Mindviewers Stories

Woke up too early for a Monday adventure, it wasn't even 7am yet, the previous night was brain wracking. A couple of hours were invested into battling with the anatomy of nerves. Midnight struck right when I couldn't bear the weight on my head anymore, a reminder that the weekend is over? Or a wake-up call to the tasks that have laid siege throughout the week.

At 8am, I sprung to my feet, whispered words of prayers and left bed to avoid dozing off again. Grabbed my toothbrush, "Another day, same old routine." It was amazing to reflect on my productivity in recent weeks, staying committed to improving everyday academically was challenging but my perseverance won't let it flop.

An impromptu information arrived, a class scheduled for midday had been revised for an earlier time; about three hours back, I wasn't well disposed for this. I weighed my priorities, investing that time to push forward with a topic I've been trying to understand will prove advantageous.
With the resolution, I proceeded to prepare breakfast and set up the day before time closes down on me. A while later, we completed yet another cooking conquest, a win for the tummy and an headstart for the day.

Alas! Everything was set, I smelt the fresh air and affirmed, "Today is a delightful day!" I don't know how far I can go today, but I'm determined to pull out all the stops to have a productive day. What's left will be tackled another day, let's seize the present while it lingers.

Last week, I bought a fresh pair of shoes for school. They were pristine and white, and I was proud to wear them. But then, two days ago, I made a mistake that I'm still kicking myself for.

I had worn my new shoes in the rain and they ended up getting soaked through. After I got home, I decided to put them outside in the sun to dry. It was such a clear, sunny day, and I thought it would be the perfect way to dry them off. I left them out there for the whole day, confident they would be ready by the evening.

But as the day wore on, clouds rolled in, and the sun was chased away by thick gray blankets. I didn't even notice it was happening until it was too late. A sudden and unexpected rainstorm began to pour down, drenching everything in sight. I wasn't even thinking about my poor shoes— I was so used to the dry season that the idea of rain had completely slipped my mind.

By the time I remembered my shoes, it was already too late. They had been left outside in the downpour, completely at the mercy of the unrelenting rain. I had let them down, all because I wasn't thinking straight due to the unusual weather. When I went out to retrieve them, they were soaked through, no longer the sparkling shoes I had purchased just a week prior.

I brought them inside, trying to undo the damage, but it was clear that the rain had taken its toll. My once pristine shoes were now waterlogged and stained. I should have been more vigilant, should have heeded the change in the weather, but I had let my guard down, only to be caught off guard.

Now, I'm left with a pair of soggy, sorry shoes, and I can't help but wish I had been more attentive. It's a lesson I won't soon forget: in the ever-unpredictable weather of life, it's important to always think ahead and not take anything for granted.

Beyond Borders.
Once upon a time, in the heart of Nigeria, there was a vibrant youth corps member named Itoro, Itoro was a young Akwa Ibomite that was born and grew up in Port Harcourt where his parent resided, he was into sports back in the university of Port Harcourt and had an athletic body build, needless to say he was handsome, eager to make a difference during his National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) year. Assigned to a rural community in the eastern part of the country, Itoro found himself immersed in a world of new experiences and challenges.

It was during one of his community development projects that Itoro first laid eyes on Chiamaka, a local schoolteacher with a smile that could light up the entire village. She was black, tall, elegant and passionate about education, dedicated to improving the lives of her students.

As Itoro and Chiamaka crossed paths while working on various projects together, they discovered a shared love for community service and a desire to make a lasting impact. They spent countless hours brainstorming ideas, organizing events, and collaborating on initiatives to uplift their community.

Despite their cultural differences and the challenges they faced, Itoro and Chiamaka's friendship blossomed into something deeper. They found solace in each other's company, sharing dreams, aspirations, and the occasional laughter amidst their busy schedules.

As the months passed by, Itoro realized that Chiamaka was not just a friend but someone he couldn't imagine his life without. With the support of their friends and the community, Itoro mustered the courage to express his feelings to Chiamaka.

To his delight, Chiamaka felt the same way, and their bond grew stronger than ever. Together, they continued to serve their community with passion and dedication, inspiring others with their love story and commitment to making a difference.

When Itoro's service year came to an end, he made a promise to Chiamaka to return and build a future together in the village they had grown to love. With hearts full of hope and determination, they bid farewell to their fellow corps members, knowing that their love story was just beginning.... To be continued...
https://www.miva.university/?ref=mivarichard847

It was getting dark with the sunset, and I found myself lost in thought. Leaning against the balcony, I watched the world below, contemplating the affairs of life. Thoughts went through my mind like leaves caught in a gentle breeze, each one carrying with it a different emotion, a different perspective.

I couldn't help but wonder about the purpose of it all. What was the meaning behind the everyday routines, the struggles, the moments of joy and sorrow? Was there some design guiding the course of my life, or was it all just a series of random events?

As I pondered these questions, my thoughts turned to the people who had shaped my journey. Memories of laughter shared with friends, moments of heartache and many other thoughts occupied my mind. Each interaction, each relationship, had left a mark on my soul, shaping me into the person I am today.

But amidst the chaos of life, I also found moments of clarity. Moments when the noise of the world faded away, and I could hear the whisper of my own heart. In those moments, I realized that life wasn't about finding all the answers, but rather about embracing the journey, with all its twists and turns.

I may not have all the answers, but as long as I stay true to myself and follow my heart, I will find my way. And with that thought, I turned away from the balcony, closed my books and went home to face whatever tomorrow may bring.

I've always been fascinated by the idea of baking. So, when I stumbled upon the recipe for chin chin, a popular West African snack, I knew I had to give it a try. The thought of creating those crispy, bite-sized delights filled me with a sense of excitement and determination.

Admittedly, it was quite a tussle getting the dough just right. I found myself vigorously beating the flour, working to mold it into the perfect texture. I added the other ingredients - a dash of nutmeg, a hint of sugar, all carefully measured to bring out that sought-after flavor.

Finally, it was time to fry. The simmering heat of the oil filled the kitchen, and I gingerly lowered the first batch of chin chin into the sizzling pot. The delightful aroma that began to waft through the air made my heart race with anticipation. I couldn't wait to see and, more importantly, taste the results of my culinary experiment.

As each piece of chin chin emerged golden and glistening from the oil, my excitement reached its peak. However, as I took the first bite of the freshly fried chin chin, to my surprise, it was softer than expected – almost doughnut-like in texture. It certainly wasn't what I had imagined, and for a moment, I worried that my effort had fallen short.

But then something magical happened. My worries vanished as the chin chin met my taste buds. The flavor was unmistakably delicious - a perfect blend of sweetness and warmth. I couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected result. Yes, the texture was different, but the taste was undeniably satisfying. It was an unexpected twist that left me feeling both perplexed and delighted.

Presenting it to others became an amusing affair. They would laugh when they first felt the surprising softness of the chin chin, expecting the usual crunch. However, their laughter turned to praise the moment they took a bite. The joy on their faces and the chorus of compliments that followed were the most rewarding parts of this little baking adventure.

In the end, my first attempt at making chin chin didn't turn out quite as expected, but it surely left an impression – a tale of perfectly imperfect, delightfully delicious, and unforgettable culinary surprise

Uju was notorious for her uncanny ability to wake up in the middle of the night and sneak into the kitchen to steal pieces of meat from the pots that her mother had prepared for the next day's meal. Her stealthy meat raids were the stuff of legends in her household, and no one could catch her in the act.

No matter what precautions her family took, Uju always found a way to outsmart them. Her mother tried placing the pots in different spots, her father attempted to stay awake to catch her, and her older brother even set up intricate traps around the kitchen, but all their efforts were in vain.

One night, the family decided to come up with a plan to teach Uju a lesson. They devised a cunning strategy involving fake meat, a hidden camera, and a loud alarm. Little did Uju know that her days of meat thievery were about to come to an end.

That night, Uju predictably snuck into the kitchen and, with an experienced hand, lifted the lid of the largest pot. She reached in to grab a succulent piece of meat, completely unaware that her family was watching the entire scene unfold on their hidden camera with bated breath.

As Uju triumphantly raised the piece of meat to her lips, she suddenly heard a loud, blaring sound that echoed through the house. Startled, she jerked back, spilling the meat onto the floor. Alas, it wasn't meat at all – it was a cleverly disguised toy made to look like meat! Uju's timing couldn't have been worse as her family rushed into the kitchen, catching her red-handed, surrounded by fake, rubbery meat.

As they all burst into laughter, Uju realized that her stealthy escapades had finally come to an end. From that day on, she became famous in her village as "the girl who got outsmarted by fake meat." And as Uju's family enjoyed the real meat with the most uproarious laughter, she learned an important lesson about honesty and the consequences of messing with fake meat in the middle of the night.

"Look at how far we've come" I thought aloud flipping through my books. Childhood felt like it was yesterday and yet seemingly far away. The chirping sounds of birds that we looked forward to every morning, what took that longing away?

Was it the growth spurt? Maybe a change of environment or the new minds we opened up to. Millions of unprocessed thoughts flooded my mind and the best I could do was keep calm and refocus my mind on an open 10month old long note still wondering how I developed passion for reading.

Seated in front of a 30+ people class and waiting for my turn, all I could do was throw glances across the beautiful minds I met in school. My eyes finally found rest on my colleague who was tutoring the class on dietary fibres, she swayed forth and back nervously but soon found faith to stand firm.

Alas! She bowed out, passing the microphone to me, I was overwhelmed with fright but this is not about me, it's about passing the value I've learnt within to these beautiful faces and with that assurance, I sighed and greeted the class.

Living with a neighbor who constantly shouted at any little thing was exhausting, to say the least. It seemed like she was always the loudest one around—laughing, snoring, even walking in a way that could probably be heard several floors up. It felt like her voice became the soundtrack to my daily life and I was desperate for a change.

I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to confront her one day, feeling the frustration boil over. To my surprise, her reaction was unexpected. When I addressed the extreme loudness that was causing so much irritation, she didn't take offense. Instead, she listened and surprisingly, things began to change.

The girl turned a new leaf. Quietly, her laughter softened, her movements became more considerate, and the house felt strangely peaceful. I thought her calmness when I brought up the issue could have been a way of mocking me, but as time went on, I realized it wasn't an act.

As she transformed her behavior, my feelings towards her began to change. What was once a strong dislike turned into a growing sense of fondness. We started talking more, and our initial animosity slowly evolved into a budding friendship. It was an unexpected turn of events, and I found myself looking forward to the possibility of a closer relationship in the long run.

Sometimes, the greatest surprises come from the most unexpected places, and the lousy neighbor who once filled my life with noise was now becoming a welcome presence on the quiet street we both called home.

In the beautiful village of Ikot Abasi, my childhood was filled with joy, friendship, and football. Every day, my friends and I gathered at the village square, our special spot to play.
With our bare feet and our hearts full of excitement, we chased the ball through the streets. Each game was an adventure, testing our skills and passion for the sport.

But one day, during a game, I collided with another player and hurt my leg badly. I lay on the ground, feeling pain and disappointment. I worried I might never play football again.
But through it all, my mom was there for me, comforting me and taking care of me. She stayed by my side every step of the way.

For three weeks, I stayed in bed, my leg wrapped in bandages. But with my mom's love and care, I started to feel better. Even though I couldn't play football anymore, I found strength in my mom's support. She spent so much time with me praying that I will recover soon and be able to play ball again.
As I healed, I realized that while I might not play football again, the memories and the love of my mom would stay with me forever. With her by my side, I knew I could overcome anything life threw my way.

With every tapping sound, my hope grew stronger. Ig had started to rain some blocks away and I couldn't hide my joy as I picked my water cans and placed them on designed spots.

So after the intense heat that we have suffered so far, we are finally going to smell rain, I told myself.
The sound drew nearer and louder as the downpour struck the roof. It seemed to be one of these kind of heavy downpour that always lasted for several hours and I prayed it did.

I quickly slipped under my bedsheets, the temperature was already cold from the strong waves of chilly air that the rain brought along.
I was still fantasising and enjoying the mere thoughts of the rain and dozed off and the next time my eyelids loosened up, it was still raining.
With renewed joy I went back to my slumber.

Couple years ago my artist visa expired and became illegal in the US. My friend offered to marry me so I could stay, and I created a Coinbase under her name(she knew) as I needed KYC. She saw me sending money through there and started asking for money.

Bear in mind I'm an artist who lost his job, his home and didn't have much. I bought 400 dollars of Shiba Inu after I saw Doge go parabolic. It went to 3k she knew about it and asked me for 2k, which I sent.

Not long after she needed 9k to move to a new state, for an apartment deposit, etc. I sold what was left of my Shiba Inu and gave it all to her.

A month later she decided not to go through with it anymore as it was too demanding for her to help me.

I'm still illegal. I struggle everyday. I can't get a legal job and my Shiba would have been worth around 4.4 million dollars. She still texts me trying to be friends but I hate her and myself more then anything everyday.

I awoke tired and irritable after a restless night of combating mosquitoes. The insecticide I had used before had proven to be ineffective, leaving me with nothing but frustration. Determined to find a more potent solution, I decided to head out and search for a better insecticide.

The market was bustling with activity, and I found myself surrounded by numerous options, each claiming to be the most efficient at repelling insects. However, I was taken aback by the high prices of most of the products. After browsing through several stalls, I came across an attentive seller who recommended a particular insecticide, boasting of its effectiveness and quick action against mosquitoes.

Though a bit skeptical, I hesitantly purchased the recommended insecticide, hoping that it would indeed live up to its promise. As I made my way home, I felt a glimmer of hope that I had finally found the solution to my mosquito troubles.

Now, I sit in my room, eagerly waiting for the opportune moment to unleash the newly acquired insecticide. As the sun begins to set and the first buzz of mosquitoes fills the air, I hold the bottle tightly, anticipating the impending eradication of these bothersome insects. With a sense of determination, I patiently await the perfect time to spray my room, and I am ready to witness the mosquitoes' dance to their demise.

Today was a day of relentless scrolling through the internet for me. I dived headfirst into news updates, amusing comedy reels, and various random posts. The thrill of discovering new content and being entertained held me captive. Time drifted away as I mindlessly tapped through the virtual world that had me hooked.

Then, a message appeared in the WhatsApp chat – no lectures today. With that news, I gleefully surrendered myself to leisure time and continued to amuse myself with my phone, oblivious to the world around me.

But soon enough, reality intruded when the electricity began to falter. I tried to counter the unstable power supply by booting up with a power bank, only to realize that my charging cord was loose. Before I knew it, my phone died, and the realization struck that I had ignored my basic needs.

Hunger pangs were kicking in, and all I had consumed throughout the morning was a shocking four packs of biscuits. I scavenged the kitchen to gather the necessary ingredients for a dish of spaghetti, intending to craft a dish that would delight my taste buds. Despite my efforts, I discovered that my gas was almost depleted.

Stubbornly, I let the gas cylinder burn out as I cooked, even though the gas was fading. The dish wasn't fully cooked, but with a swift stir, I managed to cover my tracks.
After I scoop a hot full plate and taken a mouthful, the food was more delicious than expected.

Last night was absolutely unbearable. The heat was unforgiving, and I found myself tossing and turning, drenched in sweat. It was as if my body had turned into its own personal sauna. I could hardly believe how profusely I was perspiring; it felt like I could literally wring out my clothes and take a bath in my own sweat. The thought was far from appealing, but that's just how relentless the heat was.

As the night dragged on, it became clear that sleep was a distant dream. I lay there, feeling like I was melting, unable to find any relief. It wasn't until the early hours of the morning, around 4am, that I finally caved in to my desperation for sleep. Feeling defeated, I grabbed a towel, wet it thoroughly, and laid it out on the floor. It was the best I could do. I collapsed on the damp, cool surface, hoping for some respite.

Eventually, the floor chilled my overheated body, and exhaustion finally won over the oppressive heat. I drifted off into a fitful sleep, with the faint aroma of the damp floor serving as a reminder of the night's torment. It wasn't the most dignified way to pass the night, but in that oppressive heat, any relief was a blessing. I could only hope that tonight would be kinder.

The sounds of spectators cheering on Nigeria and Ivory Coast during the AFCON finals spread throughout the neighborhood as I sat in my room. As Nigeria took a 1-0 lead, there was an obvious sense of anxiety in the air, and the sound of celebratory firecrackers going off filled the night sky.

The happy festivity turned into chants and singing, which energized the atmosphere. Nigeria appeared to be on the verge of victory, and the excitement was intense.

But when Ivory Coast equalized, the mood swiftly changed, putting an end to the applause and leaving everyone in disbelief. The once-enthusiastic gathering dropped into a depressing silence as the situation's reality set in.

With a final score of 2-1, Ivory Coast triumphed, dashing the expectations of Nigerian supporters and leaving everyone dejected. With an overpowering feeling of disappointment, the festive atmosphere subsided and the watchers scattered, returning to their normal lives.

There was a silent recognition of the skill of both sides and the passion of the game amid the disappointment. Even though Nigeria might not have won, there was appreciation for Ivory Coast's victory as they deserved the game's result.

With each tik, the sound got nearer and my hearing capacity got better. It was 12 pm and I couldn't do anything but roll side by side on my bed.

The heat was too much, so I took of my clothes and lay naked, thanks to the fact that I lived alone.
The heat wasn't easing after all so I had to pick a thin book to give myself one of the most popular traditional method of ventilation that I knew about.

At each stroke, my arm grew weaker.
God knew that I wanted nothing more than the electricity distribution company to perform a miracle at that point in time.
Just recently, I have noticed a downside from their end...
... they always ensure that in a day of 100% we are with 7% with power, the rest of 93% leaves us wallowing in blackouts.

But then it's alright, I've got to go take my bath now and prepare for the AFCON match that awaits us, see yall later.

It all began in the heat of the day, when the neighborhood had taken shelter from the scorching sun. I was indoors with the company of my mom and brother, unwary of any looming danger. The silence that had long gripped the house was broken when my sister pushed the front door open. Amidst the struggle of pulling her socks, she spotted a snake wrapped around my footwear and immediately raised the alarm that would soon spread into the neighborhood.

Without hesitation, my elder brother who was seated about an arm's length from the door reached out and pulled her inside first, before dashing out to tackle the situation. In the aftermath of the alarm, pandemonium erupted — my mom rushed out first to have a glimpse that left her stunned, she could only scream "Bring a pestle, bring me something!!!"
Fortunately, my sister understood the situation and selected the deadliest weapon from the arsenal — a cutlass, handed it over to my mom who flung it onto the verandah and shut the door behind us.

In the midst of this chaos, I had remained seated convinced it was just a little lost snake until my brother called for immediate backup. Reluctantly, I answered the Call to Duty and stepped out. The alarm had already awakened several people who gathered to cheer my brother on as he continued to besiege stacks of concrete blocks where the cunning creature had taken refuge. I was eager to see the scoundrel that had posed a nuisance to my state of tranquility.

My brother beckoned to me the moment I arrived, "Hold this stick! Once you spot its head, strike without hesitation." My goodness, I arrived on the battlefield without any knowledge of the enemy's plan. This guy won't let me settle, and neither will the crowd, as they continue cheering from a distance. I did a quick survey of these newfound fans — a granny, two middle aged women, a couple who seemed to be in their early sixties and my mother, now the cheerleader of this temporary supporters club.

The ambush was perfect, the first strike forced the snake out and it raced towards the granny, mama responded by galloping for safety. Fortunately, the chase was intercepted and the snake returned to its refuge. As we rallied around it trying to figure out the best way to end this disturbance, a girl emerged with a cup of kerosene — quite the African way to finish off snakes. And for a big one like this, it will be wise to deploy the immobilization before extermination strategy and so we emptied the cup's contents right inside the block stacks.

Left with no space to breathe nor escape, the snake made one final death launch to the open space that will soon become its graveyard. We answered in kind but fully on guard against being bitten as it slithered left and right writhing for life. Alas! it was subdued and when the dust settled, I drew out the cutlass that had been buried in sand during the siege and proceeded to end the battle.

The couple made a request to take photographs before its head was detached. What a lovely, hilarious sight as the man picked up and jokingly threw the snake to his wife, so the battlefield had now become a playground for them. I had no option than to leave the dying snake to itself, my work there is done and the couples would determine its fate.

Like a returning soldier, I nodded my head in satisfaction at the cheers of the neighborhood, praising us for taking out a major threat to their safety. What a Day! 🌃

Today, I woke up with a heavy head and an empty stomach, feeling drained and unable to muster the strength to get out of bed. I lay there, layering the blankets on top of me, allowing the warmth to cocoon my body as I drifted in and out of sleep until noon.

I had lost all motivation to cook or even lift a finger. The thought of food seemed daunting, and I resigned myself to staying in bed, hoping the day would pass quickly.

Just when I had given up on the idea of having a cooked meal, a gentle knock on the door interrupted the silence. It was my neighbor, Nick. He stood there with a plate of warm, steaming rice in his hands. It was as if God had sent him, knowing that I needed help.

Without a word, I stretched out my hand and accepted the food gratefully. Nick came in and we sat together, discussing the mundane and the meaningful. In our conversation, he mentioned that his power bank had run out, and I gladly lent him mine without a second thought.

It turned out to be a beautiful Sunday, unexpected and heartwarming. The simple act of kindness from my neighbor restored my faith in humanity and made me realize that even in the midst of my struggles, there are still moments of grace and connection.

And just after classes today and after the strenous walk from school to my apartment, I sat comfortably on the warm comfort of the soothing fabric -called bed, and dozed off deep in thoughts to the life I used to have as a kid.

The life I had was not used to this stress.
The life I had was peaceful and full of happiness memories and comfort, the only thing that ever worried me then was the denial of the sweet early morning sleeps that sets to mark trigger our student's role each working day.

The roads was always clear and peaceful and utterly was fun too to pick twigs and fling them to my fellow mates leaving roars of laughter as we strolled down the streets from school.

Things to eat wasn't a problem because dad and mum always provides, school fees wasn't a problem because eventually, it'd be paid.
We feared no harm on the way because as children, our hearts was pure and we knew no enemy.

Always absorbed in weekend play with the fellas and would skip morning and afternoon meals just so we could enjoy the fun to it's fullest.

Nature knew us and we understood its happiness.
I think I want my childhood back.

Once the joyous festivities of Christmas had come to an end, I found myself facing the task of packing up for school. As I carefully folded my clothes and placed them into my bag, a sense of unease settled within me. The holiday season had brought warmth, laughter, and the comforting presence of loved ones. But now, as I prepared to return to school, a wave of loneliness washed over me.

I had always cherished the holiday break, cherishing the moments spent with my family and the joyful gatherings with friends. However, the prospect of going back to school meant leaving behind the familiar comforts and stepping into a world where I often felt a sense of isolation.

As I zipped up my bag, memories of previous school terms flooded my mind. I remembered the moments of feeling like an outsider in a sea of classmates, and the longing for deeper connections. The thought of returning to that environment made my heart heavy.
But amid the unease, a flicker of determination ignited within me. I realized that I had the power to change my experience and to embrace the new term as an opportunity for growth and the chance to build meaningful friendships.

Whatever the year brings, I'll shuffle through it, but for now let's set out for yet another adventurous season.

Today, I had absolutely no motivation to step outside. The thought of going out just seemed like a herculean task, and so I decided to spend my day indoors. I ended up lounging on the sofa, watching endless videos, and immersing myself in my favorite video games.

As the day wore on, I became completely oblivious to the passage of time. I was so engrossed in the entertainment that the hours slipped by unnoticed. Before I knew it, it was already 10 pm, and I was astonished at how the day had flown by without me even realizing it.

It felt strange to have spent the entire day cooped up inside, without any real human interaction and without the typical distractions of the outside world. However, there was something strangely satisfying about allowing myself to be lazy and enjoy uninterrupted relaxation. The peace and quiet of the day were a welcome change from the usual hustle and bustle, and I found joy in being able to unwind without any external demands or disturbances.

As the day came to an end, I couldn't help but acknowledge how peculiar it was to spend the entire day indoors, yet at the same time, how delightful it had been. It was a comforting and serene experience, and I appreciated the tranquility and solace that came with it. Although it was unusual, there was a certain sweetness in indulging in an entire day of laziness and solitude, something that I hadn't allowed myself to do for a long time.