Mindviewers Stories

Divine was born with a rich dada on his head.

He was dreaded for many reasons, he was stronger than his age, stubborn than his age, and duller than his age mates.

Miss Patricia was his teacher ever since he started schooling until he turned 6 years old. She would teach in the school and after the close of school, she would come to his home for private lessons but she didn't see the result of her efforts.

He still came 22/23, a tied position with another classmate. Patricia knew of brilliant students getting tied for 1st, 2nd, or 3rd positions but that of Divine was divinely confusing for her.

Out of frustration one day, she sat him down and looked at him, pitying both him and herself.

"Divine, can you tell me why I will teach you in school, you, will pay attention, I will teach you at home, you will pay attention, then when it comes to the time to write or do a test, it would seem as if nothing I taught you entered your head? Abi I should use hot water to press your head?" she controlled her anger as best as she could.

"Aunty, please, it is not my fault, whatever you teach me gums to this dada on my head, it doesn't enter my original brain." He said, pleading with his eyes that she should believe him.

This continued for another year until one day she saw Divine come to school and his head had been shaved clean. She heard him tell other boys "My daddy told the barber to make it shine."

Another time, she heard him call the hairstyle Kalabolo.

She noticed he was happier more attentive and confident in class.

At the end of the third term, after collecting his report card, he ran to the school field where Miss Patricia was setting up decorations for end of year party and with a bright smile, showed her his report card.

"You see, Aunty, shebi I told you. It was the dada that was blocking my brain."

When Patricia opened the envelope and looked at his result, her jaw dropped, he came 3rd position.

"********

The crowded Idumota market was in chaos as people rushed to escape the flames engulfing the nearby stalls. Iya Oja stood amidst the chaos. It was not her stall that went down in flames with fully loaded goods. If she had one, it was an empty space where market levies are counted. Adeola, her 14-year-old maid, cowered beside her, trembling with fear. The fire outbreak was so sudden that everybody had to scamper for safety. Picking up her iPhone 13 that her son recently sent her from the US along with a few other valuables, Iya Oja fled from her seemingly empty office. Sadly, her purse was not luckily in sight at the moment. That was not too much of a problem. Adeola will fetch it even if that would cost her life.

"Iwo babalawo yi, lo gba apamọwọ mi fun mi!" She yelled at Adeola, her voice piercing through the chaos. The fire had overtaken her empty office where she ran out from and where the purse was supposed to be. Adeola hesitated, her eyes wide with terror, but Iya Oja's glare left no room for disobedience. The young girl crept towards the burning stall, her small frame trembling as she tried to lift the heavy wooden beam that pinned down the purse. Flames licked at her face, and she screamed as the wood fell, trapping her beneath its weight.

Iya Oja's face contorted in rage as she realized her purse was gone, but her anger quickly turned to concern as she saw Adeola's limp body being pulled from the wreckage. The market crowd gasped in horror as Adeola's charred and battered body was revealed. Iya Oja's eyes welled up with tears, but they were not tears of sorrow or remorse; they were tears of anger and frustration.

For seven long years, Adeola had toiled in Iya Oja's service, a slave to her whims and fancies. She had been denied the joys of childhood, the comfort of a warm bed, and the solace of a loving embrace. And now, she lay broken and burned, a victim of Iya Oja's insatiable greed and cruelty. The market crowd murmured among themselves, their voices a gentle breeze that carried the whispers of condemnation and disgust. Some dared to approach Iya Oja, but she warned them off with a fierce glare, a lioness protecting her den.

Adeola has met tens of other girls that suffered a similar fate in the hands of Iya Oja. Some were 16 years old girls that looked like 10 years due to constant heavy weight they carry that stopped their growth. When they are too weakened by hunger and useless to Iya Oja's service, they disappear without traces. Nobody has dared to ask her the way about of the little girls she successfully turned into dummies but whispers are in the wind that they alway end up in the hands of organ harvesters.

PS:

@blvck_boy
@paschaline
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@nekkybella
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@surd

Kindly read and tell me what you think. I like using my story to relate real life issues. Scenarios of this nature is happening in Idumota as we speak. Pls don't forget to like and share the story if you like it. Thanks

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

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

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

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

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

Tunde's heart was a canvas of love, painted with vibrant hues of devotion, and Tosi was the masterpiece that adorned its center. He loved her with every fiber of his being, every beat of his heart, and every whisper of his soul. When her life hung in the balance, like a delicate petal trembling in the breeze, Tunde gave her the most precious gift – his kidney. The surgery was a symphony of hope, a melody of life, and Tosi's smile bloomed like a sunrise, illuminating the world around her.

Tunde's love was a gentle brook that flowed effortlessly, nourishing Tosi's parched soul. He was the anchor that held her steady, the shelter that shielded her from life's tempests, and the warm embrace that soothed her fears. But like a fleeting dream, their love was short-lived. Barely two years after her operation, a healthier and wealthier suitor appeared on the scene, and Tosi's eyes wandered like a lost traveler in a foreign land. She forgot the sacrifices Tunde had made, the pain he had endured, and the love he had poured out like a libation.

Tunde's heart shattered like a mirror, reflecting the shards of his shattered dreams. His soul was a desolate landscape, ravaged by the storm of Tosi's abandonment. He felt like a tree that had been uprooted, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. The ache in his soul was a constant reminder of the transience of love and the cruelty of human hearts. He had given his all, only to be discarded like a worn-out shoe, left to gather dust in the corner of Tosi's memory.

Yet, even in the depths of his sorrow, Tunde's love remained pure and unwavering, a beacon of hope in the darkness. He prayed for Tosi's happiness, even as she walked away from him, leaving behind only the echoes of their love and the scar on his body that would forever remind him of the woman he loved. Tunde's story is a testament to the enduring power of true devotion, a reminder that even in the darkest depths of sorrow, the human spirit can find solace in the beauty of its own resilience.

PS:
@blvck_boy
@paschaline
@huways370
@rally
@damselbabe
@nekkybella
@sewhento
@brownshuga

Kindly read and tell me what you think. I like writing what people will like to read so suggestion or criticism will be appreciated

I want to take you all back in time to when I was in my early years, let's say 10/11. The interesting age, where the world was fun, where you can play with anything and everywhere.

Let's look past the playful part, my family is a learned one, we were rarely allowed to play after schools but during the festive seasons or long breaks, I was sent to the village along with my siblings to stay with my granny.

Life in the village is everything that home isnt, there we were free to play. Intact, there was a specific time that all neighbouring children comes out to play, it was usually lively and joyous.

Did I fail to mention that we did not need gas to cook? We used firewood and how we go about in search of these firewood is a whole new experience.

There was this massive mansion been constructed along the village square as at then, we decided to go hunt for some plank woods there. It was during this quest that we scaled a tall fence to get into its vicinity.

I was a newbie in this kind of lifestyle but I couldn't dull or else those village children would make mockery of me.
Replicated their moves and I was in.
We got enough woods, each of us with our own burden, now it was time to climb out, with a lot of tussle, I got my wood over the fencing and climbed on also.

I was seated on the fence waiting for the rest to climb up so we can get going when all of a sudden, there was a shout.
"The owner of the house is here!"
Everybody scampered, I didn't know what to do, I couldn't jump off due to the height of where I was, but I was struggling to get down when I slipped.

My head was banging when my eyes opened, I had fallen flat on the solid ground and felt pain all over.
I got up after all by the way, and the rest of the story...
I wish not to tell 😆

In the sweltering streets of Ikorodu, a father's world crumbled beneath his feet as his talented musician son was brutally snatched away by the cold hand of death. The once vibrant melodies that filled their home were now replaced with haunting whispers of accusation. The community, quick to judge, pointed fingers at the grieving father, branding him a murderer. The weight of their scorn crushed his soul, as he struggled to come to terms with the loss of his child. The memories of their laughter, their late-night conversations, and their shared passion for music now taunted him like a cruel reminder of his supposed guilt.

But fate, in its mysterious ways, slowly unraveled the truth. The son's wife, once a picture of innocence and devotion, was revealed to be the mastermind behind the heinous crime. Her deceit and betrayal cut deeper than any knife, as it emerged that she had killed her husband to conceal the shameful secret that their only son was not his. Mentioning DNA around her was the greatest offense anyone would commit against her because that for her son would be the evidence her remaining few supporters need to desert her - and perhaps, completely clear the father's name. Even so, the scars of the ordeal would still linger, a constant reminder of the darkness that humanity is capable of.

Close relatives, the very few that still cared, wandered through the desolate landscape of their hearts. The must have realized that the devil isn't the one fingers are pointed at. It was not the horned creature of myth and legend, but the one who wore a mask of love and deceived them all. Where is the goodness in masked angels?

Title: The Forgotten Key

In a small town nestled between rolling hills, there was an old, abandoned mansion rumored to be haunted. Locals whispered about its eerie past, but few dared to venture near it. One day, Sarah, a curious young girl with a penchant for adventure, decided to explore the mansion.

As she stepped through the creaky door, Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. The mansion was filled with dust-covered furniture and cobwebbed corners. Ignoring her growing unease, Sarah pressed on, determined to uncover its secrets.

In the dim light, Sarah stumbled upon a locked door. Intrigued, she searched the mansion until she found an old, rusted key hidden beneath a pile of debris. With trembling hands, she inserted the key into the lock and turned it, the door creaking open to reveal a hidden staircase leading underground.

Heart pounding, Sarah descended into the darkness, her footsteps echoing off the walls. At the bottom, she discovered a vast chamber filled with treasures long forgotten – jewels, artifacts, and ancient relics glinting in the faint light.

But amidst the riches, Sarah found something unexpected – a diary. She dusted it off and began to read, discovering the tragic tale of a young girl who had once lived in the mansion. The girl had hidden away in the underground chamber, seeking solace from a world that had abandoned her.

As Sarah read on, she realized that the girl's story mirrored her own feelings of loneliness and isolation. Moved by empathy, Sarah vowed to uncover the truth behind the girl's fate and give her the closure she deserved.

With newfound determination, Sarah embarked on a quest to uncover the mystery of the forgotten key and the girl it once belonged to. And in doing so, she found not only answers but also a sense of belonging she had long been searching for.

Earlier this evening, I decided to attend a midnight prayer. It had been a long day, and I was struggling to stay awake as the clock ticked closer to midnight. I found it hard to muster the strength to concentrate. I kept dozing off and losing focus. It was a battle to keep my eyes open.

However, at one point, something surreal happened. A strange sensation washed over me, and I felt the overwhelming presence of God. Suddenly, I was filled with a newfound energy and vibrancy. It was as if a surge of divine power had awakened my spirit.

Buoyed by this spiritual awakening, I managed to stay alert and attentive throughout the prayers until about 12:15. It was then that I realized it was almost 1 am, and I hadn't yet completed my ritual of publishing a short story version on mindviewers.

So, I sought quick permission and here I am, writing this story. Thankful for that powerful moment during the midnight prayer that reinvigorated my spirit and allowed me to fulfill my commitment.

During my early teens, my family and I had a familiar path that we often followed, lined with a towering breadfruit tree. The tree's sprawling branches cast shade over a considerable stretch of the path, and it was common knowledge that people would always hurry through this part of the route to avoid the peril of a breadfruit falling on them.

Over time, countless tales had circulated about unsuspecting individuals getting struck by falling breadfruits, resulting in serious injuries. Despite this, on one particular day, my family and I decided that we would not succumb to fear. "Why should we run today when we never had a breadfruit fall on us before?" we reasoned.

As we ventured down the narrow path, we watched another person take a leisurely stroll beneath the breadfruit tree and felt a surge of anxiety and unease. Moments later, a loud crash reverberated through the air, and we all turned to see a breadfruit plummet to the ground. Terrified, we screamed and sprinted in every direction.

In the aftermath, as we caught our breath, we pondered the narrow escape. "What if we had merely walked as we had planned?" we mused. It was a valuable lesson learned: sometimes, heeding warnings and being cautious is more than just an old superstition.

When I was just a kid with a head full of innocent dreams, I decided to pour my heart out in a letter to my crush. I couldn't contain the butterflies fluttering in my stomach as I carefully crafted each word, expressing how much I adored his hair, his sparkling eyes, and the way he always read the textbook before the class.

I slipped the letter into his locker at school, hoping he would read it and feel the same way I did. In my little world, I believed that love was simple and pure, and I promised to always cherish and adore him, no matter what.

Days passed, and I anxiously waited for a response, my mind dancing with fantasies of us holding hands and sharing secrets under the shade of a tree. Then, one afternoon, a letter arrived in my mailbox. I tore it open, only to find my own words staring back at me.

Confusion turned to horror as I realized that my crush had returned the letter, but it wasn't in his hands—it was in my mom's. She stood before me, her eyes blazing with anger, as she waved the letter in front of my face.

In her eyes, my innocent declaration of love was nothing but foolishness, and she saw fit to punish me for it. Tears streamed down my cheeks as she scolded me for my childish behavior, her disappointment crushing my fragile heart into a million pieces.

I lay in bed that night, nursing both physical and emotional wounds, I wonder if love was meant to be so painful. But deep down, in the depths of my innocent soul, I clung to the hope that someday, someone would cherish my love as much as I cherished theirs, without judgment or condemnation.

Once there was a very wealthy man who was suffering from severe eye pain.He consulted many doctors and try their treatment but nothing helped.Even after consuming so many drugs to fix his eyes he still suffered from pain and that and that pain in eye persisted more than before.

At last,he heard about a monk who was famous for being an expert in treating such problems.He went to him and told him about his problem

Monk understood his problem and said that, "You should concentrate only on green colors and try not to let your eyes fall on any other colors. "
Man finds this prescription strange but he was despirate to find cure and decided to try it.
Wealthy man called for group of painters and purchased loads of green paint and directed that every object his eye was likely to fall to be painted green just as the monk had directed.

Just in few days everything around that man was in green. Wealthy man made sure that nothing around would in any other color.

After some days, monk came to visit wealthy man, millionaire servant ran with bucket of green paint and poured it all over him.

Monk asked servants reason for this. Servant replied, “You were wearing saffron and we can’t let our master see any other color than green..”

Hearing this monk laughed and said, “If only.. you had purchased a pair of green colored glasses for him to wear.. worth just few dollars..
You could have saved all these walls, articles and also would have been able to save a large amount of his fortune.. You cannot paint the world green.”

Moral:
It is foolish to shape/ Change the world, Let’s Shape ourselves first.. Let us change our vision and the world will appear accordingly

Pretty maid (episode 3)
Sandra:his very rude and dangerous, you better not go there
Tina: don't worry (took the food and headed to davin's room)
Davin:who is there
Tina: it's your new maid.i brought your food
Davin:I thought I told your colleague to take the food away
Tina:sir you need to eat, I'm coming in (opened the door and kept the food for him)
Davin: how dare you come in without me telling you to come in
Tina:(laughs) pardon me, but u need to eat your food
Davin: are you stupid? will you take this food away before I pour my anger on you
Tina: sorry but I can't (left)
Davin:damn it! this girl get guts.she dares to disobey me but isn't she cute?omg I must get this girl and make her pay for disobeying me
Davin treats everyone in the company so bad, his presence terrifies everyone and he talks to everyone anyhow he likes
Ryan:davin this is getting out of hand,I don't like the way you treat everyone in this company, it's not fair
Davin: will you shut up! what do you even know
Ryan:I don't blame you, don't forget I'm your senior brother
Davin: senior brother my foot
Ryan: you are acting this way and expect this company to be handed over to you
Davin: this company will be mine soon believe it or leave it
Ryan:we shall see about that
Davin: it's either I kill you or you kill me (left and banged his office door)
Tina was washing the plates in the kitchen and Ryan came in
Ryan:hey beauty,how are you doing
Tina: I'm fine sir
Ryan: after washing the plates get some coffee in my room
Tina: okay sir
Ryan: I'm waiting (left the kitchen)
Minutes later Tina came in with the coffee
Tina:sir here's the coffee
Ryan: thanks, please sit we need to talk
Tina: I'm just an ordinary maid.i shouldn't sit in your room
Ryan: just sit
Tina:(sat down) what do you want to talk to me about
Ryan:I think I like you
Tina:(laughs) you are not serious,a whole rich guy like you that have seen many pretty rich girls will never like an ordinary maid like me
Ryan: I'm serious
Tina: I'm off (left)
NB:to be continue

18:05,- The clock strikes as I had just returned from a three miles walk to the outskirt of the
town. I trudge to the miserable inn I had procured for the last three days. You could tell that I
am tired from the weary look on my face that I wish I could have someone that would do
things for me at that very moment.
I laid my back on the hard bed with a squeaking sound emanating from the wood and lumpy
with sheets that are stained. My eyes surveyed the small room filled with dust, cobwebs in
the corners, and a musty smell in the air. The rooms here are not properly tidied after being
used. The window is small and old, and it seems like it is almost detached from the walls.
There is a small fan hanging from the ceiling and a small lightbulb covered with dust casting
a yellow sickly light.
I began to count the ceilings minutes passed after taking a long gaze at a wall gecko who
attached his claws to the wall facing me. My mind flashed back to the misty and cold
morning. I had earlier taken it upon myself to look out for an apartment on the outskirts of
Grandville. I hurriedly took my bath in a small bathroom littered with a lot of sponges and
sachets of soaps locked at the end of the spot where water flush out to the dug spot at the
back of the inn.
Having dressed for my adventure, I passed by a young girl in the passage putting out
candles that were light the previous night. She gave me a lustful smile as I walked down the
path, but I wasn't in for that. I could still feel a slight headache on the right side of my
forehead, it seems like I had received a punch from a pro boxer. Oh! Well, I took a lot of
shots of beer the night before and I could not remember how I managed to find my way back
to the room.
A light-skinned chauffeur was standing right behind his car. He looks so calm and one would
detect that he is a responsible man from his mode of dressing. He is tall and well dressed,
with a neat appearance. I waved at him- his car looks so neat that I would say it attracted me
and which prompted me to choose him among all, - and I moved closer to him. He wore a
warm smile on his face and this signals a sense of duty and responsibility.
'Taxi? ' I said.
'Yes, it is. ' it was the answer.
'I had just moved to this town and I have done myself the honor of lodging in an inn. I
intended to stay for a week or more before, but I am not comfortable with the atmosphere.
Do you know of any available apartments up for rent? ' I asked with a submissive voice.
'Grandville is my town, sir, ' he paused and took a glance at my face with a smile to ease me.
' I have been to almost all parts of the town, it would be my pleasure to drive you anywhere. '
His response was everything I could wish for at that very moment. It felt like a heart-warm message brought by an angel.
He slowly opened the door and gestured that I should get in. He rolled down the windows
and at the same time reach to lock the doors. He inquired whether I would love to listen to
some country songs.
'Sure, ' I replied, and deep down within me, I rarely listen to country songs. I could not have
objected because of his calm manner of approaching me.
I sat in the back seat watching the world go by as the car moves down the road. I saw people
talking on their phones and women offering their wares at the pedestrian for sale. Cars and
bikes move along the road, honking their horns and whizzing past. I could feel the gentle
vibrations of the car as it roll along. I had a feeling of calmness and I was lost between sleep
and being awake.
The car severed into a pothole and I came out of my subconsciousness. We have been on
the road for the last fifteen minutes and probably I have lost track of time.
We are now on the outskirts of the town. The sky is clear here and filled with fluffy white
clouds. The trees along the sloppy road are lofty and green, and the scent of fresh grass
with heavy dew filled the air. The sound of the car engine mixed with the country song to
create a soothing symphony. The chauffeur took a turn and the car swayed gently as it went
through the bend. I have never felt so relaxed like this in months.

To be continued...

I woke up to the sound of a sudden lightning strike, followed by a deafening thud coming from behind our house. I rushed outside, and there it was: a massive tree had fallen, its trunk hollowed out by honey bees that had made their home there for months. We had been anticipating the tree's fall, but we never expected it to be brought down by lightning.

The next morning, I walked outside to find my brother standing near the fallen tree, a jar of honey in his hands. He was dressed in a mishmash of clothes, looking almost like a colorful masquerade. I couldn't help but wonder about his strange appearance. Ignoring my mom's warnings, I dashed toward the fallen tree, only to be met with a searing pain as a bee stung me right on the nose. It was a shock unlike anything I'd ever felt before. My nose felt like it was swelling and pulsating, and tears welled up in my eyes as I sprinted back to the house and collapsed on the ground. My mom rushed over, soothing the sting with palm oil as I silently sobbed.

As I lay there, nursing my throbbing nose, I realized that this was my first bee sting, an unforgettable lesson learned.

Heloise and Ghal ride deeper into the forest, still feeling uneasy after their encounter with Theron.
As they move forward, the trees seem to close in around them, making them feel trapped. They exchange worried looks, staying alert for any signs of danger lurking nearby.

Suddenly, they hear shouting and the clashing of metal in the distance. Without hesitation, they rush towards the noise, determined to help whoever is in trouble.
They find a group of bandits attacking a lone traveler. Heloise and Ghal jump into action, fighting off the bandits with all their might.

The bandits are caught off guard by their sudden attack, and Heloise and Ghal manage to defeat them, driving them away into the shadows of the forest.
After the battle, the grateful traveler approaches them, thanking them for saving their life. Heloise and Ghal exchange tired smiles, relieved that they were able to help.

Emerging from the thick forest, Heloise and Ghal were greeted by a stunning sight: the kingdom of Azhi, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The city spread out before them, its tall buildings and busy streets showing off its grandeur.
As they entered the city gates, they were met with a lively scene. Market stalls were filled with colorful spices and fabrics, while musicians played lively tunes on the streets. There was an energy in the air that made everything feel alive.

Heloise and Ghal couldn't help but be impressed by the beauty and culture of the kingdom as they walked through its streets. They admired the detailed designs on the buildings and the colorful paintings that told stories of the kingdom's past.

They tried the local food, enjoying the spicy dishes and sweet treats that filled the air with delicious smells. They watched as dancers performed traditional dances in the town square, moving gracefully to the music.

But it wasn't just the sights and sounds that captured their attention; it was the kindness and friendliness of the people of Azhi. Everywhere they went, they were welcomed with smiles and open arms, treated like honored guests in King Sun's kingdom.

to be continued...

Heading to pick up my laptop from the repair shop was like going on a mission. I'd been without it for days, and I couldn't wait to have it back. I was pumped to catch up on work and chat with my friends online. It was going to be awesome.

But as I walked down the street, I noticed some sketchy-looking people hanging around. They seemed like trouble, and I got this uneasy feeling in my gut. I clutched my bag tighter, feeling a bit nervous.

Then, one of them stepped in front of me with a mean grin. He demanded I give them my stuff. My heart raced as I realized they were trying to rob me!

I tried to walk past them, but they surrounded me, blocking my way. I knew they wanted my laptop with everything in it, and I wasn't about to let them take it.

So, I swung my bag at one of them and took off running. They chased after me through the streets, but I was determined to keep my laptop safe.

Finally, I made it to the repair shop, out of breath but relieved. I grabbed my laptop and walked away, feeling grateful to have escaped without any harm. It was like something out of a movie, but I was just glad to have my laptop back in my hands.

I went to Onitsha on a hot, sunny morning, ready to install some light bulbs in a fancy two-story house. The journey was supposed to be smooth, but it wasn't. The roads were rough, full of bumps and holes, and the traffic was crazy tight.

Getting bulbs in the market was another headache. It was packed with stalls, people shouting prices, and everyone trying to get a deal. It felt like being lost in a jungle.

After ages, I finally got the bulbs and made it to the client's house. It was impressive, standing alive and proud despite the chaos of the city. But the job wasn't a piece of cake. Trust me, I came there prepared for wiring and installation, so no dulling.

Despite the mess, I stuck with it. Slowly, the house started lighting up, and it felt good to see it come to life. Finishing up, I felt proud. Despite the rough journey and market madness, I got the job done. At the end of the day , I was happy, knowing I'd made someone's home a bit brighter.

Chikamso had been eyeing the tempting, luscious coconuts on the towering tree near the path to his school for a long time. Every day, as he passed by, he could feel his craving for the succulent fruits grow stronger. The coconuts seemed to call out to him, appearing like a prize waiting to be claimed.

One fateful day, after school, Chikamso decided it was time to seize the opportunity. He had been pondering over the idea for a while, and today, his desire to taste the fleshy, fruity coconuts won over his hesitation. He made a sly plan to gather a few of the coconuts for himself before anyone arrived to claim ownership.

With determination burning in his heart, Chikamso approached the tree as his heart raced with excitement. With skill and a bit of fearlessness, he ascended the heights of the coconut tree, driven by the promise of the delicious fruits. When he reached the top, his eyes widened with amazement at the size and lushness of the coconuts, hanging like treasures waiting to be discovered.

He carefully plucked a few of the ripe coconuts and was savoring the prospect of tasting them. However, in the midst of his delight, an unexpected interruption occurred - the owner of the tree appeared, catching Chikamso in the act. The owner stood there, stunned to find a young boy perched in his prized coconut tree.

Chikamso's heart sank as he felt an impending sense of guilt and fear of the consequences. He was initially tongue-tied, feeling trapped and unsure of how to explain himself to the owner. However, the owner, after his initial surprise, managed to understand Chikamso's temptation, and after some negotiations and explanations, he allowed Chikamso to pick one coconut as a gracious compromise.

Chikamso descended the tree, grateful for the owner's understanding and generosity. With one ripe, juicy coconut in hand, he made his way home, realizing that despite the unexpected turn of events, he had managed to bring home a small portion of the abundance he had sought