Christian Nwachuku @sorano

I left my music player at a friend's house to charge. He's a friendly guy who often has lots of people over, so I was a bit worried about my belongings. But I asked him to keep an eye on it, and he said he would, so I trusted him. Then I went to work, hoping to have a good day.

Unfortunately, I had a terrible day at work. A client was very angry with my boss because he hadn't finished a project on time. The client came to our office and was very mean to me. He even threatened to call the police and have me arrested! Luckily, he didn't, but he told me to pass on a message to my boss, which made me feel really uncomfortable.

I was really upset and stressed out after that. I was looking forward to listening to some music to calm down and take my mind off the awful day I had. Music always helps me relax and improves my mood. But when I got back to my friend's apartment, I found out that my music player had been stolen! I couldn't believe it.

I was so annoyed and frustrated. I didn't know what to do. I had been counting on listening to music to lift my spirits, and now it was gone. I felt like everything was going wrong. First, the terrible day at work, and now my music player was stolen. It seemed like the universe was conspiring against me.

I decided to just go to sleep and hope that things would get better the next day. Sometimes, a good night's sleep can help put things into perspective and make you feel better.
I just had to move on and focus on the good things in my life, even if it felt like everything was going wrong at that moment.

Going back to the hands of time I will never forget the guilt I felt when I realized I had forgotten my dad's birthday. It was a chaotic day, and exams and other urgent matters had consumed me. But that was no excuse for neglecting to reach out to my dad on his special day.

As the day went on, I saw that my siblings had all called to wish him well. I felt even worse, knowing I was the only one who had forgotten. When I finally saw the missed call from my dad's number, my heart sank. I had let him down.

I took a deep breath and dialed his number again, hoping he would answer. But he didn't. So, I did the next best thing I sent him a long text message, pouring out my heart and apologizing for my forgetfulness. I explained how busy I was, but acknowledged that was no excuse for forgetting. I promised him that no matter where I was in the world, I would be there for his 60th birthday celebration.

Fast-forward to today, and I'm thrilled to be home to celebrate that very milestone with him! We've got a perfect plan in place to make sure he has the most blissful birthday ever. As I look back, I realize how much my dad means to me. He's my anchor, my rock, and I'm so grateful for his love and support over the years.

"Happy 60th birthday to my anchor!" I say, giving him a big hug. "I love you more than words can express. May this new chapter in your life bring you joy, happiness, and all your favorite things."

Chinedu woke up to the sound of heavy rain pounding on the roof of his small apartment in Yaba. As a third-year engineering student at the University of Lagos, he had a busy day ahead with an important lecture on Thermodynamics. Glancing at the clock, he realized he only had an hour before he needed to leave.

He looked at the overflowing basket of dirty clothes in the corner. His mother’s voice echoed in his head, reminding him of the importance of cleanliness. He knew he couldn’t put off the laundry any longer. Just then, his roommate, Ifeanyi, walked in.

"Nna, this rain no get joy o. You sure say you wan wash these clothes today?" Ifeanyi asked.

"I don't have much choice, Ifeanyi. I won’t have any clean clothes for the rest of the week," Chinedu replied, determined to stick to his plan.

Ifeanyi suggested, "Why not use the new laundry service? I hear they’re very reliable and can even deliver back to you on campus."

Chinedu, however, was set on doing things himself. "I can handle it," he said, grabbing the basket and heading for the washing machine.

As the machine hummed and churned, Chinedu quickly got ready for his lecture. The rain showed no signs of stopping, and he was already worried about his clothes drying in such weather. But with no time to waste, he dashed off to campus, hoping for the best.

The lecture was engaging, but Chinedu found it hard to concentrate fully. His thoughts kept drifting back to his laundry. He imagined his clothes drying perfectly despite the rain. But deep down, he had a nagging feeling that things might not go as planned.

When the lecture finally ended, Chinedu hurried back home, his heart pounding with anxiety. As he turned the corner to his apartment, he saw the aftermath of the heavy rain. His clothes were nowhere to be seen on the drying line.

Rushing to the backyard, Chinedu's heart sank. The wind had blown his clothes all over the muddy ground. Shirts, trousers, and socks lay scattered, soaked, and dirty. Some pieces were even missing without a trace.

Chinedu stood there in the rain, feeling a mix of frustration and regret. If only he had listened to Ifeanyi's advice. Slowly, he began to pick up the clothes, mud clinging to his hands and clothes. The reality of the situation hit him hard.

Just then, Ifeanyi appeared, holding an umbrella over both of them. "Nna, I warned you," he said, trying to lighten the mood with a smile. "Come, let’s gather these clothes. We can wash them again."

Chinedu couldn’t help but chuckle despite the mess. "You were right, Ifeanyi. Next time, I’ll be more flexible."

Together, they collected the scattered clothes and brought them inside. Ifeanyi helped Chinedu wash the clothes again.

As he prepared for another day at the University of Lagos, Chinedu knew he was not alone in his journey. He had friends who had his back, and sometimes, listening to their advice was the best course of action.

I had a important business deal to attend to at home, so I boarded the first bus to get there as quickly as possible. But, little did I know, the journey would be a challenging one. As soon as we hit the road, we got stuck in a traffic jam.

After several hours on the road, a heated argument broke out between two men. Their loud voices and angry words made everyone uncomfortable. I hoped it wouldn't get out of hand.

Just as the argument started to die down, the bus was pulled over by a police officer. He boarded the bus, searching all the male passengers for anything suspicious. I held my breath, wondering what was going on. The search felt like it took forever, but eventually, we were allowed to continue our journey.

The road itself was a nightmare. Potholes made the bus sway throwing us around. I held on tight, praying the bus wouldn't break down or worse.

After what felt like an eternity, we finally arrived in my hometown. It was already 9 pm, and I knew my parents would be fast asleep. I let myself in with a spare key, not wanting to disturb them. I crept into the house, exhausted but relieved to be home.

That was when I realized my ATM card was gone! I desperately searched my room, but it was nowhere to be found. I must have lost it while I was sleeping on the bus, but I had no idea if it fell out on the bus or outside. There was nothing I could do than block it to avoid story that touches the heart

I went straight to my room, collapsed onto my bed, and fell into a deep sleep. The journey had been exhausting, but I was safe and sound at last.

The next morning, I woke up refreshed and went to greet my parents. They were surprised to see me, not knowing I had arrived the night before. We hugged, and I told them about my eventful journey.

I woke up that morning with zero plans, feeling like a blank slate. But, as I reached for my phone to check the time, I noticed a WhatsApp message from my class group. My heart skipped a beat as I read the words: "Class has been fixed for today at 10 AM." Panic set in as I realized I had less than an hour to get ready.

After a quick bath and a hasty breakfast, I rushed to the lecture hall, my mind racing with thoughts of what the class might cover. But, as I arrived, I was met with a surprise: a notice on the board announcing that the class had been rescheduled for 12 PM.

With two hours to kill, I decided to wait in the library, trying to make sense of the sudden change in plans. As I sat there, I couldn't help but feel frustrated. Why had the lecturer changed the time at the last minute? And what would we be covering in class, anyway?

Finally, at 12 PM, the lecturer arrived, and we began learning about blood platelets. She spoke at a rapid pace, covering complex concepts in what felt like a blink of an eye. I struggled to keep up, my mind racing with questions. But, determined to make the most of the class, I scribbled down notes as fast as I could.

As the lecture drew to a close, the lecturer announced that she would be asking questions. My heart sank as she called on me first. I hesitated, unsure of the answer. But then, I remembered the notes I had taken earlier. Discreetly, I glanced at my notebook and found the answer. Relieved, I responded correctly.

The class ended with me feeling fulfilled, and some students even expressed surprise at how I had answered the question. As I packed up my things and left the lecture hall, I realized that the morning's events had taught me a valuable lesson: the importance of being prepared, even when things don't go as planned.

I was visiting a construction site one day when I saw a group of men standing outside, looking hopeful. They were clearly looking for work, and I could sense their desperation. One of them approached me, a tall, lanky man with a kind face. He introduced himself as Ayo and explained that they had been coming to the site for days, hoping to get hired for a day's work.

As we chatted, Ayo shared a heartbreaking truth. "Some days, we go back home hungry if there's no job," he said, his eyes cast downward. I was taken aback by his honesty and felt compassion. Without thinking, I reached into my pocket and pulled out 5,000 naira. "Here, take this," I said, handing it to Ayo.

But what happened next surprised me. Ayo took only 1,000 naira from the money and handed the rest to his friends. "We share what little we have," he explained with a smile. I was amazed by their selflessness and generosity, especially in the face of such hardship.

Despite their struggles, they had not lost their humanity or their sense of community. And in that moment, I realized that sometimes, it's the small acts of kindness that can make the biggest impact.

From that day on, I made it a point to always carry some extra cash with me, hoping to encounter more people like Ayo and his friends, who reminded me that even in the toughest times, people with a good heart exist.

Ade was a bright and curious child, always eager to explore the world around him. One day, while playing in the bustling market, he stumbled upon a mysterious old man sitting under the shade of a baobab tree.

The old man had a kind smile and twinkling eyes that seemed to hold a wealth of wisdom. Ade was drawn to him instantly, and they struck up a conversation. As they talked, Ade learned that the old man's name was Babatunde, and he was a storyteller who traveled from village to village sharing tales of Yoruba folklore.

Fascinated by Babatunde's stories, Ade begged him to share more. And so, under the golden light of the setting sun, Babatunde began to weave a magical tapestry of myths and legends, filled with gods and goddesses, spirits and monsters.

From that day on, Ade and Babatunde became fast friends. Every evening, Ade would rush to the market to listen to Babatunde's stories, enraptured by the richness of Yoruba culture and tradition. Through their friendship, Ade not only learned about his heritage but also discovered the power of storytelling to connect people across generations.

As the years passed, Ade grew into a young man, but his friendship with Babatunde remained as strong as ever. Together, they continued to share stories, laughter, and wisdom, creating memories that would last a lifetime.