Mindviewers Stories

I met one of my friends today, I haven't seen her for over a year now, we only chat online and place calls once in a while. I'm on holiday, so I decided to go and visit her, just like old times; gist, laugh, play, talk about the future and many others. We sat at the front of the compound, under a shade, and it didn't take me long to notice the strange way her eyes was.

A drop of tears rolled out from her eyes, she managed to keep her eyes half closed, and at the same time trying to cover it with her hands. I asked her what was going on with her, she told me she has an eye problem, and it gets worse under bright lights like sunlight and florescent bulbs. I began to wonder how the eye problem came about, because I've known her for a long time, there was never a case like this before.

She began to narrate the story of when she was living at Niger State, and was working at a restaurant back then. They used to cook in the restaurant with a kerosene stove. Everyone knows that blowing off a kerosene stove with your mouth will bring up toxic gas that will inflict some pains to your eyes for a moment. This was what she did everyday, blowing off the stove like up to 15 times in a day.

The toxic gas will inflicted pains in her eyes on daily basis, I asked why she had to blow off the stove, and she said the stove wasn't good, and so it won't go off without having to blow it. Her boss didn't care to repair the stove since she didn't complain about it. And overtime she began to have this permanent eye problem, so sad. I felt very sad and angry at the same time.

Sad because she's my friend, angry because it is somehow her fault. The money she was working for had finished long ago, but the eye problem still remains. Doing a job that brings health complications is very dangerous, the pathetic thing is that the money paid to you all together might not be enough to cure you. Some of the problems might be with you forever, for how much?It's not worth it. Carefully avoid jobs that inflicts damages to your body, or you spend your entire life battling with the consequence.

I remember something that happened when I was still a teenager, it stays with me till today. That time, if a teenager is reported to our church to have insulted an adult, stolen, or carried out other similar acts, the teenager will be laid down in front of the church on a Sunday and flogged. I remember watching others get flogged, I prayed it didn't get to me.

Like it or not, it was discipline, and we behaved well. One day I washed my elder brother's trousers and found a 500 naira note, I took the money happily and started budgeting what to buy with it. Before I finished washing, my brother walked up to me and asked if I had seen some money in his clothes while washing them. I wanted to lie, but couldn't, I told him "yes".

He told me that he saw when I found the money in his pocket and wanted to know if I will say the truth. So this is how I would have been flogged in church. As at then, I did everything respectfully and honestly, I can't remember insulting my parents even for once, because of the fear of being disciplined in front of many people, could be humiliating, so I avoided at all cost.

But just this evening, I saw a teenager beating up the mother and insulting the handicapped father, and saying that nothing will happen. The teenagers that were disciplined back then didn't commit offense of this nature, because there was high level of discipline. But now, kids will be comfortably disrespecting elders, and there will be nobody to discipline them, not even the parents.

The church used to be concerned in the way the kids were being brought up, in my opinion I will say I like those days where you will be called out in church and disciplined if you misbehaved. But now even the adults are also misbehaving. The Bible made it clear; "spare the rod and spoil the child". Now that the rod is being spared, kids have spoilt beyond repair in this age.

I went to a site today with my friend, who the father sent to supervise the block moulding for their new house. My friend is familiar with the people living around that axis, so he gave one of them some amount of money to transport cements from a house it was stored, to where it will be moulded. The person left and said he was going to get a wheelbarrow to carry out the task.

That was 7:00am in the morning, we waited at the site, alongside the people who are to mould the block till 8:30am, the guy did not transport the cements to the site. After much investigation, we found out that the guy has ran away with the money. I was very surprised, he lives in that area, and surely he will meet my friend again, how will his face be like after what he did.

That place is a village, yet to be fully developed, nobody there looked rich, which I later concluded why. After looking for someone else to transport the cement, and then the work was done, it was time to head home. While my friend, some of the block moulder and I was trekking out to where we will find a vehicle to board home, we came across a tattered house where the guy that ran away after collecting payment, lives.

In this modern era, the house was made of mud and the roof was dried leaves. The guy is married and we saw his kids playing outside, with torn clothes, everywhere looked so unkept, even the kids. I pitied the kids but blamed the guy, he is not trustworthy, scams people with every little chance he gets, till people have distanced their selves from him, and won't even recommended him for jobs anymore.

His deceitful life has made people exclude him from everything, yet he won't learn. My friend will never want anything to do with him again, how does he expect to survive in a world where he deceives everybody and is avoided? His life is very stagnated, yet he won't change his ways. In the village, most of them don't care about trust and honesty, they are after what they can embezzle away right away and finish it in one square meal, forgetting that they will be hungry again, and will still need people to work with. Just so sad.

As I was sitting today in my seat and reading a novel, a romance novel to be specific, I spotted a large mosquito fly in through my doors. I had opened the doors and left my curtains down, you know, and suddenly this mosquito, which was extremely larger than the normal species, made its entry.

I immediately glanced around for my broom, but I couldn’t find it at first where I had dropped it, it might had slid away.
After a quick search, I finally picked up the broom and made my way back to confront the mosquito. It flew around loudly and sharply, with that irritating sounds that all mosquitoes made, except that for its size, the loudness was more loud.

I fought this mosquito for several minutes, waving the broom in all directions, until I finally managed to hit it. It fell down, and I couldn’t help but study it like a scientist examining a specimen. It was such a funny experience though, I couldn’t help but wonder, is that kind of mosquito categorized in our biology, I doubt if a mosquito that large was categorised in those textbooks.

I knew returning home from school for a short holiday or a short break wasn't such a great idea. But my home is my home, as they always say.

I returned home about a week ago, and I must say that I'm already tired of everything.
It no longer feels like a home for resting. It's been from one work to another, from one chore to another, from one errand to another. I do not blame the family or my mom or dad. I actually just blame it on time and development, and I'm partly happy about this. Except that everything domestic work now rests on me.

My elder sister has gotten married. My brothers are all in school far away. So I, as the last born, I think it's just my duty naturally. But sometimes I just feel like things could go back to normal like the way things had been- when chores were shared between other elder siblings and then I get the easiest task.

Looking back, all I can say is thank you God, for the progress thus far.

decided to get a mackintosh for my bed. I didn't have any particular problem, but sometimes when I removed my bed sheet to wash it, I would accidentally stain the bed itself. This really irritated me because I didn’t know how to wash the original fabric used to make the bed.

So, I thought that making a mackintosh would be a good solution. I measured the sizes I needed and took it to a tailor last week to start the work.

After I retrieved the finished work yestraday, I tried to insert my bed into the mackintosh, but it wouldn’t fit. I had took the proper measurements, but clearly, I must have made a mistake somewhere or the tailor was trying to conserve the material.
On top of that, I was frustrated about the price I had to pay for this. The tailor had raised the prices of everything, blaming it on the economy. I ended up paying about 12,000 Naira for the material, while usually, it wouldn’t cost more than 8,000 Naira no matter how big the bed is. And my bed wasn’t even that big, just a standard 6 x 5 size.

But it's okay. I’ve already contacted the tailor, and I’ll be taking it back tomorrow to get it fixed. Hopefully, it will work out as I planned.

A few years ago, there was a man in my neighborhood who kept pigeons. These birds often flew around, and some of them would come into my compound before heading back. But there was this one particular pigeon that started showing up at my window more often than the rest. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but when I noticed its consistency, I began leaving little things for it like garri, bread crumbs, or sometimes chin chin.

At first, the pigeon was afraid. The moment I came near, it would fly away without a second thought. It clearly wasn’t interested in being touched or making friends. I decided to just let it be and left food for it to enjoy without disturbing it. Over time, though, it became less scared. It started hanging around my window longer, even after eating the food. I knew we were slowly building some sort of trust.

One day, something surprising happened. The pigeon flew into my house. At first, I thought it might have been an accident, but it didn’t seem panicked or rushed. It stayed calm and even let me touch it briefly before flying off again. That moment was special, as if the bird had finally accepted me as a friend.

From then on, it became a routine. The pigeon would come by almost every evening, and it wasn’t just about the food anymore. It seemed to enjoy being around, and I found myself looking forward to its visits.
Unfortunately, the man who owned the pigeons eventually moved out, and my little feathered friend went with him.

Saturday hit me hard in a way I didn’t expect. The day started fine; I went jogging early in the morning, feeling good about staying active. I didn’t leave the house after that, just spent time reading my Bible and taking short naps. Everything seemed okay, and I even felt relaxed.

Later in the evening, I went jogging again, thinking it was a good way to end the day. After that, I called it a night and went home feeling tired but satisfied. I stayed up late, though, which I now think was a bad idea. I didn’t realize my body wasn’t happy with all the stress.

In the middle of the night, I woke up to the most painful muscle pull I’ve ever had. My calf felt like it was tearing apart, and I couldn’t help but scream. The pain was so sharp it scared me. Luckily, after a few minutes, it went away, but it left me afraid. I was just grateful it didn’t last longer, but it was still a terrible experience.

Even after the pain stopped, I couldn’t sleep again. I kept rolling around in bed, worried it might come back. That night taught me a big lesson about overdoing things and not letting my body rest properly. It’s something I’ll be more careful about from now on.

At 6 a.m., my alarm started ringing loudly. I had set up five different alarms, just in case. As the first one went off, I lazily turned it off, unwilling to leave my warm bed. After the second and third alarms forced me out of my daze, I finally dragged myself up, still wrapped in my blanket to fight the cold a little longer.

I knew my schedule wouldn't allow this laziness, though. The cold was biting, and I couldn’t even bring myself to take a bath. Instead, I put on my clothes, grabbed my bag, and got ready for my trip to the neighboring village. It wasn’t ideal, but I’d make up for it once the day got warmer.

Outside, the chill hit me hard, but I hurried to board a tricycle to get to the bus park. The ride was quick, and once at the park, I wasted no time paying for my trip since I already had cash with me. It seemed like the day was off to a decent start despite the cold.

As I sat in the bus, waiting for it to fill up, I noticed the tricycle driver approaching. He was holding something in his hand; my ATM card. My heart skipped for a moment as I realized I must have dropped it in his vehicle. Grateful for his honesty, I rushed out to retrieve it. Losing that card would have been disastrous, especially with my phone battery low and my plan to use the card for payments.

After thanking the driver profusely, he went on his way, and I returned to my seat in the bus. Relieved, I settled back in, feeling lucky that he found me. The events of the morning were starting to catch up with me, and before long, I found myself dozing off in the warmth of the bus, grateful that the day hadn’t turned into a disaster.

was all set to make my special Sunday rice. After rinsing my pot and was about to get started started, I opened the lid of the pot ready to pour in the rice in it when i saw a shocking thing in the pot. A wall gecko was sitting inside my pot.

I couldn't believe my eyes as I stood frozen in place for what felt like five whole minutes, just staring at the creature. My mind was swimming with several questions. How did this gecko get into my pot? Did it sneak in while the lid was kept aside while I was rinsing the pot?

I have heard stories about war geckos before. Some said they were poisonous, and I wondered if this could mean something spiritual. Was there a reason it chose to land in my pot?

On a second thought, it was Sunday and I couldn't let it ruin my Sunday. So, after a quick prayer to keep the bad vibes away, I carefully removed the gecko from the pot. With determination, I rinsed the pot again and again. I didn’t just rinse it, I scrubbed it hard with my iron sponge, making sure it was as clean and shiny as possible.

The pot was back on the stove in no time.
A promise of a good meal was made again as my pot heated. Didn't let just a little lizard interfere with my Sunday plans.

After I read Betty's story yesterday, it made me want to read too. I thought about reading for a long time, maybe even for straught 4 hours as 7 hours felt really tiring. So, I decided to read for just a little while instead.

This morning after church service, I went to school buying some snacks to eat while I read. I also took my special water bottle because it helps me feel fancy and solves my thirst problems.

I picked a classroom that I thought would help me read better. At first, I was confident and thought I could concentrate really well because the classroom was empty and peaceful. But then, three boys walked into the room, and I got scared. They sat just behind my desk making me feel nervous and not able focus on my book at all.

I tried really hard to read, but I just couldn't. I kept thinking about the boys and what they were doing. It was hard to forget about them. I wanted to read and enjoy my book, but my worries kept getting in the way.

When I knew that it would be a further waste of time trying.
I gathered my books and other belongings and went to another class which had a mix of students also studying there.

Today was the ever expected day of the catholic choir exhibition in our Campus. It took place at the Catholic Church inside our school.
We had received invitations for a long time, starting from last two months, they already had their fliers on air. They advertised it early, and many people came to enjoy the event.

I was specially invited by a dear friend who was going to showcase her amazing voice. It was such a fantastic event, no cap. We sat down in the comfortable seats provided by the sponsors. These seats were fancy and soft, much better than the usual plastic ones which fought with anything bum.

I loved everything about the exhibition, starting with the beautiful music, the joyous atmosphere that cheered happily to any melodioustwist, and even the delicious snacks that were shared. Every moment was wonderful.

Omo, this week church service was amazing because the priest stopped all of a sudden to tell a story which livened the church.

He said that, when he was in his former parish, that after offering he heard a woman slap her son and people was shocked 😲😲, Omo him say d slap no b here, because the slap was out of anger.

He purposely ignored her and later on continued the service, then the same woman still tear the pikin another slap, Omo everybody look the woman and he continued his service without stopping.

Then when the service ended, he approached the woman later on to ask what was the reason for the commossion inside the service and the woman said "Father, this my son has the mind to put my money for stew inside the offering box and when he told me, I was shocked.

Then, the Father said how come naa, then the woman replied that when the Father was preaching the gospel before offering time she gave the son 5k and 2h to put 2h in the offering box and 5k inside her purse which was for their Stew ingredients, when he came bck frm offering, i asked him, if he kept the money inside the purse and he said he made a mistake and kept the 2h inside the purse instead of the 5k.

Immediately, she tried to rush to the alter to take back the money but the orchers have carry the money to count☠️

Omo as him tell us this story ehhhhhnn........., come see crowd wey dey sleep don open eye dey laff 😂😂😂.
Omo last week church service was amazing because the priest stopped all of a sudden to tell a story which livened the church.

He said that, when he was in his former parish, that after offering he heard a woman slap her son and people was shocked 😲😲, Omo him say d slap no b here, because the slap was out of anger.

He purposely ignored her and later on continued the service, then the same woman still tear the pikin another slap, Omo everybody look the woman and he continued his service without stopping.

Then when the service ended, he approached the woman later on to ask what was the reason for the commossion inside the service and the woman said "Father, this my son has the mind to put my money for stew inside the offering box and when he told me, I was shocked.

Then, the Father said how come naa, then the woman replied that when the Father was preaching the gospel before offering time she gave the son 5k and 2h to put 2h in the offering box and 5k inside her purse which was for their Stew ingredients, when he came bck frm offering, i asked him, if he kept the money inside the purse and he said he made a mistake and kept the 2h inside the purse instead of the 5k.

Immediately, she tried to rush to the alter to take back the money but the orchers have carry the money to count☠️

Omo as him tell us this story ehhhhhnn........., come see crowd wey dey sleep don open eye dey laff 😂😂😂.

After reading, pls like the post to appreciate our effort🤲🤲🤲.

It all began two years ago when I met her. There was an instant spark, a connection that felt undeniable. We laughed, shared secrets, and quickly began to spend more time together, getting to know each other's thought on destiny and purpose. It was a blissful time filled with youthful excitement and hope.

I've known mercy for quite some time now and there is know need snicking around, we both decide to be more official and by implications we started visiting each other's homes, not longer the formal way of waiting behind after lectures but this time around she can come to my house and me to her place as well.

My first visit to her place wasn't a bad one, as her parents thought I was just a school friend and probably came to have some home lectures with her. Little did they know that something fishing is going down 🤣 trust me I was looking cool and gentle all true my stay.

Things has been going so well but not this time around, I visited and she went to the market, it was just her dad at home. Cheerfully the old man offered I stay with him while I wait for my friend. Hmm 🤔 I was left with know choice but to sit, the man was not just interesting to be with but also very funny. I could not help but become very free with him.

I know you love my daughter he questioned? at this point I knew the man it's becoming very interested in our relationship, on a first thought I wanted to lie but on the other hand I knew he had seen us more offen than expected if i claim of just being a friend. I only said nothing but the truth.

Just like every other Nigerian man his next question was who are your parents and what is your family name. The atmosphere changed immediately I answered him. I suspected something was wrong, but just couldn't pick point what the problem was. Unfortunately my friend is home and our conversation was interrupted.

I wasn't surprised to see mercy with her dad in my place the next morning. I could sense the gravity of what was coming. Somewhere wetin my spirit I knew I had not done anything wrong and besides I and mercy hasn't bounded so there is no way she could be pregnant.

My dad was already in the sitting room when they entered, I was suprise to see both parents exchange pleasantries as though they've known from somewhere. With heavy hearts, they revealed the truth we were distantly related. Not close enough to be considered immediate family, but the connection was there a thread that tied our families together in a way that made our relationship complicated and, ultimately, unacceptable.

The news wasn't a good one. All at once, the joy we had shared turned into heartache. We were faced with an impossible decision to end what had blossomed between us. It was as if the universe had conspired to tear us apart just as we were discovering the depths of our feelings. In that moment, we both understood that love sometimes comes with boundaries we cannot cross.

Cooking that stew was like a win, and stepping out to buy bread was the finishing thing. My friend and I had eaten noodles earlier, and while I tried to convince him to stay and eat the stew, he refused. He said it was already late and with Sunday coming, he couldn’t hang around. I didn’t push too much. At least he wasn’t leaving on an empty stomach.

On the way to get the bread, we saw a rat struggling for its life in some really dirty water. It was swimming like crazy, but it was clear the poor thing wasn’t going to make it. We stopped for a bit to watch, and I told my friend, “This rat is done for, no hope at all.” He nodded and then said something that got me thinking.

He said, “That rat is just like all of us in Nigeria right now, struggling to survive in a mess we didn’t even create.” We both laughed, but his words hit deep. It’s true that life here feels like a never-ending hustle with no guarantees. Even when we laugh, it’s like we’re just hiding the weight of everything we deal with daily.

By the time we got the bread, his words still stayed with me. Nigeria is in a tough spot right now, and it’s not just about politics or money, it’s about everyday survival. Some days, we’re just like that rat, trying to stay afloat, hoping we don’t sink further into the mess. It’s a lot to process when you think about it.

After I escorted my friend home, I headed back to enjoy my stew with the bread. But deep down, I couldn’t stop thinking about his words. Just like the rat might find a way out somehow, I hope we all do too. Survival might be hard, but as Nigerians, we’ve learned to keep pushing no matter what.

I still remember the day I stepped onto the scale before starting my 300L first semester. I was suprise to see 50kg. I felt a sense of accomplishment, knowing I'd maintained that weight since 2016.

As the semester progressed, I kept a close eye on my weight. By exam time, I had dropped to 46kg. I wasn't worried; I knew it was just a temporary fluctuation, probably because of the exam stress and other factors that might be personal. As at the time the semester was coming to an end I was back up to 48kg.

Life got busy, and I didn't get a chance to check my weight during those times. But recently, I decided to step onto the scale again. I wasn't too sure what it would be this time but to my greatest surprise I weighed 54kg! Wow I had finally broken through the 50kg barrier.

I couldn't wait to share the news with my friends Fatima and Ogechi. Those girls has always talked down on me each time we discussed about our fitness journeys, and now I felt like I had something to brag about. Fear my return.

Today, I was really tired after school. I had read a lot with this particular female friend.
She (friend)- use to own a little bakery store that she's still trying to get out in the light but we had never gotten to have a one and one conversation concerning that.

Reading was over for the day and it was eventually time to retire and head home, staring at the time, I felt accomplished: reading for straight 7hrs without any distractions. But one thing was amiss - I was hungry and had avoided clogging up my system with junks all through the reading hours.
She wanted to be nice to me, so she requested that I gave her a few minutes while she launched out to her hostel.

She returned with a nylon that was bulging with an unknown delicious aroma emanating from whatever that was.
She made me a buttered bread!
As she handed it to me, she also apologised for not making either a minced meat bread or other more nutritional combo's. We both blamed it on time afterwards.

When I took a bite of the buttered bread, it tasted different from what I usually have. Normally, I put a lot of butter on my bread. But this time, my friend had sprinkled some sugar on the butter. It tasted really, really good. The butter wasn't too much. I kept moving around my tongue on what was supposed to be just an ordinary, there was something special and different about this one, I thought.
Out of impatience, I asked if she used something special to make it, but she said no. It was just a little sprinkle of sugar on it and nothing more.

Throughout the day my system was unapologetically filled up with more of buttered bread. I had gotten an extra loaf myself on the way and a box of medium sized butter, I has sugar at home.
This was new discovery that would linger for some time until my taste buds grows weary of it's taste.

We have been getting ready for a special sports week at school. Every department was going to play matches against each other and I’ve been training very hard and haven't missed a single practice. I was excited for our first match up with other departments.

When the match started, I was sitting on the bench. I thought I would get to play, but they didn’t let me. Even though I know I’m a good player and can play better than some of the guys on the field, they kept me waiting on the bench.

The game ended with both teams scoring 1 goal each, so we decided to pause the match for the day and fix another daye for a rematch.
The next day, we were told to come for practice again. I was called to the football field with the ball, but then I felt like I disappeared. It was like I was a ghost for the whole day. They all called and called but iyaaa, if I no frustrate them no be me.

kachi kapor popularly know as (ole jeans 👖👖) was a young man in his mid 30s

How he got the nickname ole jeans was a mystery to me. He is a very temperamental person once u called him is nick name he will look for stone and throw at u.
(nobody send you if it hit your head OYO on your own 😁😁😁)

One day something really funny happened, there is this Muslim family that stays in the next compound opposite to ours,the last born of that family about 4 or 5 years saw the mad man and called him ole jeans 👖 👖.

The mad picked a stick and flogged this girl, the girl started shouting and crying😭😭😭

The father of the child that's was a retired soldier came out and saw his child crying; "see madman see my pikin mad man pikin that's was what was going on in the father's head😁😁😁".

That's how the man out of anger dashed into his room and brought out koboko😂😂😂😂
once the mad man saw the whip he started running for his dear life 😂😂😂😂
Omo the army man no gree he gave him a very hot Chase and caught up to him and started whipping the hell out of the mad man 😂😂😂

Na that day I Know say mad people sabi speak in tongues and in different languages 😂😂😂😂

Biko Biko Biko ooooo😁😁😁he said in Igbo dialect while running for his life he was running and using is Ghana most go bag to block most of the Koboko😂😂😂 it was really funny indeed

Last week, I went to a small village to cover an event. I had learned about videography, which is how to use a camera to make videos. I knew how to get good shots to make a nice video, and this was my chance to practice.

A friend of my aunty asked me to help cover her event. She had promised to pay me some money before the event, but I decided to go without asking for the money first. I wanted to focus on the experience and have fun.
When I reached the village, everything was full of life. There were children playing, adults chatting, and the smell of tasty food in the air, the canopies were set and chairs being put in place. I felt ready to capture everything as I set my camera up.

As the event began, I moved around the crowd, capturing smiles, dancing, and the joyful moments happening all around but not shifting too much from the major scene and purpose of the gathering.It was like watching a movie behind my camera and asides filming the event, I felt happy to be part of it all.

At the end of the day, just when I finished filming, I checked my phone. I saw that my Aunty's friend had sent the money she promised. Everything was perfect beyond my plans.

Later, as I looked at the video clips I had taken and was cropping the clips together, I felt proud. Each shot reminded me of the fun and happiness that day brought. I realized that by taking just an opportunity whether prepared or not could be the best option one could take.