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1. Honey beans is the most sweetest beans of all beans and that is why such name is given to it. It is very easy to cook and don't really need enough Ingredients to cook it.

2. Do not add salt in your beans until it is tendered or else, it will harden prematurely and takes longer time to cook. But there is an exception to this rule, by adding the salt to the water and allowing it to boil very well, before adding the beans.

3. Do not worry yourself, If you don't have crayfish to cook your beans, just use enough onions ( 3 to 5 bulbs of onion ), you can slice some and blend the rest to cook your beans and still get an irresistible taste.

4. The best ingredients to cook your beans are crayfish, onions and palm oil. Even if you are cooking plain beans, still add enough onion for perfect taste.

5. You can enhance the taste of your beans by adding it little sugar. Do not be surprised that sugar is used for cooking, because it is also a seasoning, just like salt.

6. Cooking your plantain with beans is far better than frying the plantain and serving it with the beans. Cooking your plantain with the beans means that the plantain gets the seasonings and spices the beans get. It means that the overall taste of the beans will improve and there is extra sweetness.

7. The best way to cook your beans is by simmering ( slow cooking ), but not by boiling ( high cooking ). Slow cooking will help your beans to cook properly and also retain their shape by treating them gently.

8. Soaking your beans with hot water few hours before cooking it, will help to fasten the cooking process and also, to stop bloating, indigestion and heartburn.

9. Using fresh peppers to cook your beans will give it better taste than using dried peppers, especially if you are using yellow pepper to cook the beans.

10. Tomato should never be used to start the cooking of your beans. This process will help to slow down the cooking process of your beans.

11. In order to take your beans to a higher level (that is, to make it sweet more) and to make it very rich, is by frying the beans and also use enough smoked or dried fish to cook it.

12. Soaking your beans before cooking it, might be a good idea because according to studies, it helps reduce the gas producing properties of the beans and it also shortens the cooking time.

13. Starting the cooking of your beans with acidic ingredients such as tomato, vinegar, lemon juice, chilies, etc can stop your beans from fully cooked and becoming tender. It is best to add those acidic ingredients only towards the end or after cooking the beans.

14. Adding sliced tomato and vegetable leaf (of choice) at the end of the cooking of the beans, is a good source of vitamins and nutrients, and also served for garnishing purposes.

15. To get the best out from your beans, is to cook it with any of the following: yam, ripe/unripe plantain, sweet/Irish potato, rice, noodle or corn. Whenever you are cooking your beans with any of the above foodstuffs, always add it when the beans is almost soften, except if you are using corn to cook the beans.

16. Adding potash (limestone) in your cooking beans will help to speed up the cooking process. This process also helps to save gas or kerosene and it doesn't even change the taste of the beans, but it might be dangerous to your health.

17. Mashing some of your beans when cooking it, can help to give you a perfect thick rich beans porridge.

18. It is best to parboil and rinse your beans like rice, before the proper cooking.This process helps to stop bloating, indigestion and heartburn.

19. The followings can be used to soften your beans faster: Onion, baking soda, potash and using pressure cooker/instant cooker.

20. If you want your beans to soften faster, you can soak or wash it with salt before cooking it.

21. The smaller the beans, the harder it takes to done, while the bigger the beans, the easier it takes to done.

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A day I will never forget

A day I will never forget
It was one Thursday morning during the COVID-19 era.l was outside with a group of people who stayed at home,we were playing ludo near a woman who was selling bread .the owner of the bread was busy prizing yam.
All of a sudden a boy zoomed🏃🏃🏃 passed us and a man in military uniform was giving him a hot chase,he was shouting catch that boy catch that boy then he cracked his gun.lo and behold the old woman that was prizing the yam ran faster than a bullet even more than me before I will look back every body clear both the woman that was selling yam entered our compound and locked me outside I just hid under the woman's table that was selling bread. I looked up,a man came back and was standing his head was so shiny and was reflecting the 🌞
He stood there and the military man came back angry that he missed his target he asked the man standing I told you to catch that boy why didn't you before the guy could reply a thunderous slap was heard poooa 👋👋he staggered and sat on the floor looking left and right as if he was deaf.people had to come out and begged the military man.the man left and every body came out of hiding and was consoling the man I came out of my hiding place and was walking home the woman that was selling yam beckon to "bros abeg help me put am for my head .due to what happened I forgot the woman locked me outside my own compound.and helped her😂😂😂😂

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The Eye-opener

The Eye-opener
Today after school, I tagged along with my friends to their place to get my power bank, which I had left there during the last visit. Initially, I intended to just grab it and head back home, but instead, I found myself staying for a while, catching up with my friends. We started a conversation and unexpectedly shifted to more deeper topics, and we found ourselves discussing diabolical and spiritual phenomena, lol you know how stories goes from one topic to another.

As we delved into our discussions about the existence of the spiritual realm, opinions were divided. Some friends expressed doubt, and we ended up in a hot debate, arguing our points after another. Soon, personal stories began to surface. Each of us shared our own experiences with what we believed to be diabolical occurrences, recounting unexplainable events that had left lasting impressions on us.

Listening to these accounts, we found ourselves captivated by the weight of each tale. It was evident that every person present had encountered something unexplainable, something that defied the regular scientific logic as most people will always like to argue by. These shared experiences were too realistic to dismiss lightly, leading us to question our first notions about the spiritual realm.

As our discussion continued, we came to a conclusion. Despite initial skepticism, the weight of our personal encounters left no room for doubt, there truly exists a spiritual realm. Our individu​​al experiences, combined with the insights we had gained, pointed to an undeniable presence beyond the physical world.
So my friends reading, never doubt that different realms exists and always build your spiritual self.

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They are different colors of life

A neighbor of mine had a little maid she maltreated.

She was too small for the work she does.

In fact one could tell when they enter our house that the little girl was a maid.

All the hardwork in the house was done by the little girl. Why my neighbors children will be sleeping, she would wake Nneka the maid to run house chores.

This went in for years until the little maid was matured enough, she left the house to her parents.

Her madam woke her early in the mother and only allowed her to sleep late at night, this little girl respected her madam very one, and I respect her for that;. because no day pass by without her madam yelling at her.

I asked her one day while she didn't just go back to her family house, but she told me. Ayochidi. I have no where to go, if I go home where will I begin? At least my madam is making sure I go to school. Even though she is always the last to go to school from our compound. She had the brain of a major lady.

When her madam children were finally grown. They couldn't do anything at home, be it house chores or cooking. They lacked the basic skills in doing any.

Few years later Nneka came back to her madam's house. She came with a man.

She introduced the man as her husband. She met the man when she went for an occasion and she cooked the meal which was served.

Mind you, Nneka learnt how to cook from her madam. They man couldn't get enough of the meal and he asked to know who was the hand and face behind the delicious meal and Nneka was introduced to him.

The rest was history. Nneka came to thank her madam for training her well to know how to prepare the delicious meal that brought her husband to her.

While her madam thought she was maltreating and punishing her, she was rather training her to be a better person.

Her madam lived in regret for the rest of her live for not doing same to her kids who were now rather lazy.

She received the gifts Nneka brought to her.

Nneka was no longer living in the same state as her madam, but even as that after her wedding from the far state she lived she still dim it feet to come thank her madam.

Morals: The ways of God is different from man. There are different colors of life.

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Dependent on our Phones

Dependent on our Phones
I was on my way from the street of Maryland down to Timberland New Market. My main goal was to buy essential foodstuffs, as I felt the nearby shops had been raising their prices unnecessarily. I settled into my seat, ready for the journey ahead.

To my surprise, I was delighted to run into some old friends on the bus. We had lost touch for quite some time, and it was a pleasant surprise to see them again. Eager to reconnect, I engaged them in conversation, but it seemed they were too occupied with their phones. I decided to put my phone aside and focus on the reunion. However, my friends were glued to their screens, only lifting their gaze for a word or two before returning their attention to their devices.

Observing this, I couldn't help but ponder the role of technology in our lives. It seemed that everyone was tied to their phones, keeping themselves occupied with what appeared to be very important tasks. I wondered what it would be like for a person to go without their phone for an extended period. Would they feel lost, disconnected from the world? Would they feel useless without their device constantly at hand?

In my view, a phone should be just a part of our lives, not the center of it. If people were suddenly stripped of their phones for weeks on end, would they be able to adapt and find meaning in other aspects of life?

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The Palmer match

The Palmer match
My friends and I went to the betting center to charge our gadgets and phones. It was a big day - Chelsea was playing Everton! I'm not a big fan of football but arriving there for a different purpose required I stick around till the game is over.

As we watched, Chelsea scored goal after goal. The room was heated! When Palmer scored the third goal, the room erupted in cheers. Everyone was jumping up and down, celebrating. But then, something strange caught my eye. I saw a guy floating in the air! At first, I thought I was seeing things. But when I looked closer, I realized what was happening.

The guy had asked a taller friend to lift him up so he could reach a charging socket! It was hilarious. The tall guy was holding him up, and the other guy was stretching to reach the socket. Everyone was too busy celebrating to notice what was going on. But I couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was such a silly thing to do!

The two guys were taking advantage of the distraction to charge their phones. I may have been the only one to spot that short-lived moment while the room went wild

In the end, Chelsea won the game, and we all left the betting center with big smiles on our faces. It was a day I'll never forget - and not just because of the game!

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Tomorrow is far

I was halfway into my meal when the three Okada riders met me inside the Buka. The zinc built roadside restaurant was stuffy that afternoon as the three commercial motorcycle riders stepped into the rowdy joint. They picked a table next to me and then made their orders. I was enjoying my rice and beans with fried meat. This was the popular menu of the eating place. So I was not surprised when the three men also requested rice and beans with meat. But I was surprised when one of them asked the waitress not to put meat on his.
‘ I don’t want meat on my own. ‘He told them loudly.
‘Don’t be stingy. Enjoy yourself while alive.’ I heard one of his companions say.
‘ Yes, spend money on yourself and enjoy your life.’ The third man supported.
But he smiled broadly at his companion and shook his head as if what they were suggesting was ridiculous.
‘You guys can go ahead and enjoy your life with all your money I don’t care. But as for me, I am not spending a dime to buy meat. I hope to do that once I get back to the village. I didn’t come all the way to the city to eat meat.’ He told them seriously.
The waitress brought them their order a few minutes later and I noticed that one of the plates had no meat. I saw the two of them pick out the two plates with meat and left the meatless plate for the third man. He picked up his plate with relish and they all ate silently.
‘But you should be ashamed of your squirrel life. The meat in your meal won’t pinch much from your money. Enjoy today, tomorrow is still far. ’ The first man said as they ate.
‘There is nothing like being a miser here. Look, I have all the money to buy a full ram or goat if I want to. But I have promised myself not to spend extravagantly. I am saving all this money to enjoy myself when I get back to the village.’ The guy responded and then to my surprise brought out a large sum of money from his pocket. ‘You can see I have almost one hundred thousand naira here. But I am not spending a dime on meat. You guys should go ahead and spend yours.’ He said mockingly, protectively returned the money into his pocket and then back to his food.
They finished eating a few minutes later, paid and left me still seated on my seat. I saw them climb their bikes and drive off. I left the buka few minutes later to see a sudden accident ahead of me. Getting to the spot, I saw the mingled body of a man and his bike under a trailer. A proper view confirmed that it was the corpse of the bike rider who had refused to include meat in his meal.


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A narrow escape

A narrow escape
When I woke up this morning, l realized I didn't have much to do, and I'd be bored staying at home all day, so I decided to follow my dad to the farm.

The farm wasn't too far from my house so we walked there. I was wearing sneakers so I took it off because I did not want to look to dirty while going home and since the farm wasn't bushy, I went in barefooted.

I was in the farm for about two hours, helping to plant some things and when I finished, I told my dad I was going home.
I walked over to where I kept my shoes and proceeded to put them on. The right foot already on, I was about putting on the left when I felt a stone in it. I turned the shoe so the stone could fall out, lo and behold, alongside the stone fell a large black scorpion, you all need to hear the way I screamed😂.
My dad ran over and quickly used a stone to smash the scorpion which was already scurrying away.

I have been stung by a scorpion when I was little and the pain is not something I want to experience ever again

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Once upon a time they lived a girl called Deborah.who lived with her parents in a village called asia village.

She's a very obedient and talented child.

One day her parents went to the farm and they never returned.

She and the villagers all wanted for two days but yet they never showed up.

So the villagers all began to search but instead they never found them.

Deborah got up angrily and then decided to go to the that particular farm where her parents do fetch firewood.

On she getting there,her eye's could not believe what she saw.

Her parents had already been devoured into pieces by an unknown creature.

To be continue ,..,

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The handwriting 👌

The school bus always came as early as 7a.m to pick my kids up for school.

So I usually woke up as early as 5a.m to start getting them prepared for school and also get ready for work since I equally left home for work at that time too.

On this particular day, I had woken up very late. I ran a very high temperature in the night.

Since it was glaring that they were going to miss the school bus that morning, I decided to take permission from my work place to be a few minutes late to work.

That was the only way to avoid my salary getting slashed by month end.

I quickly took them to school before heading to work that morning.

I was still at work when a staff at my children's school called telling me to come pick my kids up from school.
From the tone of her voice, I could sense that she was very angry with me for keeping her in school by that time.

It was already 5p.m, I was already an hour late.

"Please madam, don't be annoyed. I'm coming now" I said as I packed the files in front of me

I still had piles of work in front of me but at that moment, I needed to pick my kids up from school first.

That was the hardest part of being a single mum!

After spending almost an extra one hour on the road because of the terrible traffic jam, I finally got to their school but met it locked!

I quickly dialed the number that had called me earlier;

"Hello madam, please I'm in school now. Where are you?" I asked feeling sorry for the poor woman.

"I left school thirty minutes ago. They should be with the school security man. Just knock on the gate." She said.

"Okay, thank you very much and I'm really sorry for keeping you in school till that time" I apologized before I ended the call.

After standing in front of the gate knocking for over 5 minutes, the security man finally opened the gate.
He must have been deeply in sleep seeing how drowsy he looked.

"Good evening...Please I came to pick my kids" I said

"Your pikins still dey school?" he asked looking confused as he walked towards the waiting room.

"No child dey inside there oh" he said walking towards the hate

"Those two children one madam wey dey teach here drop for you" I tried explaining to him.

"Oh!...Oh!...Oh!...i don remember...They don go since na" he said

"I don't understand...go how?" I asked confused

"Look at it here na...your husband name no be Stephen?
He don come carry them...He no tell you?" he said pointing at the student's sign out register.

The handwriting looked exactly like my late husband's writing😱

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I did not know whether I should run away or scream. I felt my legs trembling profusely. This man was huge, he looked like a Dwayne Johnson in a black skin .

I looked at him straight in the eyes and met his gaze. I noticed his eyes were fixed on my chest. I was about to asked him who the heck he was when I heard footsteps again, this time it was the woman who brought me here that was coming down from the stairs with a tray in her hands. It must be food I guess, I really needed to eat because I was d.ead famished.

"Oh!" She uttered as she headed for the dinning table..." Honey I'm so sorry for not informing you about our guest; I picked her up today at the motor park"

The man did not even move a muscle, he just smiled at me and made his way to the dinning table. ..." Join us for lunch" he said in his thick voice as he hanged his coat at the back of the chair he was sitting on.

"Yes come and join us" the woman beckoned too.

I dropped my bag by the corner of the sofa and gently walked towards the dining table. They were both looking at me as I walked to join them. The woman took out a plate and dished out food for me. It was egusi and eba. I really needed something like this and I was hallucinating already.

When she placed the food in front of me, I hurriedly washed my hands and dug into it like a hungry soul who hasn't eaten for five years. My gosh! the food was tasty, who ever made this meal must be very good at it. I have never in my life had something like this to eat. Thick egusi soup with two large pieces of goat meat garnished with small small pieces of fish ; where I come from, soups are often times very watery and you would hardly find meat in our meals,

They let me eat to my full. The woman even added extra when I was done...." Eat my dear" she said smiling......" You are really hungry I guess"

I did not even respond to her, I was busy with the food, my worry was just the man who has not touched his food yet. He was just looking at me with a face void of emotions. "Should I be concerned?" I asked myself in whispers as I swallowed the eba I had in my mouth. That was the last of it and I made sure to lick my plate clean.

"Drink water" the man said. "You might choke" he added.

I looked at him for a while and then shifted my gaze to the woman who nodded in agreement. I reach out my hand and grabbed the bottle of water and drank cautiously.

Something is not right, I could feel it in my spirit. There's something fishy about this people.

"Did you say you are a pastor's wife?" I asked boldly like an investigative journalist.

" Oh yes" she replied wearing a smile on her face. " I'm so sorry I did not introduce myself earlier on, you never did too, but by the way, I'm Mrs jala aguiche and this is my husband Ian aguiche the senior pastor of word of life international"

"I'm sure you must have heard about word of life before " the man said as he began to eat his food.

"Not at all" I responded....."my first time actually "

"Really?" He said as he raised a ball of eba to his mouth.

"Tell us about yourself too" Mrs jala requested. " We have to know you too if you must stay with us"

"Stay with us?" Ian asked, almost choking. He quickly reached out for a bottle of water filled his cup to drink.

I looked at him and he was looking at me too while he drank the water.

When he was done drinking, he cleared his throat and turned to his wife.

"Honey we cannot just bring up a stranger from the street and house them under our roof just like that. The world has become something else lately"

"But she is stranded " she replied him compassionately

They kept at it for a while and I just sat there looking at them both as they argued about whether to let me stay or let me go. Clearly, the man was scared, but how can huge man like this be scared of what a fifteen years old girl could do. Is he that weak?

"It's fine " I screamed at them both....." It's okay, you don't have to argue about whether I'm staying or not, I'm a stranger and I don't belong here so I guess I'd have to go. Thanks for the meal"

I stood up to go but the woman dragged me back and asked me to sit down for a minute. She then beckoned on her husband to follow her. He stood up swiftly and I sensed a form of agitation. They both disappeared into a room just by the corner of the dinning area.

I just sat there with my eyes fixed on the door. It was now that It was beginning to hit me that I made a mistake to just run away to the city without connection. What if they don't allow me to stay with them here tonight, how would I do this night? Where would I sleep? Ian has afore mentioned that it is terrible out there in the streets. How would a fifteen years old girl like me survive out there in the dark?........"i won't survive a night " i whispered as tears began to roll down my face.


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I was trekking to work very early this morning holding 100naira with my face looking like bread wey them squeeze.

I tried looking for bus to take me to work but all of them were charging 150 due to the hike in fuel and 100naira was all I had if you combine my opay, palmpay, access bank, phantom wallet, telegram wallet and okx wallet. I no even get wetin to use chop.

While i was trekking, one little boy walked up to me in tears with serious catarrh coming out from his nose...

The boy: good morning sir. Sir please help me, I haven't eaten for the past 2days and nobody wants to help me.

I looked at the boy and the big quantity of catarrh coming out from his nose, I had compassion on him...

Me: you get 50naira, make I give you 100naira.

The boy: yes sir.

(he brought out small bundle of money from his pocket enough to feed me for 3days. He selected 50naira...)

The boy: stretched his hand sir look at it.

Me: snatched the 50naira and started running

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My Traveling Experience

When I was traveling home for the holidays, I decided to take a bus since it was late at night. I boarded the bus with a mix of excitement and tiredness from a long day of travel. The journey started off fine, with the bus rolling smoothly along the dark, deserted roads.

However, as we got further into the journey, I noticed something unsettling. The bus driver, instead of focusing on the road, was engaging in lively conversations with the passengers. At first, it seemed harmless—a bit of banter to keep everyone awake during the late-night ride. But then, things took a turn for the worse.

I heard the driver talking about stopping for a break, and soon enough, he pulled over at a dimly lit roadside shop. What happened next shocked me. The driver and some of the passengers got off the bus and started buying alcohol. They brought the bottles back on board and began drinking, right there in their seats.

I couldn't believe what I was witnessing. Here we were, hurtling down dark highways at night, with the driver under the influence of alcohol. It was terrifying. I sat there, clutching my phone tightly, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach.

To make matters worse, my parents kept calling to check on me. They were worried sick, knowing I was traveling alone at such a late hour. Each time I answered their calls, I couldn't bring myself to tell them what was happening. I didn't want to worry them even more.

As the journey continued, the situation only grew more tense. The driver's conversation with the passengers became louder and more animated, filled with laughter that seemed out of place given the circumstances. I glanced nervously out of the window, praying silently that we would reach our destination safely.

Thankfully, after what felt like an eternity, the bus finally pulled into the terminal. I hurried off the bus, my legs shaky from fear and relief. I couldn't believe I had made it through such a harrowing experience. As I walked away from the bus, I vowed never to travel with that transportation company again.

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The Light of Hope: Nigeria′s Renewed Hope

The Light of Hope

Nigeria's Renewed Hope

Comrade Philip Tyongun Doki-Abua

In a Nigeria ravaged by darkness, fuel scarcity, and economic hardship under the Tinubu Renewed Hope government, one generator stood tall in Abuja's city center. It symbolized the nation's resilience, but its dwindling fuel supply mirrored the country's desperate state.
Kande, a young and determined girl, lived in a nearby slum. She had lost her father, a maize farmer, to the brutal attacks of Fulani herdsmen who had invaded their farm, seeking to graze their cattle on the lush crops. The tragedy had left her mother struggling to make ends meet amidst soaring food prices and rampant unemployment.
As the generator's roar grew fainter, Kande's hopes seemed to fade with it. But she refused to give up. She spent her days scavenging for scraps and her nights studying by the faint light of a dying phone battery. Her dream was to become an engineer, to bring light and power back to her community.
One fateful evening, while exploring the internet at a local cybercafe, Kande stumbled upon an online community discussing sustainable energy solutions. Inspired, she convinced her friends to join her in building a solar-powered mini-grid for their community.
As they worked tirelessly, the nation grappled with the crippling fuel scarcity, Yahoo Yahoo (internet fraud) syndicates exploited the desperation, and the cost of living continued to skyrocket. The government struggled to find solutions, but Kande's small solar project sparked a beacon of hope.
When the last generator finally died, Kande's solar grid roared to life, illuminating the darkness. The community rallied around her, and soon, the project expanded, powering homes, businesses, and even a local farm.
But Kande knew that the open grazing issue was a root cause of the conflict that had taken her father's life. She decided to expand her project to include a sustainable farming initiative, promoting ranching and feed production to replace open grazing.
With the help of her community, Kande established a model farm, showcasing the benefits of ranching and feed production. The initiative caught the attention of the government, which began to support and replicate the model nationwide.
As the solar grids expanded and the farming initiative took root, the nation slowly transformed:
- Farmers could grow their crops without fear of invasion
- Herdsmen could graze their cattle on designated ranches
- Food production increased, reducing prices
- The conflict between farmers and herdsmen decreased
- The community became a model for sustainable development
Kande's initiative inspired a national movement, and soon, solar panels, mini-grids, and model farms sprouted across Nigeria. The nation slowly transformed, harnessing the power of innovation and collective action to overcome its struggles.
Under the Tinubu Renewed Hope government, Nigeria began to experience a renewed sense of hope and progress. The story of Kande and her community served as a beacon of inspiration, showing that even in the darkest of times, the power of resilience, innovation, and collective action could drive positive change.


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Sweetest Summer Rain

Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter

My story begins! The sun beamed down on the picturesque town of Agbani, casting its golden rays across the rolling hills. Joe, a young man with a wild spirit and an insatiable curiosity, strolled down the main street, his eyes wandering over the charming shops and colourful houses. He had always yearned for adventure, seeking solace in the unknown and the unexpected.

As he meandered along, a burst of laughter caught his attention. Curiosity piqued, Joe turned towards the source of the joyous sound and found himself drawn to a small café tucked away in a corner. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the melodious chatter of people enticed him inside.

The café was bustling with activity, and Joe's eyes scanned the room, searching for the source of that infectious laughter. And then, he saw her. Mary, sitting at a corner table, her vibrant paintings displayed around her, emanating a sense of whimsy and joy. Her eyes sparkled like the summer rain, inviting all who looked upon her to embrace the magic of life.

Unable to resist the pull, Joe made his way towards her table, feeling an inexplicable connection. He introduced himself, and their conversation flowed effortlessly. They spoke of dreams and passions of hidden desires and untold stories. It was as if they had known each other for a lifetime, their souls entwined by an invisible thread.

Hours passed like fleeting moments, and as the sun began its descent, Joe and Mary realized they had shared something extraordinary. They exchanged contact information, promising to meet again. With a lingering smile and a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes, Joe bid Mary farewell, his heart brimming with excitement for what the future might hold.

As Joe stepped outside, the first droplets of rain began to fall. The summer rain was a gentle embrace, refreshing the air and cleansing the world around him. He tilted his head back, letting the raindrops kiss his face, and in that moment, he felt a surge of hope and possibility. Little did he know that this sweet summer rain would mark the beginning of an unforgettable journey, where friendships would blossom, secrets would unfold, and the magic of life would reveal itself in the most unexpected ways.

Anticipate!!!! CHAPTER TWO (2)....

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In a cozy suburban neighborhood, the Patel family thrived. Every evening, after a long day, they gathered around the dinner table, sharing stories and laughter. Despite their differences, they were bound by love and unwavering support for each other. When Mrs. Patel fell ill, the family rallied together, showing strength in unity. Mr. Patel took charge of cooking, surprising everyone with his culinary skills. Their daughter, Maya, stayed by her mother’s side, offering comfort and encouragement. Through their combined efforts and love, Mrs. Patel recovered, and their bond grew even stronger. Together, they proved that family is the ultimate source of happiness and strength.

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The odour

My room has been smelling so awful for the past three days now but the smell became so strong this night.

I couldn't hold it any longer as I put on my phone torchlight and started searching my room for the dead rat that might have died without me knowing.

I searched under my bed but it was clear; the only things I saw were the mirinda empty can and biscuit wrap I had eaten earlier and the body lotion I had been searching for before I got a new one. I wasn't that much of a cream fan; I hated applying body lotions so most times I end up getting new ones since I had mistakenly misplaced the old ones.

I continued searching but couldn't place my hands on what had such an offensive smell.

I checked my dirty clothes in the basket to be sure the smell wasn't coming from there but as I doubted, it wasn't it.

I couldn't bare it any longer so I left my room hoping to continue the search the next day.

"Mum, I'm sleeping with you in your room today oh.
I think a rat died in my room and I can't even find it" I said loudly as I entered her room.

My mum was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

I entered her room but the smell was stronger there.
I couldn't even stay long in the room before I rusher out from it heading to meet my mum.

"What is happening, mum?...Everywhere is just smelling bad" I said to her feeling irritated.

"Sorry dear, the meat I brought got decayed. I had to throw them away into the waste bin outside.
I guess that's what has been smelling" she said.

"I thought as much," I said as I went out to look at the meat in the waste bin.

In the waste bin was a big asepa nylon bag nearly knotted.
I opened it and couldn't believe my eyes at what I saw;

It was my mum!

Just immediately, I heard the woman start laughing hysterically as she walked out slowly with a kn!fe in her hand.

Watch out for part two

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It was time for us to take our marriage vows.
As I stood there, I couldn’t contain my excitement. My heart
swelled with joy knowing I had finally found a wife, not just
any wife, but a virgin wife. My smile was so wide and genuine
that it caught everyone's attention, including my bride’s.
I was beaming, filled with a happiness I couldn't describe.
Just before the ceremony started, I walked over to her and
gave her a warm hug. I even leaned in to kiss her but stopped
myself, remembering it wasn’t time yet.
The congregation watched in surprise, unable to understand
the depth of my happiness. I couldn't wait any longer and
pleaded with the pastor to proceed so I could kiss my wife for
the first time.
The pastor smiled at me, then faced the congregation.
"If anyone here has any reason why these two should not be
joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your
peace." He repeated the question for the last time.
My patience was wearing thin. "Who on earth would object to
my marriage to my virgin wife?"
As I was mulling this over, I was interrupted by a commotion
in the congregation. Turning to look, I saw a young, beautiful
lady standing with a little boy on her back.
My heart sank as I noticed my bride cutting her eyes and
making frantic signs at the woman to sit down.
“What’s going on here? Can someone explain this to me?” I
demanded, my voice trembling.
The pastor tried to calm me. "Please, Mr. Henry, calm down."
The church was in shock. This was unprecedented. The pastor
addressed the young woman, "Yes, young lady, what do you
have to say?"
"I'm very sorry for what I'm about to reveal," she began, her
voice shaky. "Mr. Henry, please find it in your heart to forgive
me. I might ruin your wedding, but the truth must be told."
She continued, tears streaming down her face.
"Amaka, the bride, has been my childhood friend. I know
everything about her. The child you see on my back is her
third child." Gasps echoed through the church as the pastor
tried to calm everyone.
I was in disbelief. Rushing to my bride, I pleaded, "Baby, tell
me she's lying." But her face gave her away. There was no
denial, just a look of shame.
The pastor urged the woman to continue. "Many of you might
think I'm jealous, but this is the truth, and nothing but the
truth. May I never see the light of tomorrow if I'm lying," she
"She abandoned me with this child five months after he was
born and disappeared. It’s been over a year, and she hasn’t
once asked about him or called to check on his welfare.
I lost my job because of her, I was humiliated because of this
child, and yet she never bothered."
She paused, "But I’m not alone. I came with an old friend."
She motioned to a man in the crowd. "Mr. Johnson, can you
please stand up?"
When Mr. Johnson stood, I turned to my bride in shock. "Is
this the same Mr. Johnson who has been calling you every
night? The one you said was your brother in China?" She
didn’t respond, just hung her head in shame.
Mr. Johnson spoke, his voice calm but firm. "What she said is
true. Amaka was my girlfriend. She left when I discovered she
was carrying another man's child. She made me believe she
had an abortion and was out of town, but unknowingly she
was arranging to marry someone else."
"My name is Mr. Johnson, popularly known as Papa Ejima. Yes,
Amaka was my girlfriend, and she gave me these beautiful
twins you see sitting beside me."
The congregation erupted. People began leaving in shame and
My mind was a whirlwind. My head ached, my eyes burned,
and my legs felt like lead. Turning to my bride, I begged,
"Babe, tell me it’s not true. Tell me he’s lying."
For the first time, Amaka spoke, her voice barely a whisper.
"I’m so sorry, my husband. Please find it in your heart to
forgive me."
My world shattered.
"Oh, so it is the truth," I said, my voice hollow.
She nodded, confirming my worst fears.
"Oh, my virgin wife," I cried out before everything went black,
and I fainted.
The last thing I heard was the collective gasp of the
congregation and the pastor’s voice calling for help as
darkness engulfed me.

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Back to Old School

Back to Old School
I remember the day we had an old school dressing day in my faculty like it was yesterday. The whole idea had been brewing for a while, and as one of the student organizers, I was thrilled to see it finally coming to life. It was a chance for us to step back in time and embrace the fashion and styles of previous decades, and I couldn't wait to see how everyone would interpret the theme.

In the days leading up to the event, excitement buzzed through the campus. The air was filled with whispers and plans as students scoured closets and thrift stores in search of the perfect vintage outfits. As for me, I found myself diving into my parents' old photo albums, seeking inspiration from their youthful fashion choices.

When the big day arrived, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. As I made my way to the faculty building, I was greeted by a riot of color and an eclectic mix of fashion that spanned the ages. The campus seemed to be a kaleidoscope of different eras - there were poodle skirts and leather jackets from the 50s, bell-bottoms and tie-dye from the 70s, and neon tracksuits from the 80s, to name just a few.

I had decided to embrace the jazz age of the 1920s, and I felt like I had stepped out of a time machine. In a sleek, fringed flapper dress and a feathered headband, I felt like a character from The Great Gatsby, transported into the 21st century. As I strolled through the crowds, I couldn't help but smile at the effort and creativity that had gone into everyone's outfits.

The old school dressing day was more than just a chance to play dress-up; it was an opportunity for us to connect with the past, to appreciate the timeless appeal of vintage fashion, and to celebrate the rich tapestry of styles that had come before us. It was a day filled with laughter, nostalgia, and a sense of camaraderie as we marveled at each other's outfits and shared stories of the bygone eras we were channeling.

As the day drew to a close, I felt a sense of gratitude for the experience. It had been a reminder that fashion has the power to transcend time, and that by looking back, we can find inspiration for the future. The old school dressing day had brought the campus together in a playful, unique way, and it was a day that would be fondly remembered for years to come.

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The Wrong Legacy

"Okafor, bring your chair closer let us gist na" said my grandpa in a shaking voice. As I drew my chair closer to him, we began to plunder on what discuss about after having our dinner of some delicious Eba and eguisi soup which my mum had prepared, I was already heading to bed before my grandpa saw me and sort for companionship.

For as long as I could remember, my grandpa had virtually told me all the ancient stories which I could think of. "What kind of conversation does this man want to have with me again at this time of the night" as I said to my self. But I noticed the tears dropping out seamlessly out of my grandpa's eyes, startle by this I knelt close to him as I enquire,"grandpa what is the matter, did I do something wrong?" No my son " said grandpa, I become very sad whenever I think of your late father, at that point my mind travelled pass a thousand seas and I too had a teary eyes.

It is exactly twenty (20) years ago since his son (my dad) past away. When I was exactly three years old and my sister had just been born. Obviously I didn't get to meet my dad as every normal kid had. I had very faded memories of him which he was brutally alienated.

As the story was told to us by our mother. My dad and mum had just gotten married, my dad having a stable job and my mum having a menial trade business which she managed. After one year, he lost his job and was jobless for about six months with no source of income and feeding was expenses was automatically dependant on my mother's business which wasn't doing so well because she had just had her first child (me), apparently everything was upside down for the family, all my dad did was to submit applications all day long. Also as it was told to us at some point in time my dad went into menial Bricklaying jobs after being a certified accountant.

This continued for more than two years until one day which he got himself into something which would determine his sad end. While my dad engaged in his Bricklaying activities some group of people came to their site and said they needed few men who could help them undertake a certain tasks that required strong and hefty man which my dad some one of the volunteer, they schedule a time for meeting them which my dad attended.

It was at that point that they realized that there were gold smugglers who smuggle gold across countries, realizing this many opted out as they wanted no part in such illegal activities which could bring problems for them but my dad didn't.

He came and told his wife about the job which bluntly refused and disagreed which she encouraged him to continue with the menial Bricklaying and with her business they would be able to manage for a while expecting a change.

But my dad refused, " just look at the way we are living from hand to mouth, is it suppose to be so, our first son is just two years and six months old and you are already pregnant what legacy am I expected to leave for if not money , I need money, woman I said , I need money, at least let me just a bite out of the country's national cake. At the least the bible said the silver is mine, the gold is mine sayest the Lord" said my father as he supports his claim to undertake the gold smuggling job due to the numerous benefits as he left the out and mum crying out for him to stop.

They ran the operation, mine the gold and began the smuggling which my dad was at the forefront. All activities were undertaken in Enugu state successfully but when my dad was to return to Asaba , Delta state where he resides having collected his own cut of the operation he was apprehended by military operatives in the state who were bribed by his own employers who would met him to join the operation so as to seek his elimination due to the fact that they suspected that he might pose a threat to them and might leak the operations if caught.

After being apprehended and taken to the prison where in two days time he was reported poisoned. Which made the entire family grief for years as a result of the wrong legacy which he sort to leave behind.

With my face placed on my grandpa's leg, still with a teary eyes, my grandpa said any legacy whether materially or emotionally, spiritually, physical which is built illegitimate or mundane things leads to ultimate destruction and a bad name, and with such lessons I have been able to establish a legacy built on good name and legitimately gotten wealth and also commitment to any other thing rather than anything else.

The End...

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First time coming to Port Harcourt city

I still remember my first time in Port Harcourt like it was yesterday. I had just arrived from Lagos, eager to explore the city and start my new job. As I stepped out of the airport, the warm sun hit me, and the humid air enveloped me. I was struck by the lush greenery and the vibrant sounds of the city.

My colleague, Chijioke, was waiting for me at the airport, and we set off towards the city. As we drove, he pointed out landmarks and shared stories about the city's history and culture. I was fascinated by the mix of old and new buildings, the bustling markets, and the friendly people.

We stopped at a local restaurant for lunch, and I was introduced to the famous Port Harcourt dish, pepper soup with catfish. The flavors exploded in my mouth, and I was hooked. Chijioke laughed at my reaction, "Welcome to Port Harcourt, my friend! You're in for a treat!"

As we continued our journey, I noticed the city's unique blend of traditional and modern architecture. We passed by the beautiful Rivers State Government House, the bustling Ariaria Market, and the scenic waterfront.

Eventually, we arrived at my new apartment, a cozy place in a quiet neighborhood. Chijioke helped me settle in and introduced me to some of my new neighbors. They welcomed me with warm smiles and open arms.

That evening, we explored the city's nightlife, enjoying the music and laughter at a local bar. I felt like I had finally arrived in Port Harcourt, and the city had already stolen my heart.

From that day on, Port Harcourt became my home, and I embraced its vibrant energy, rich culture, and warm people. My first time in Port Harcourt was a memorable experience that set the tone for an incredible journey in the city.

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