Saturday PUNCH gathered that the attacks occurred in two communities in Bokkos and Mangu Local Government Areas of the state on Thursday night.

According to eyewitnesses, gunmen stormed the Tangur district in Bokkos LGA around 8 pm, shooting indiscriminately as they broke into homes and killed many people.

The Chairman of Community Peace Observers in Bokkos LGA, Kefas Mallai, who confirmed the attack to our correspondent in Jos on Friday, said 13 people, mostly women and children, were killed in Jwan community of the council area.

good morning

Laughs louder

I don laugh tire !

I FOUND OUT MY REAL MOTHER WAS THE HOUSEMAID

All my life, I called her “Mama Rose” — the house help.
She cleaned our floors, cooked our food, and always looked at me with sad eyes.
I never knew why.

Until one day, she bent to pick up a broken glass…
And I saw the exact same birthmark on her back that I had on mine.
A jagged crescent. Like a tear.

That’s when I started asking questions.
And my entire childhood… fell apart.

I grew up thinking I was the daughter of a wealthy woman named Florence Okonkwo.

My “mother” was elegant, cold, and proud.
She dressed me in lace. Drove me to school. Smiled for photos.
But never once told me she loved me.

Not once.

Then there was Mama Rose.

She wore second-hand clothes.
She called me “My Angel.”
She made jollof rice exactly the way I liked it — slightly burnt, with fried goat meat on top.

And every time I was sick,
she cried like her own soul was breaking.

I was 19.

Mama Florence was in London for a conference.
I was home from university on holiday.

That morning, I dropped a glass of water.
It shattered on the kitchen tiles.

As Mama Rose bent to sweep it up, her blouse shifted…
And I saw it.

That strange C-shaped birthmark.
Exactly like mine.
Same shape. Same position. Same darkness.

I froze.

> “Mama Rose… where did you get that mark?”

She paused.
Her hands trembled.
Then she whispered:
“I prayed you’d never see it.”

That night, I went into Mama Florence’s room.

I wasn’t sure what I was looking for.
Maybe an explanation. Maybe proof I was imagining things.

Instead, I found a journal, hidden in a velvet box under her bed.

The first entry was dated February 2003 — the year I was born.

And the very first sentence shattered my identity.

> “The house girl gave birth in the guest room.
I told the nurses to list me as the mother.”

Page after page revealed the truth.

Florence was barren.
Her husband had an affair with the house girl — Rose.

But instead of kicking her out, she made a plan:

> “I’ll raise the child.
She will never know where she came from.
Rose can stay. But she must be invisible.
No hugs. No photos. No motherly attachment.
She is not the mother anymore. I am.”*

I sat across from Mama Rose that evening.

I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t cry.
Couldn’t even form full sentences.

Just three words: “Is it true?”

She didn’t deny it.

She just walked over to the small wooden box she always kept in her room.

Opened it.

Inside were dozens of photos…
of me as a baby.
Cuddled in her arms.
Kissed on the forehead.
Wrapped in an old blue cloth I still slept with at night.

And then she said:

> “I wasn’t strong enough to fight for you.
But I never stopped being your mother.”

Then she added…
“Your father didn’t die in a car crash.
He’s still alive.
He’s just… in the other house.”

I opened Facebook.

Typed in the name Rose gave me.

And when I found the man’s profile…

My heart dropped.

He had another daughter.
She looked just like me.
And her name…
was also Adaeze.

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*BREAKING NEWS!*
Be careful of a sienna Bus that parks in front of you,and ask you to enter, if you refuse to enter, they will accuse you of being,*A run away murderer, a wanted 419ner or a Fraudster on security watch list,their voice will be so loud that passers by will have to unknowingly join them to tell you to enter the bus and follow them to the station. Its a scam,they are kidnappers,that's the new skill they are using,they do not wear police uniform,they are always in normal dresses,but all they do is to park the sienna bus in front of any person anywhere and accuse such a person of murder, and drag such a person into the bus stating that he/she is wanted at the station. They have used this conversation well and many have being trapped in it.
*What to do in such a situation*
When you hear such Scream aloud dont run away.Tell the watchers to look around and call police patrol in normal vehicle or that all of you should walk to the nearest police station. At worst scream for more people to come to your aid before you can ask for their police identity they are kidnappers many have been kidnapped.
Please pass this message to your loved ones.May the Lord expose these kidnappers and ritual killers.
Let the above be circulated to our children,brothers,sisters and loved ones. This is their new strategy now.

Eyes open , watch and pray

This message is from The police

You are welcome to a new day
God will make every way straight for u

All who have actually attained any real religious experience never wrangle over the form in which the different religions are expressed. They know that the soul of all religions is the same.

The ruling passion, be it what it will the ruling passion conquers reason still.

Happy birthday my Gee

She's already know she's one. Secretary does everything

Success is stumbling from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm.