Mindviewers Stories

Last semester, my classmates and I had just finished studying and writing an exam on metabolism. After the exam, we all logged onto our departmental group chat to discuss our experience and share our thoughts about the questions. It seemed like everyone was in agreement - the exam questions were ridiculously easy!

We chuckled and teased each other about how we had anticipated a challenging test, but ended up breezing through it without breaking a sweat. The group chat was buzzing with excitement as we proudly claimed our victory over the exam. We even joked about how our professor must have given us an unexpected gift with such straightforward questions.

Little did we know, our celebrations were premature. Today, the exam results were released, and to our dismay, nearly 80% of the class had scored either an "E" or an "F" grade. Shocked and confused, I couldn't wrap my head around the dismal outcome of the exam. How could the same questions that we had breezed through result in such poor performance?

As I write this, my phone incessantly buzzes with new notifications from the group chat. Each message holds a lament from a classmate, expressing their disbelief and frustration. It seems like we're spiraling into a cycle of disappointment and confusion, desperately seeking answers for our unexpected grades.

The group chat has now become a battleground of emotions. Every two minutes, new messages flood in, each one lamenting the unfairness of the exam and questioning our professor's intentions. The once cheerful atmosphere has transformed into a cloud of gloom and frustration as we try to console and support each other in our collective disappointment.

Once there were twins, Mark and Michael, Mark was the owner of an old boat. It so happened that Michael's wife died the same day that Mark's boat sank.
A few days later, a kindly old woman saw Mark and mistook him for Michael. She said, "I'm sorry to hear about your loss. You must just feel terrible."
Mark, thinking that she was talking about his boat, said, "Heck no. In fact, I'm sort of glad to be rid of her. She was a rotten old thing right from the beginning. Her bottom was all shrivelled up and she smelled like old dead fish. She was always losing her water; she had a bad crack in the back and a pretty big hole in the front too. Every time I used her, her hole got bigger and she leaked like crazy. I guess what finally finished her off was when I rented her to these four guys looking for a good time. I warned them that she wasn't very good, but they wanted to use her anyhow. The fools tried to get in her all at once and she split right up the middle!"
The old lady fainted.
🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂
Have a nice Friday!

I worked hard in my family's village farms with my friends today. At noon, we were so tired to continue under the angry sun, having decided that we had done enough tiling and planting, we went to Grandma's house. We helped her cook beans in her small kitchen, filled with many memories and the good food we made together. Grandma shared her cooking tricks, making the simple beans taste amazing.

We sat around a table full of the food we cooked, enjoying the result of our work. The beans weren't just food; they held stories from our past and connected us to our family roots. The last time I visited was during childhood, about 5 years ago and it feels like yesterday.

After a day of laughter and shared moments, we rested in Grandma's cool house. The night was calm, filled with stories and the life of the village. When morning came, we felt refreshed, and we greeted Grandma goodbye.

Heading home, we walked the familiar path, appreciating our hardwork and the bond we shared. The village stayed in our hearts, a place we would return to, passing down traditions to the next generations.

Once upon a time, there was a free-spirited girl named Emma who had an undying love for fashion. She possessed a unique style that often involved wearing skimpy skirts and short gowns, regardless of the advice from her concerned friends and family. Emma believed that fashion was a form of self-expression and she reveled in the attention her daring outfits would bring.

One fateful day, Emma decided to venture out to the local market in a vibrant yellow flare gown. The gown barely grazed her knees and indeed showcased her vibrant personality. Ignoring the skeptical glances from her friends, Emma twirled around in front of the mirror, savoring the feeling of boldness that radiated from her outfit. Little did she know that a harsh wind was brewing just outside the door.

As Emma strutted confidently through the market, vendors and shoppers paused to catch a glimpse of her colorful attire. People whispered to one another about her audacious fashion choices, but Emma remained blissfully unaware, basking in her own unique style. However, fate had other plans in store for her that day.

Suddenly, a gust of wind surged through the market, picking up speed as it approached Emma. As everyone held their breath, the wind forcefully lifted her flowy yellow gown, causing it to soar high above her waist. To the shock and delight of onlookers, Emma found herself unintentionally revealing more than she had ever expected.

Giggles and laughter erupted from the crowd as Emma frantically tried to pull down her gown, her face turning a vibrant shade of red to match her outfit. The wind seemed to tease her, continuously lifting her gown every time she managed to tug it back down.

Embarrassed and flustered, Emma hurriedly made her way to a nearby hiding spot, seeking solace from the onlookers who had become an unintentional audience to her wardrobe malfunction. It was in that quiet moment of reflection that she finally learned a valuable lesson.

From that day forward, Emma realized that there is a fine line between fashion-forward and fashion disaster. While she still appreciated the idea of being bold and unique, she discovered the importance of considering practicality and comfort as well. No longer would she disregard the advice of her friends and family, who had only wished to spare her from such humiliating experiences.

Read love grammar below:-
G. C. K
P.O. BOX 2004 Katsina-Ala,
Benue State Nigeria .
21st March, 2007.

Dear Sweet,
Time and ability plus double capacity has forced my pen to dance automatically on this benedicted sheet of paper. I hope you're swimming in the wonderful pool of Mr. Health there. I am also parambulating in the cool breeze of wellness here.
Sweetie pie, the reason why this miraculous thing is happening is because, honey, I love you spontaneously, and as I stand horizontally parallel to the wall and vertically perpendicular to the ground now, I only think of you, since you are a fantastic and fabulous girl, put together as fantabulous. I implore you to decipher this my anthem of love oozing out from the innermost pendulum of my thoraxial cavity.
Darling, please stop haranguing with the feelings in my heart because I love you more than a snake loves rat.
I start each day dreaming of you. Each time I see you, my metabolism suddenly halts and my peristalsis goes in reverse gear. My medula oblongata also ceases functioning.
Crazy, crazy, crazy you may say but this is verily veritable. If only you knew what is going on in my encephalon, you would prostrate. That's why I need to see you vis a vis for a better elucidation through tete a tete. No hyperbole & onomatopoeia, simple candidness.
Only you and me are protagonists in this subtle affair. As I cogitate and ruminate over the last episode, I genuflex before the Omnipotent and implore him to let this affair emulsify.
By the way, I was bamboozled, scintilated, exhilarated, and left in a state of prolonged euphoria by the contents of your missive which was quite edifying and exalting. It left my bio-chemistry in a paradise-like equilibrium.
Empirically speaking, I love u chemically . I drop my pen✍️ into the holy basket of love 🤣🤣
Yours darling Shagbaor

Queen Amina, was a warrior Queen of the Zaria Emirate, which is in modern day Nigeria 🇳🇬 — At a time when men dominated most aspects of life, Amina the Queen of Zazzau emerged. A skillful Hausa warrior, she commanded a vast army which conquered many territories and greatly expanded her kingdom.

African feminist ancestors. Commonly known as the warrior Queen, Queen Amina of Zaria was the first woman to become the Sarauniya (Queen) in a male-dominated society. She was also known as the warrior Queen, and she was the first Woman who ruled an African kingdom for over 30 years in the 16th century. One of the greatest warriors ever to emerge from Africa 🌍 in the 16th century was Queen Amina of Zazzau. Queen Amina was a legendary and eager warrior, and as a child her grandmother found her wielding a dagger ⚔ as nimbly as any warrior. During her reign, she commanded the construction of a defensive mural around each military camp that she established. Later, those camps evolved into prosperous cities within those walls, and some can still be seen today in northern Nigeria. Those cities are known as walls ‘ganuwar of Amina’ or ‘Amina’s walls‘. It is believed that Amina died in the town of Altagara in1610. Today, Amina is remembered in Nigeria as ‘Amina, rana de Yar Bakwa ta San’ (Amina, daughter of Nikatau, woman as capable as a man). The introduction of kola nuts into the region is often attributed to Amina. Amina is celebrated across the Hausa land as a great warrior queen who was born to rule, and led thousands of soldiers to war. Her statue is currently present at the center of Lagos.

Something strange is happening. From Lagos to Sagamu, Ibadan to Katsina, the Agbados are wailing. Like the price of bread & food shortages was part of the reason for the French Revolution, rising food prices (especially that of fish) may have inspired the Nigerian Revolution. Pls Pay Attention!

A Revolution already begun. Although subtle & driven by the APC, Nigerians watch & take notes. When the people feel their voices are not being heard, resistance is the result!

I have seen at least 10 music videos streaming the Lamentations of the APC, Agbado Branch. The people that call us the wailers, that said we will wail for eight years, their mommies & daddies are seeing shege pro max already. They have fallen on hard times, & are leading a Fish Protest.

Something already left the stables, an omen, no one can tell its shape or form, but its there, lurking in the shadows.

One lit💥, it explodes! The rascality of the APC is the precursor to a much bigger event, it starts slowly, then it snowballs into anarchy. Students of History knows this.

Civilizations changed, age-long autocratic monarchies came to a close. And when calm returned, no one remembered when it started. Nigeria will be no different.

YOUR NIGERIA IS CHANGING!!!

There are two types of seasons in Nigeria. Wet, then Dry (otherwise called the harmattan). The APC are gathering the harmattan winds, & when it blows, BOOM💥, it goes with fire.

The hardships & the hunger (the lack of distributed economic wealth they created & weaponized as tools for winning elections), will in due time unite Nigerians against them. It’s already happening in plain sight, only those with a discerning eye can see it.

The War of Attrition is far from over, it only just started. You wicked politicians should enjoy your temporal reprieve, for now!!

Hello family, so I'm going to make this story shorter than usual as I'm having a little headache, please do stone me with likes as you have always done.

It was one of those evenings when the sun had hidden its glory beneath the clutches of the tick clouds when sounds go far as the day comes to an end.
I tossed my bag on the bed and headed to the kitchen to get a little gift for the tummy.
In minutes, I felt fulfilled and needed a nap but then, there was this little record I needed to take down before I dozed.

Too lazy to use the table, I spread the sheets on the rug, and just when I was about to stretch my legs which felt a little uncomfortable by what I thought was a mere ant, my leg was struck.

I would say by lightning, but there were no thunderbolts,
was there a naked wire lying around? I asked myself as I rubbed the spot in pain bending to take a closer look at the area where my leg had been.

It held its muscular tail up and was ready to strike again, it was a scorpion.
Another wave of shock rushed down at the sight of the arachnid, I had never been stung by a scorpion before.

The broom was close and I didn't find it difficult to lift twice as I landed two blows on the...

I'll continue this story later dear friends, please leave a like

As the raindrops tapped gently against my window, I found solace in the rhythmic harmony of my Chinese tranquil music. The melodic tunes wrapped around me like a comforting embrace, creating a serene atmosphere within the confines of my room.

The absence of electricity enhanced the tranquility and fully complemented the soothing music. Each note seemed to synchronize with the rain's gentle drops, I could only get more engrossed with such a masterpiece.

Closing my eyes, the sound of raindrops became a backdrop to my thoughts, allowing my mind to wander through the world painted by the music. The music transported me to a realm where time seemed to slow down, and the worries of a long Sunday melted away.

The music became a companion, guiding me through a dreamlike journey. Hours slipped by unnoticed, and when I finally opened my eyes this morning, the rain had stopped but the music lingered in the air, reminding me of the tranquil atmosphere that enhanced my night. It was a night where nature met with artistry, leaving a memory that would stay alive in the melody of my thoughts for nights to come.

Chide, a student in the SS2 class, was known for his infectious positivity and ever-present smile. He was always the first to crack a joke and sprinkle the classroom with light-hearted banter. However, there was one aspect of Chide's persona that everyone found particularly amusing - his love for being called a "politician".

Whenever his friends jovially referred to him as a potential "future president" or "minister in waiting," Chide would beam with pride. He would take on an air of importance, often launching into dramatic speeches about his "political prowess" and his "vision for the future". His classmates soon caught on to the fact that the quickest way to brighten Chide's day was to playfully dub him "Mr. Politician".

But everything changed when it was time to appoint new functionaries from their set. As soon as the announcement was made, Chide's eyes lit up. He believed that he was destined for something significant. With an unwavering confidence, he immediately rushed to apply for the post of senior prefect, eager to assume a position of leadership that would validate his ambitions of being a "politician".

Amid cheers and support from his friends, Chide began his tenure as senior prefect with high hopes and grand ambitions. However, reality quickly caught up with him. The second day into office, Chide developed a ferocious headache from the stress of his new responsibilities. His once energetic strides were replaced by sluggish steps, and his cheery disposition transformed into a pale, worn-out semblance of his former self.

As the days passed, Chide's ailment only worsened. Despite his fervent belief that he could handle the demands of the office better than anyone else, the toll of senior prefect duties took a significant toll on his well-being. It became clear that the role wasn't the glamorous, stress-free position he had envisioned.

On the third day, he stood in front of his fellow students, declaring his decision to step down as senior prefect, citing his health as the primary reason. As he publicly renounced the responsibility he had been so eager to embrace, the students present couldn't help but stifle giggles at the sight of the once proud and confident young man.

Ibadan, the capital of Oyo state, is the largest city in Nigeria and the third in Africa after Cairo and Johannesburg. The city which lies in the south-western part of Nigeria is known for its rich and fascinating cultures, lifestyle, history and spellbinding tourist destinations, One of the most visited tourist destinations in Ibadan is the University of Ibadan zoological garden which proudly houses different animals ranging from lions to rabbits. It is a popular custom of many families living in Ibadan to visit the zoo during festive periods to hang out and have fun as well.
So, on a fateful (later bloody) day in the Easter season of the year 1991, visitors stormed the U.I zoo as usual to enjoy the serene environment of the enclosure and have fun seeing different animals they have only seen on screens. Of all the animals in the a man, a bold and daring prophet by the name Daniel Abodurin who wanted to show people the ‘work of God of Daniel‘ by walking into the lions’ cage to touch them like Daniel did in the bible without getting mauled. Prophet Abodurin’s intention was to recreate the biblical story of a young man named Daniel who out of envy was thrown to some lions that turned out to have been mysteriously tamed. The biblical story has it that God sent down some angels to shut the mouths of the lions.
The determined Prophet Daniel Abodurin walked up to some staff of the zoo and pleaded to gain entry into the lions’ cage. No one in his or her right senses will give ears to this kind of plea, so the prophet was turned down. But after much disturbance and persuasion, the prophet’s insane wish was granted. Another account has it that Prophet Abodurin sneaked into the lions’ cage. Sneaking or no sneaking, he eventually found his way into the cage. Many people present at the scene could not believe what their eyes were seeing, and realizing it was not a dream, they prepared their mind for the worst result. Prophet Daniel Abodurin was clothed in a red robe and under his armpit was a big bible. As he entered the cage, he began reciting bible verses and speaking in tongues and calling unto the ‘God of Daniel’ to perform wonders. It was gathered that he was shouting jah, jah, jah which was believed to be a shortened form of Jehovah. At first, the lions retreated to a corner of their cage. Unknown to the to-be African version of Daniel, retreating is the first thing lions do when they see something unusual in their territory and later they get rid of it. Prophet Abodurin thought his faith was really working. He moved nearer to the lions and kept chanting bible verses, then in a flash, the lions pounced on the bemused, confused and horrified prophet. A cold stream of shock ran down the spines of the terrified onlookers.
Prophet Daniel Abodurin battled for his dear life but his strength was no match for that of the hefty lions, and in a moment, he was torn into pieces and devoured. His bloody red robe laid in shreds and his bible which he had flung away at the beginning of the attack was covered in dust. Stampede ensued in the zoo as people took to their heels after seeing such a horrible sight they will never forget in their lives.
The prophet’s remains were collected and later buried. That was how Prophet Daniel Abodurin met his

Once upon a time, in the enchanting Dogs Kingdom, a democracy flourished that put Nigerian politics to shame. In this whimsical land, dogs of all shapes and sizes gathered to elect their leaders with a level of integrity and fairness that seemed unimaginable elsewhere. The canine citizens were astute and discerning, sniffing out the true intentions of their candidates with remarkable accuracy.

In this remarkable democracy, campaigns were conducted with wagging tails and playful barks instead of deceitful speeches and empty promises. The candidates, adorned with colorful bandanas and shiny collars, showcased their skills and abilities through friendly competitions and acts of kindness towards their fellow dogs. The citizens, ever vigilant, evaluated each candidate's loyalty, compassion, and ability to fetch a stick with grace and precision.

The Dogs Kingdom democracy was a beacon of hope, where leaders were chosen based on merit rather than personal gain. The elected officials, known as the "Paw-liticians," worked tirelessly to improve the lives of their fellow canines. They implemented policies that ensured equal access to treats, established dog parks in every neighborhood, and even organized a national holiday dedicated to belly rubs. The Dogs Kingdom had truly achieved a level of governance that left Nigerian politics in the dust, proving that sometimes, the most unlikely places can teach us the greatest lessons in democracy.

Orji is originally from Enugu State, the south-eastern part of Nigeria but lived in Lagos state, the south western part of Nigeria where he originally guised as a razor-blade merchant but would later abandon the trade and proclaim himself to be a shaman and on multiple occasions would feign temporary insanity to dissuade people from coming close to his place of abode. Orji did not possess a house and lived under a bridge in Oshodi-Isolo In what could be well described as a lair and would later be commonly referred to as
'Clifford's kitchen." In the dead of the night, he usually blanketed the air around with the meat-like odour from his special barbecue. people merely suspected that this barbecue-loving recluse was not normal; that he was possibly mad but no one was prepared for the horrendous discovery of that haunting Wednesday.On February 3, 1999 A shrill cry of a famished and emaciated lady, waiting to be slaughtered, was what gave Orji away that Wednesday. The noise attracted passers-by who not only discovered the woman but also stumbled on a collection of human parts in Orji’s make-shift home. Human bones, skulls, legs, hands, freshly cooked soup with human meat, a cheque for ₦80,000, and a mobile phone, at a time when the G.S.M. had not been fully introduced to the Nigerian market, so only wealthy people had mobile phones. Surrounded, Orji ran but the crowd gave chase, no one noticed a small, emaciated woman imprisoned inside the tyres of Orji’s shack. It was only after he was caught and dragged back to watch the mob demolish his home that Awawu Lawal was discovered awaiting her turn on the menu. The sight of the filthy, starving woman drove the crowd wild. They beat her captor until the police arrived. Lawal died several days later after falling into a coma. The crowd then turned their attention to a man they knew to be Orji’s friend, Tahiru Aliyu. He lived nearby The mob tore his shack down too, and found a 4m pit underneath where some of the victims were kept ...
before they were killed and cooked. The cannibal told the police he would entrance women by blowing on their foreheads and they would then follow him back to the underpass. “I will have a sexual affair with her to a state of coma before we slaughter her and roast,” he said. “I am not alone. I have between four and 10 people. They take their own parts and go while I wait for another `meat’.” Orji’s statement to the police has fuelled speculation that he was butchering his victims for more than his own consumption. People in the area said they regularly saw upmarket cars stopping beneath the flyover. To some it explains why none of the victims heads have been found. In Nigeria there is a discreet trade in body parts for religious or medicinal ceremonies. At a news conference organized by the police, Orji confessed to kidnapping, murder and cannibalism, saying that he and his accomplice "had been eating human meat for the past seven years before coming to Lagos. It is our culture to eat human meat." On December 7, 2000, he was remanded for murder in Kirikiri Prison, which is Nigeria's only super-maximum prison.
In April 2012, after approximately 12 years in prison without his case coming to trial, Orji sued the Attorney-General of Lagos State, Ade Ipaye, for unlawful imprisonment. Prison authorities stated that they had been unable to have him treated for mental illness, which had progressed and he could not be tried when insane. He died at the age of 46 on August 17, 2012. An autopsy established that his death was from natural causes.

In the heart of my childhood kitchen, the familiar dance of pots and pans played out as I tackled the challenge of cooking beans for my dad. Lingering memories of previous attempts whispered doubts, but today held the promise of something different. Despite my initial reluctance, I stood before the stove, ready to dive into the culinary adventure.

Being a good cook didn't always translate to meeting my dad's discerning taste. His last complaint lingered in my mind – the beans weren't cooked enough, the seeds too hard. This time, determined to get it right, I decided to give the beans ample time to soften. The kitchen transformed into a space of patience and anticipation as I let them simmer.

Three hours passed – each minute a testament to dedication. The aroma intensified, signaling the culmination of effort. The kitchen, once a realm of doubt, became a haven of anticipation. Finally, the meal was ready, and I served a portion to my dad. The room held a quiet suspense, waiting for his verdict.

Breaking the silence, my dad smiled and uttered a single word that echoed with triumph: "Delicious." In that moment, the kitchen transformed into a canvas of shared joy, and the beans, now more than a dish, became a vessel for the warmth and connection between me and my dad.

I was feeling tired and restless during the night vigil yesterday. I had been up all day, and I was starting to lose focus on the prayers and readings. My mind kept wandering to thoughts of my comfortable bed and the warm covers that awaited me at home.
I was about to give in to temptation and leave the vigil when I heard the priest's voice say, "We are called to be faithful to God, even when it is difficult." His words struck a chord with me, and I knew that I could not give up.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I focused on the sound of my own breathing and the image of Jesus Christ on the cross. I reminded myself of all the reasons why I was there: to pray for myself and my loved ones, to give thanks to God for all of my blessings, and to ask for strength to face the challenges of life.
I opened my eyes and felt a sense of peace wash over me. I knew that I could make it through the rest of the vigil. I continued to pray and listen to the readings, and I felt a sense of connection to God that I had not felt in a long time.
When the vigil was finally over, I felt a sense of accomplishment and pride. I had overcome temptation and had spent time with God in prayer. I knew that this experience would stay with me for a long time.
As I walked home, I thought about the priest's words. I realized that temptation is a part of life, but we do not have to give in to it. We can choose to be faithful to God, even when it is difficult.
I am grateful for the strength that God gave me yesterday. I know that I can face any challenge with God's help.

The End

I hope you enjoyed this short story. I believe that it is important to share our experiences with temptation and how we overcome it. It can be a source of inspiration and encouragement for others.

Thank you for reading!

No sooner was I on my way leaving the market, after buying all what I needed than a stranger came out of the blue to accuse me of stealing his manhood.
I won't say the state where this happened.
At first I didn't clearly understand what he meant because he initially said, I should return what left his body.
What looked like a funny claim to me turned serious as he started shouting and calling the attention of passers by. People started encircling us and the guy who accused me said we are going to the police station, I was like why will I follow you to the station when I didn't do anything wrong?
One of the passers by said I should just follow him if I know I am truly Innocent and since the station is not far. I had no choice but to follow them to prove my innocence ( the accuser and the passer-by) with many thoughts on my mind.
On our way I resolved to call all the important people I know that can get me out of this mess. I first dialed my dad's number and started explaining what was going on before the guy said I should cut the call that we must go to that station or else he will collect my phone.
On arriving there, and meeting two police men at the station, my accuser started laying claim of his stolen manhood story. I was called to narrate what happened and I told them I just left the market gate after purchasing all I needed from the market only to be falsely accused.
The officers asked us to write out statements. After the accuser narrated his story once more, one of the officers was laughing.
The policeman asked me what I do for a living and I told him I am a school teacher and the school where I work. He asked the accuser same question who said he is a university student and doesn't stay far from the market. He asked of both our phone numbers and also gave out his number to us. Then he asked the accuser to put his hand in his trouser to confirm if his manhood is there, the guy touched and said the manhood was there.
He then started saying that initially he didn't feel anything there that there have been cases like that in his school and that he was shocked that the thing happened to him that's why he dragged the case to the station.
One of the policemen said that he has been hearing about stealing of manhood and that people can do diabolical things for money. However, it could also be that his mind might be playing tricks on him as such he felt his private part might be missing when it was actuality still there.
The policemen said I should go since the guy has confirmed his penis is intact, there is no case and I shouldn't be annoyed that if I were in the guy's shoes I might as well do the same . They also said that it could be that it actually happened but me being there at the wrong time and being there when he felt such that he will easily take the person close by as the culprit. I felt relieved but at the same time angry for been falsely accused and for my wasted time for something as dumb as this.
When we were going outside the station, the guy who falsely accused me was dragging his feet and kept working very slowly such that I was at a far distance in the front. The passer-by that followed us was apologizing to me, that I shouldn't be angry.
Damn, I was just having different emotions. However, I thank God nothing happened to me ( I could've been mobbed you know), nothing was missing and I came back home safe and fine but annoyed and angry.
My dad who is in another state got worried when I called earlier. If something had happened to me that guy would've had the worst day of his life. The kind of people wey for come for am eh.
There were 2 things on my mind. It's either that guy did it intentionally to put me in trouble or he is delusional (superstitious) and/or actually suffering from Koro syndrome.

"How I Was Falsely Accused Of Stealing A Guy's Genitals Yesterday" by Kalatium

As I made my way to the registration office, some of my friends unexpectedly joined me, adding funny live to the process. Together, we navigated the tedious paperwork, arrangements, printing, and photocopying required for the manual registration, sharing laughter and small talk as we completed each step.

However, as we progressed, one of my friends casually mentioned that the office for the registration was located quite a distance away. I shook my head, certain that I had explored every nook and cranny of the institution. I expressed my disbelief, confidently stating that I knew the layout of the university like the back of my hand.

Nonetheless, we set off on this unprepared long journey. As we took a sharp turn to the right, I was startled to find myself facing a part of the university that I had never laid eyes on before. It seemed to stretch on endlessly, and with each step, I was astounded by the buildings and areas that were entirely new to me. I couldn't believe that I had missed such a significant section of the campus during my previous strolls through the school.

After what seemed like an eternity, we finally arrived at the registration office. The task of completing the registration was soon close to be, but at last, it was done. I returned home, exhausted from the day's events, and promptly fell asleep, only to be rudely awakened by my midnight alarm.

As I hastily recalled my day's adventure, I realized that it had been a tale worth sharing. The journey to the registration office had led

So, awakened by my midnight alarm, I set out to quickly pen down this tale, capturing the my today's experience.
Good night friends.