Christian Nwachuku @sorano

This morning was church cleanup day, so I arrived early to join in. After the opening prayers, we had a short meeting where everyone was given refreshments. The atmosphere was lively, with people chatting and preparing for the cleanup. It felt good to be part of the team, knowing we were working together to keep the church clean and organized.

Once the cleaning started, I suddenly remembered something we used to do as kids. Back then, we would stack up plastic chairs and climb to the top just for fun. Feeling a bit nostalgic, I decided to try it again. I carefully arranged several chairs, making sure they were stable, then climbed up and sat at the highest point. The feeling was incredible, like I was on a throne, watching everything from above.

As I sat there, completely relaxed, I almost forgot about the cleanup going on around me. The cool breeze, the height, and the slight swaying of the chairs made it an oddly satisfying experience. I was enjoying my moment when, suddenly, I heard my leader’s voice calling my name. He was urging me to come down and lead the closing prayer. At that moment, I realized I had been sitting up there for quite some time, just enjoying the view.

With a smile, I climbed down from my "throne" and joined the group. Everyone was already gathered, waiting for the prayer to wrap up the day's work. I took a deep breath, cleared my mind, and led the closing prayer, thanking God for strength and unity.

As I watched students rushing around, I felt a wave of memories wash over me. Just two years ago, I was one of those nervous second-year students, studying hard for a tough exam. Many students had failed that course, and I remembered how stressful it was.

I saw my classmates flipping through textbooks and writing notes. They looked stressed, and I felt some sympathy for them. I remembered all the late nights and cups of coffee I had gone through to prepare.

Let's go back to the main business of the day as I wouldn't want to waste my entire morning on things that wouldn't benefit me. Just then the memories of a senior colleague who happened to be of a great help and assistance during those hard times and how we had grown close while studying together.

Feeling inspired, I decided to talk to some students nearby. I walked over to a group at a table covered with books. “How’s the studying going?” I asked with a smile.

They looked surprised. One student admitted, “It’s overwhelming. This course feels impossible.”

I remembered those feelings from two years ago. “I know how you feel,” I said. “But it’s manageable. I got through it.” I shared some powerful mnemonics that will help them remember some important points, and I left them with some tips on staying organized and taking breaks. Their faces brightened, and soon they were laughing.

After a good chat, I wished them luck and went to my usual study spot. I didn’t get my favorite table, but I felt good for helping others who were facing the same challenges I once had.

As I opened my textbooks, I felt a boost of energy. I thought about how important it is to encourage each other. Today was about more than just my studying; it was about building a supportive community. With that in mind, I dove into my work, grateful for how far I had come.

This morning’s exam was nothing short of chaos. The lecturer in charge wasn’t from our department, and we’d already heard he had a tough character. Before he arrived, our department’s staff had done a good job arranging the seats and briefing us. Everyone was ready to begin when he finally walked in, and that’s when the drama started.

He got into a heated argument with the other lecturers, claiming we weren’t supposed to take the exam. For several minutes, we just sat there, watching them exchange words. Finally, he handed over the envelope with the question papers, but not without a condition, he announced that we must sit one person per seat. His instruction immediately messed up the seating arrangement, and students were moving around trying to figure out where to sit.

Frustrated with the confusion, the man completely lost his cool. He grabbed the question papers, stormed out of the hall, and left us all in shock. Some of us laughed while others were just confused.

After what felt like forever, he returned. He looked calmer and began distributing the question papers without saying much. We finally got to write the exam.

When my lecturer yelled, "If you bring that hair back to my office, I won't attend to you," I knew she meant business. She was one of the strictest in my department, and while most of the other lecturers never minded my hair since I always kept it combed and neat, this particular woman seemed to have a serious problem with it. Her irritation was clear, and I didn’t want to risk any issues with her course.

Stepping outside, I thought long and hard about my options. Keeping my hair meant appearing stubborn, and that could backfire during the semester. Reluctantly, I decided it was best to trim it down. I walked to the nearest barbershop, sat in the chair, and told the barber to make it low. It felt like a small price to pay for peace with my lecturer, but little did I know it would open a whole new set of problems.

The reactions were immediate and brutal. My friends and classmates couldn’t stop teasing me. They said I looked like a monkey, a new primary school student, and even a newly admitted boarding school kid. The taunts came from everywhere. People weren’t used to seeing me with a low cut, and honestly, I wasn’t used to it either. It was embarrassing, but I had to endure their jokes and awkward stares for the next two months until exams were over.

From that experience, I made a decision: never again. No matter who complains or what the stakes are, I’ve sworn to keep my hair. That semester taught me more than just academics, it taught me the cost of trying to please everyone.

I’ve never really been a fan of alcohol; it always irritates me. But my good friend Prosper loves his drinks. When his birthday came around, I thought long and hard about what to get him. In the end, I decided on a nice bottle of wine, knowing it would make him happy.

On his birthday, I dropped off the wine and headed home. I figured he would have a busy day celebrating, so I thought he’d enjoy it. A few days later, I decided to visit him, thinking he might have finished the wine by now.

When I arrived, we exchanged pleasantries, and then he surprised me by pulling out that same bottle of wine I had given him. part of me wanted to say no, but I also didn’t want to hurt his feelings. After all, I was the one who bought it.

So, I sat down with him, and we shared the wine together. It was tempting, and we ended up having a good time, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being unhappy. I had gone against my own preferences just to please a friend.

Today, I attended a wedding for the first time in two years. It felt refreshing and different because everything about the process seemed new to me. From the exchange of vows to the prayers, the entire ceremony was a learning experience. We danced with the couple, gave offerings, and celebrated their union in the church.

After the church service, we moved to the reception, which was in a building just next to the church. The hall was well-decorated, and everyone seemed excited to continue the celebration. Drinks were soon distributed, and that’s when things took an unexpected turn. To my surprise, the main drink being served was beer. I couldn’t believe it. Just a few moments ago, we were praying and celebrating in a sacred space, and now beer was the drink of the occasion.

What shocked me the most was the way the drinks were being shared. A man sitting beside me was almost forced to take a bottle of beer even after politely refusing. The person sharing the drinks told him, “This is not the church,” as if that justified the behavior. The man boldly declined again, clearly uncomfortable with the pressure. It seemed like there was no regard for God and the occasion we had just witnessed in the church.

It was heartbreaking to see how quickly people could switch from a place of worship to such casual disregard for the values we were celebrating. I left the event disappointed.

Today started like any other day. I left my house, excited about a business deal I had been preparing for. My shop was waiting for me, and I was eager to get to work.

On my way, my client called. “I’m on my way,” I told him. I was looking forward to meeting him because this deal could really help my business. We met at the site and we talked about our ideas. The conversation went well, and by the end, I felt good about what we had planned. My client seemed happy too.

But as I got ready to leave, I suddenly realized I couldn’t find my shop key. I checked my pockets and my bag, but it was nowhere to be found. I had always been careful with that key, so I was really surprised and worried.

For about half an hour, I searched everywhere. I retraced my steps, looking on the floor and around the site. I felt frustrated and a bit defeated. What was I going to do if I couldn’t get into my shop?

Finally, I decided to head to my shop, feeling down. When I got there, I noticed something strange. The padlock was locked, but the key was still in it! I had locked the padlock without taking the key out. It was such a simple mistake, but it had caused me so much stress.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, and I couldn’t help but laugh at how silly I had been. What I thought was a disaster turned out to be a small mistake. I unlocked the door, stepped inside my shop, and felt grateful for the day. Sometimes, unexpected things happen, and they can teach us valuable lessons.

Early this morning, one of my good friends who lives overseas called to let me know he was back in Nigeria and needed someone to fix his satellite. After hearing the details of the job, I assured him I knew someone who could handle it perfectly. Once we hung up, I quickly called another friend who’s an expert installer and told him someone would be contacting him soon for a job. He agreed, and I ended the call.

I then called my overseas friend back and gave him the installer’s contact details. He thanked me and said he would reach out right away. But not long after, he called me again to say the installer’s line wasn’t going through. Curious, I decided to try the number myself. To my surprise, it wasn’t connecting. I even borrowed other people’s phones to try, but the line still refused to go through. We kept trying from morning until evening, but nothing worked.

Unfortunately, my overseas friend couldn’t wait any longer, and the job had to be given to someone else. I was frustrated because everything had been planned out so smoothly, yet something beyond our control ruined it. I kept wondering what could have happened to the installer’s phone.

Finally, close to midnight, the installer called me back. He told me he had lost his phone in the morning. I felt so bad for him. I knew he was skilled and really needed the job, and I had done everything possible to help. But it seemed like bad luck had its own plans that day.

My day started well, and I was determined to make the most of it despite having limited funds. Shortly after waking up, my phone rang. It was my sister calling, urgently needing money. I knew I didn't have much, but I sent her the money via my Opay account.

However, two hours later, she called back, saying she hadn't received the money. For one seconds I was like after two hours, thinking she was ungrateful for not confirming receipt earlier. Upon investigating, I realized I had sent the money to the wrong person, Blessing Nwangwia instead of Blessing Nwachuku.

Thankfully, it was an Opay account, so I copied the account number and contacted the recipient. Unfortunately, he denied seeing any unusual transactions on his account. I decided not to pressure him, hoping the money would eventually reflect, but I'm skeptical due to the country's high level of corruption.

While I wait for a refund, I quickly sent my sister another money, so shome could be happy, and at least give me a breathing space to concentrate on the current situation at hand.

Do you think he'll return the money or should I involve VDM?