Mindviewers Stories

I remember my first order on Jumia. I was nervous because I had never used the app before. I was afraid I might lose my money if something went wrong.
The tension was so high, that I delayed entering the details required as soon as they appeared.

When I added my card details, my heart beat fast. I was worried about making a mistake or the app not working.

But I finished the order and got a confirmation number. Now I just have to wait for my appliance to arrive on the delivery date.

I'm excited but still a little worried. I keep checking my email and the app to see if everything is okay. I hope my order arrives safely and that I don't have any problems.

I know you'll all laugh at me, but this doesn't make me less of a city girl.
I it's just my first time and that's it and additionally, what I ordered wasn't an appliance of cheap prices, so I had every reason to be unsettled.

I was determined to get in on the Monorix airdrop, but the network was being painfully slow. I had to pay a gas fee to secure my spot, and I was getting anxious. I sent the payment to @applecoral for the Trons I needed, but as the minutes ticked by, I started to worry.

"Where is it?" I thought to myself. "@applecoral said he already transferred it, but it's not showing up in my wallet!"

I began to imagine the worst case scenario where my payment get lost in cyberspace, my chance at the airdrop slipping away. I felt my heart racing as I repeatedly refreshed my wallet, wishing the Trons to appear.

But then, just as I was about to give up hope, they finally showed up! 10 long minutes had passed, but my relief was to dramatic that I stood on my bed for some time.

In the end, I was able to exchange the Trons for the airdrop, and all was well. I couldn't help but laugh at the drama I had put myself through. "Note to self," I thought, "be patient when dealing with slow network for this Nigeria.

@applecoral you will pay me for adding you in my story oo, but before we negotiate the price, leave a like first.

As I lay in bed after 1 a.m., my mind was racing. Tomorrow was our big exam on gastrointestinal physiology, and I couldn't sleep.
The tension was high, I once read the textbook a week before, but now everything had become so different, and here I was, stressed about my studies.

The course was supposed to be easy, but our round-bellied lecturer, made it hard. He talked too fast, covering anatomy, nerve innervation, control centers, and postganglionic fibers. I felt lost trying to keep up.

I had been studying hard today and finally reached the last chapter, thinking I was almost done. Then, out of nowhere, we received a fresh info with a new PDF to read.

I need to stay focused. I couldn’t let the man's complicated lectures overwhelm me. I have decided to skim through the new PDF, highlighting the most important points. If I concentrated on the main ideas, I might do well on the exam.
Good night.

So today, I finally got the chance to dive into the story session that I had always visited. A little escape into the world of creativity and imagination. Yet, something was different this time. As I scrolled through the recent entries, I noticed that the story session had been pouring with activity over the last couple of days, there was more good stories too. I couldn’t help but wonder, “Oh, what happened?”

Curiosity pulled me toward the opinion segment of the website. That’s when I stumbled upon a post by the admin, something about “paying Order 3.” I had no idea what that meant, but it intrigued my mind. I couldn't quite remember how I had come across that article again, but the thought lingered with me. Maybe I should give this a shot.

So here I am, sitting down to write my story. There’s a fright in my chest, who knows if people will like my story?. I often found inspiration in the simplest of things, and today was no different. As I penned my thoughts onto the screen, I felt a stirring belief that my story could resonate with someone out there. If I shared my narratives, who knows? Maybe they would make an impact or at the very least, spark a smile.

I really want this to work. I want people to connect with my story, to feel something as they read it. So I'm reaching out, hoping that you, dear readers, will like what I write. It's a small wish, but it's significant for me. Here’s to putting my thoughts into words and sharing them with the world. Let’s see where this journey takes us!

Growing up, I had always prided myself on being the fastest runner in our neighborhood, a title I had earned through countless races against my friends, siblings, and cousins. Most evenings, we would gather in the yard, racing until the sun dipped below the horizon. I was the champion, always crossing the finish line first, my friends running behind me. I was an upcoming Usain Bolt.

However, this time was different. It was duribg inter-house competition for my SS2 class, a much bigger event that included not just my classmates but older students from SS3 set and even some from lower classes. I had talked about the big game to friends, boasting to my family about my outstanding running capabilities and how I was sure I’d bring home the trophy. I could already visualize my moment of glory, holding that trophy high above my head while my friends cheered me on.

The day of the race arrived, and as I warmed up, I felt a blend of confidence and nervous energy. I practiced with my team, strategizing how we could outpace our rivals. But as the test runs progressed, I quickly realized that things might not go as smoothly as I had imagined.

During one of our practice laps, we lined up, ready to take off. As the whistle blew, I dashed forward, ready to leave everyone in my dust. Yet, within moments, the two boys in front of me, a shorter one with surprising speed and one slim kid whose long legs seemed to propel him forward, were already miles ahead. I pushed harder, but no matter how fast I ran, they continued to widen the gap.

With every step, disappointment washed over me. I had underestimated both of them, especially the shorter boy, who was ahead as if he were a true athlete. As I watched them pull further away, the ease with which they ran remained a reminder of my overconfidence.

“Was I really that fast?” I thought, the reality settling in. I felt embarrassed and frustrated; my dreams of winning that trophy was gone in the air.
I gave up instantly on partaking in the running competition any longer and joined long jump team.

Sometimes I use to wonder what's going on with our fellow men, this story is all about me and this is how it's all happened

So one day I message one of my guy with my real account on Facebook requesting for some cash to run my school stuff, after will pay back the money. As we all knew this guy was a rich guy from a rich home.
He insisted that he has no cash to offer me at the moment
I decided to open a female Account and be chatting with this same of my guy requesting cash that I will pay back later, this guy with no time send me 50k and ask me not to pay back that he only want to see thinking he's chatting with a girl
He starting boasting mouth that he's so rich, he can give me anything I want, not knowing that is me cos I use fake female Account to chat him. I was so shocked to see him that is my best friend doing this to his fellow guys, the same guy I ask for money and he said he said he has no cash

Not only him, this has been happening everywhere to our guys which make me to come to conclusions and ask myself this
Wetin man do man ???

Today, I felt a need to make music again after I came across one of my old phone revirdings and felt inspired to sing. It had been six months since I listened to one of my records, but today I did.

I grabbed my SD card, hoping to find the beat I needed. I looked through my phone and files, searching for that familiar sound. I checked my flash drive, too, but no luck. I started to feel frustrated as I realized the beat I wanted seemed to have disappeared.

I didn’t want to give up, so I remembered where I had first found the song online. I rushed to my laptop and began searching the internet, retracing my steps, but everything led to a dead end. It was confusing and made me angry. How could something I once had be so hard to find now?

Remembering all the music I had created. It was frustrating to see how little things can slip away just when you think you have them.

Shaa, I had to accept that today might not be the day to sing. It hurt to realize this, especially since I had been so excited to create.

I remember the day like yesterday or just some few seconds ago, it all started as a normal day for me though not 100% normal for I had landed in Nairobi just the previous day for my Visa application.It was on a Tuesday June of this year,and I remember I'm my country we had started anti finance bill that ended up become an anti government protest.
I had never participate in any protest before and I wasn't planning to on this fatefully day,I had gone to town to try my luck on the Visa application,I met very many young and energetic youths chanting anti-government slogans,it was so hyped and fun that I found myself abandoning my main cause of the day,we match towards the CBD encouraging each other to go to Parliament where our members of Parliament were busy passing the same bill that we were on the street opposing.
The anti riot police we surely busy too in that day most if not all of us were all cover with water Cannons and the Air was full of teargas, gunshots every corner of the town could be heard but that never stopped us ,we were in the largest and strongest number possible most of didn't know each other but we made good right there, before even knowing it I found myself inside the Kenya's Parliament, dinning on the expensive buffet prepared specific for our law makers, I don't even know how we made it out alive cause some of us didn't see the next day,,,, I'll sure never forget that day

This happened some years back when I was working for somebody as a POS attendant. I had written JAMB and was waiting for admission, so I decided to find myself a work, while waiting for admission. My boss had told me that the last two people that worked for him ran away with some of his money within two weeks of working for him. He accepted that I work for him because one of his friends who knows me, vouched for me.

Within one week after I resumed work, my boss was very pleased with how I was able to give efficient and accurate of account of money and there was never a shortage. This amazed him so much because the other people that worked for him always had shortage and little amount of money always went missing. I was happy too that everything was going well.

One day, when I went to work, my boss gave me the sum of 20k to hold, just in case anyone comes to withdraw money from the POS business, while he goes to the bank to withdraw money. He returned from the bank shortly after, made account of the money he withdrew so that it can be used to start the POS business, and later left. He forgot about the 20k he had given to me in the morning.

Later in the evening when we were about closing for the day, I handed the 20k to him and reminded him about it, he looked at me in astonishment. He was very surprised that I returned the money, I was happy I had done something good. When I finally had admission, my boss paid my acceptance fee, gave me some of his textbooks that is related to the course I was reading and gave me some amount of money too, out of kindness because of how truthful and faithful I had been while working for him. He used to call me during my university education and will send me some money, we had become good friends, one to be trusted and recommended for trust. The man’s house is like my second home and I am his children’s lesson teacher, doing good feels good and gives good rewards.

I lived with my aging mother, Ngozi.

My father had died when I was young, and my mother raised me alone, working tirelessly to make sure we had enough to get by. But as the years went by, life became increasingly difficult.

We had little to eat, and my dreams of escaping poverty seemed further out of reach.

One day, my mother’s friend Ifeoma visited, her arms filled with gifts.

"Ngozi, you should consider joining us," she urged my mother. "This is how I’ve managed to buy these things and secure a future for my children."

My mother’s eyes were filled with a mix of envy and desperation. "But what do they want in return?, Hope they won't come after my head someday" she asked, clearly apprehensive.

"No never, we don't do human Sacrifice"

"It's just a little rîtual" Ifeoma replied.

"A small price for such great rewards. You and Chukwudi can have everything you’ve ever dreamed of."

That night, I noticed my mother lying awake, clearly troubled. The next morning, she sat me down, her voice trembling.

"Chukwudi, there’s a way for us to escape this poverty. It involves joining a certain group that can make all our dreams come true."

I looked at her, sensing her desperation.

"What kind of group, Mama?"

"It is called the group of affluence," she admitted, tears welling in her eyes. "They require a little rîtual but not a human Sacrifice, but they promise riches and a secure future. I want you to have a better life, my son."

I was stunned. "Mama, this sounds dangerous. We don’t need their wealth if it comes at such a high cost."

My mother’s eyes were filled with sorrow. " Yes I understand but I doesn't, i just want to ensure you’re taken care of, even after I’m gone. Please, Chukwudi, consider it."

Reluctantly, driven by my love for my mother and the promise of a better life, I agreed. That night, we were led to a secluded location where the cult conducted its rituals. The air was thick with incense, and the atmosphere was heavy with foreboding.

Emeka, the cult leader, greeted us with a chilling smile. "Welcome, Chukwudi. Are you ready to make the sacrifice for wealth and fame?"

I nodded, though fear gripped my heart. "What do I have to do?"

Emeka’s smile widened. "The final sacrifice requires the head of someone you love dearly. Your mother's head, she must be buried alive."

I recoiled in horror. "No! I can’t do that!"

Emeka's eyes hardened. "It's either her life or yours. Choose wisely."

"No I rather dîe than do such, I can't burry my mother alive, no I can't", I thundered.

"Shut up chukwudi, you will do it", my mother echoed from a distance.

"Mother, no I can't watch you buried alive, no", I said still in shock

My mother stepped forward, her face a mask of sorrow. "Chukwudi, if this is the price for your future, then so be it. I love you, my son."

I was dumbfounded.

My heart shattered, but I knew there was no other way out. With trembling hands and a heavy heart, I performed the ritual, sealing my fate and sacrificing my mother.

Now, years later, I sit alone in my luxurious mansion, surrounded by wealth and fame. Yet, none of it brings me joy. I reflect on the price I paid and the emptiness that wealth cannot fill.

I share my story with a heavy heart. "I thought I was securing a future for myself and my mother. But now, I realize I traded something priceless for fleeting riches. My mother isn’t here to enjoy this wealth with me, and every day, I’m haunted by the choice I made."

Tears stream down my face as I look at a picture of my mother.

"In the end, the riches mean nothing without the ones we love. I would give it all away to have my mother back. Let my story be a warning: no amount of wealth is worth losing the people who truly matter."

My tale serves as a stark reminder of the cost of desperation and the devastating consequences of sacrificing love for material gain.

Please share your thoughts on this story

Was the sacrifice worth it.

Can you offer yourself for the future of your child, just like ngozi did?

A lesson everyone needs to learn, no rîtual is little and no amount of wealth is worth losing those you love, all comes with a grievous consequences

Please share this story 🥺🙏

At about 5:00pm on Tuesday evening of August 6, 2024.
I witnessed an accident that happened in front of my office at Epe-Lagos.
A young lad and a lady was riding thier ladies bike motorcycle without helmet. Suddenly a school bus that was conveying church members to camp ran into them.
The victims were lying half dead...thier heads and some other part of their body was seriously dislocated...the Nigeria police and some local vigilante group were all present at the scene of the accident.
The yellow school bus drove off immediately and didn't stop due to fear of the security forces present at the scene.
After about an hour of rescuing the victims and taking them to clinic for first aid, the local vigilante group decided to chase the yellow school bus/why the Nigeria police left the scene to continue thier #50 checkpoint collection in another area.
Luckily, the vigilante group arrested the yellow school bus and brought it back to their yard.

During my secondary school days, I attended a community secondary school, and it was located in an interior village in my state. Most people didn’t take education seriously over there, they just attended the school because their parents asked them to. You will see all kinds of behaviors from students that think and believe differently.

My first time in school was very frightening; a student stabbed his classmate with scissors, right in his eyes, and that was the first time in my life, that I saw blood gushing out of a human being like tap water. People using planks to fight themselves, and you won’t actually believe that I also got to see a student with a gun, the school was not that conducive when it comes to learning and security. I was very young back then and was really terrified of those things.

There’s a time that I went to urinate close to a bush during break time, I met a senior student there that was smoking, his eyes were literally red. After I finished urinating, he told me to come closer to where he was and I did, he stretched out the cigarette to me, and told me to join him. I refused, and when he wanted to use force, I ran back to my class without wasting anymore time. I bet he didn’t know me, otherwise he would have looked for me later on.

90% of my classmates and other students that I knew were either into drinking, smoking, cultism or worse, it was very hard finding a decent friend, so I never had any. Some of them didn’t write the final exams because of the mess they had landed themselves; they faced situations like unwanted pregnancy, imprisonment, and expulsion. Some had ruined their life with the type of friends they kept and the activities they got involved with, that even after secondary school, they can’t move on from those things.

The amusing thing is that I never felt like joining them or being a part of any of those things, because my parents always made it a routine and consistent thing to tell my siblings and I, about those things and their consequences. I feared the consequences more, so I never dared to get myself involved.

It was very lately in the evening, at around 7:00pm, I wanted to go and dispose my refuse bin with my elder sister. The waste dump site is a bush track that is always very dark at night, I thought of how needful a flashlight will be to us regarding the fact that it was late already. But she disagreed by saying that it might not be safe to go with any item, so that we won’t be robbed, we agreed and went without any flashlight.

My sister and I were having a discussion while walking down the waste dump site bush track, the moon was visible, so at least we could see ourselves and have a dim sight of things around us. We would have gone earlier to dispose the waste, but we were just too lazy to do that during the day time and we didn’t want to keep the waste any longer since it was already stinking.

We were almost close to the dump site when my sister spotted something moving right in front of us, upon close inspection, my sister realized it is a snake, a huge one, and it was moving towards us, I don’t know if the snake could not see us or something. My sister and I have this one thing in common; we hate the sight of snakes and cannot stand the sight of it.

Without any hesitation or further delay, we threw away the refuse, turned back and took to our heels, we ran like never before. I lost the left leg of my shoes while running, I could not stop to pick it up, a new shoe that is barely two weeks old. We ran till we were home and regretted going at the hour of the night to dispose refuse and without flashlight. I went back the next morning to look for my shoes but could not find it, hot tears boiled in my eyes. We never went to that road in the night again, and conscience of the fact that flashlight is needed wherever it is dark.

‘One morning, I woke up to find my neighbor's children drinking garri with salt in the compound.
They saw me and greeted me.
"Uncle good morning."
The last born shouted. "Uncle come and eat."
Playfully I walked to them. "What are you eating?"
"Gmax." The firstborn replied.
The rest of the children laughed.
"You mean Garri?"
"Uncle this is not garri, it is GMax. A kind of snack."
I chuckled. I told them to bring me a spoon let me join them. They raised their head and looked at me. They were shocked. The second born touched the last born and said. "Go and bring spoon for Uncle. Uncle wants to eat GMax snacks."
The boy ran in and returned with a spoon.
As I took a spoon, that was when I realized the Garri was not with Sugar but with salt. The children started laughing. I paused for a while and swallowed.
"Uncle, so you use to eat GMax snacks too." The last born asked. I nodded my head. I told him I am a professional in Gmax garri. Their mother who heard the laughter came out of the room and saw me.
She was smiling. "Uncle, you seff dey drink garri."
I told her I decided to join my younger brothers to eat.
She smiled. "Eya. Today wey we no get better food to cook except garri, na that time you come chop."
I chuckled. "Madam, God know say na my favourite food na im make He make me see am to chop today."
The last born laughed.
"Uncle like Gmax o."
I told her that after eating, I and my younger brothers(her children) would go out and buy noodles for breakfast. She laughed. The boys were excited. They began to rush the garri so that it would finish quickly.
When we were done drinking Garri, I took the boys out and I bought a carton of noodles for them.
When the mother saw her children carrying a carton into the house, she became emotional.
She said to me. "Uncle, this is the first time I will have anything in a carton in my house. See how God take bless her children." I handed her money that would be enough to cook two pots of soup for the week.
The first child held my hands and said.
"Uncle, Thank you."
He beckoned on the brothers to come say thank you.
The last child ran and embraced me. Then he said.
"Uncle... Uncle... In the afternoon you will come and eat GMax with us again ba. We would put sugar inside for you." I tried hard to hold back my tears.
Before you look down on that meal God has provided you to eat, remember that there are people who do not have up to that standard. Be grateful and contented.’

This evening, i was so weak to cook and even if i decided to cook, I knew that i would be buying foodstuffs which are costly now and my budget can't cover, so I decided to get already made food at a nearby restaurant.

As I headed back from the nearby restaurant with my hot takeout, the tasty smell filled the air. My stomach grumbled, and I couldn't wait to eat. The evening air felt nice, and I enjoyed the cool breeze against my skin as I walked. The security groups were already mounting roadblocks on the road sides and the road was busy as people made their way to their home, I guess.

Ahead of me, I saw a guy walking at a relaxed pace. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, but he looked friendly. I kept my distance, respecting the space between us, as we both walked along the sidewalk as strangers.

Suddenly, I saw him take out a few 200 Naira notes. He looked surprised and said something I couldn't hear. Without really thinking, I called out, “Oh, it looks like you’re out of cash! Money really doesn’t mean much during times like this!”

To my surprise, he turned around and smiled. “You could say that!” he replied, laughing. His friendly tone made me feel more at ease. We started talking, and soon we were both walking along the same path, laughing and sharing stories.

I found out he was studying engineering at a nearby university and living just a few streets away from me. It was amazing to think we had lived so close without knowing each other.
I cannot say that we are friends already, but the next time we meet each other, it won't be as strangers.

my phone rang. The caller ID showed an unfamiliar number, but I answered it anyway. On the other end, a friendly voice introduced himself as a parish priest. I was surprised; I hadn't spoken to a priest in years, let alone one who was calling me out of the blue.

He went on to explain that he was reaching out about a grant application I had filled out three years ago. It seemed odd that they still had my information after all this time.
Maybe this was the good news I had been waiting for all this time. He told me that the grant was now active and that he wanted to send me some contact numbers to follow up.

I was puzzled and, honestly, a little hopeful. Maybe this was a blessing finally coming to fulfilment. The priest gave me a couple of phone numbers and encouraged me to reach out to them. With a renewed sense of optimism, I decided to give them a call.

After a few rings, a voice on the other end answered. I explained who I was and mentioned the call I received from the priest. They seemed friendly enough and quickly expressed that I had missed a seminar the previous week. I hadn’t even known about it; life had gotten in the way, as it often does. They began discussing the details of the grant, and I felt my excitement building up, as I imagined what I could do with the funds.

But then, as the conversation continued, I started to pick up on certain hints in their tone. I found myself feeling a bit uneasy. They suddenly mentioned that in order to proceed with the grant process, I had to send a payment of 30,000 Naira. My heart sank immediately. Up until then, I had genuinely believed this was a legitimate opportunity, but now?
I just hung up thinking about how many people these deceitful people were going to scsm with their well thought up tactics.
Just be careful out there all of you, and please like my story.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. To my shock, I noticed a cluster of pimples had appeared on my face. I stood there for a moment, surprised and a bit worried, as I stares closer on the unwelcome spots that seemed to have taken over my once-clear skin.

As I paused to think about what could have caused this sudden outbreak, a few possible reasons came to mind: I hadn’t been exercising as much as I used to. My workout routine had evaporated to almost nothing, and I knew that my body was storing things that could have gone from sweating under my skin.
Another was my diet. Lately, I had been indulging in more oily foods, fries, and those delightful fried snacks that were just too hard to resist. And as if that wasn't enough, it had been ages since I’d eaten any oranges. I loved their slapping sweetness, but somehow, they had been pushed to the back of my budget and my mind.

I want to take action, so I decided that I needed to get rid of these pimples and regain my clear complexion. My first step is to stock up on oranges.

I also resolved to cut down on the oily foods. Stepping away from deep-fried indulgences.wouldn’t be easy, and I knew I couldn’t do it overnight,

🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Mrs. Ngozi, a devout Christian, lived alone in a small apartment. One day, while cooking
dinner, her kitchen caught fire. Panicked, she
called 911, but the fire department was
delayed due to heavy traffic.

As the fire spread, Mrs. Ngozi remembered a wise saying: "When you can't call a man, call God." She dropped to her knees and prayed
fervently, asking God to save her home.

Just then, a strong gust of wind blew through the open window, extinguishing the flames. The fire department arrived shortly, amazed to find the fire out.

As they investigated, they discovered a
surprising fact: the wind that put out the fire
came from an unusual direction, and there
were no windows or doors open on that side of the building.

Mrs. Ngozi smiled, knowing God had
answered her prayer. The firefighters left with a newfound respect for the power of prayer.

From that day on, Mrs. Ngozi's apartment
became a hub for prayer meetings, and people came from all over to witness the miracle.

Remember, prayer is not a joke; it's a powerful tool that can change lives. Don't underestimate the power of a sincere prayer! #PrayerWorks #Faith #MiraclesHappen

Some weeks ago, I was in a rush to deposit some money at the bank. I entered a tricycle and left for the bank. After we arrived and I quickly paid him off, I rushed inside the bank to secure a space and deposit as soon as possible.

It wasn't until I was inside the bank that I realized I had left my phone inside the tricycle. The situation was terrible but I remained calm and put the money in my account before anything else could go wrong.

After depositing the money, I stepped outside for some fresh air. I was devastated. I knew I'd never see my phone again, and the driver had probably sold it already.

But then a voice in my head kept telling me to try calling my phone. I thought it was pointless, but I decided to give it a try. I explained the situation to the bank's security guard, and he kindly lent me his phone.
To my surprise, someone picked up when I called my phone. It was the tricycle driver. He was worried because I hadn't called him all morning, and it was already 3 pm. He told me he'd come to the bank right away.

I couldn't believe it. I was so happy to have my phone back. The driver refused to take any money from me, but I insisted on buying him a drink. We exchanged numbers, and that was that. So wonderful to know that good men like that young man still exist.

I was in my room last night when my neighbour
started screāming... "Help! Help! Snake ooo! " I ran to her room with a strong wood in my hand.
When I dashed into her room, I saw a very big snake facing my neighbour inside her
sitting room and other neighbours joined me with their heavy sticks.
We all started shouting, "Today is the eñd of your life, you evīl snake!". I wanted to be a hero that night, so I first of all ran to the snake to hīt it with my wood. It turned and faced us with red
eyes. Then, I said if I count 1 to 3, we should hīt the snake at once which we all agreed. I started counting, 1...2....3 go! Then, Peeeeeeeem! NEPA sēized the light and deep darkness covered the room.😂
Omo come and see stamped in the room,😂 the wørst part was that non of us remembered where the door was located. My neighbors and I were just jumping haphāzardly like reggae dancers on stage because we didn't know whether the snake was close by. Some people climbed chairs while some climbed the center table. Me I found myself on top of the fridge. We were just hītting one another with our sticks thinking it was the snake!😂 If somebody mīstakenly touch another person a heavy wood will hīt the person with immediate alacrity.😂😂😂
As I was standing on the fridge, few seconds later something soft touched my ankle!😂 Omo I didn't waste time in hītting the thing with my big stick! Immediately I heard cry in the room😂 Somebody was Shøuting "Jesus! My head oo! Who hīt me?" It was then I realized that I had hīt a human being.😂 I moved blīndly forward to console the person then I mīstakenly fell from the fridge and my hand touched something that looked like somebody's kneel! Almost immediately a heavy wood landed on my hand😂 I shouted "Bløød of God who hīt me" Papa Emeka shouted "Jesus GODY no vex na me, I think say na the snake touch me.😂😂😂
Few seconds later Nepa restored power supply and everywhere became bright again. I looked up and saw papa David , Omo am going home I no wan be legend wey kīll snake again, Dem don break my hand e dey enough for me 😔🚶
But To cut the story short we were able to kill the snake but everyone left the room quietly with swollen body parts. 😂😂😂

🎗️ Please don't go without liked my post 🙏