A man in Kano went to a foodseller.
He had not eaten in 3 days.
He bêgged the seller for food on credit.

The foodseller said no because he already gave food to too many people on credit.

The man sat down beside the foodseller’s shop as he had nowhere else to go.

The foodseller told him he’s very sørry and he would like to help but too many people in the neighbourhood have collected food on credit and his business is sínkīng.

The man sat there and said nothing.

As time went on, other people came into the shop to buy foodstuff and went out- they noticed the man at the door sitting there sleeping. But nobody bōthered.

Until one man came later in the day and asked the foodseller: “who is the man sitting at your door?” “Why is he there?”

Then the foodseller said “oh it’s a man who says he has not eaten for 3 days and he wants to collect food on credit but I could not give him because my business is strūggliñg from all the credit I have already given out”.

Then the other man said: “How much is the food he wants?”

The food seller said “It’s a few cups of garri, rice and beans. Everything may be 2,000 naira”.

The other man said “Alright pack everything he wants and more. I would pay for it. Let him go home to his family and eat”.

The foodseller packed all the food and went outside to tell the man with joy that someone has paid for his food.

He saw the man still sleeping.
He tâpped him to wake him up, he didn’t respond. Tâpped him again, nothing.

The man had dīed.
He dīed sitting and waiting for help.

This hâppened just few days ago in Badawa, Kano. Some people who live in that area know this story.

The man was de@d all along while people were coming in and out of the shop thinking he was sleeping.

He dīed høpeless. He dīed hêlpless. He dīed a man who his country faīled.

If you know anyone in this periød who is hūngry around you and you can afford a little food or money to give him/her, please do.

Many people are walking the streets with an ēmpty stomach.

BREAKING NEWS: Saudi "Sleeping Prince" Al-Waleed bin Khaled Reportedly Regains Consciousness After 20 Years in Coma

In a stunning and emotional development, Prince Al-Waleed bin Khaled bin Talal Al Saud, popularly known as the “Sleeping Prince,” has allegedly regained consciousness after spending nearly two decades in a coma. The prince, who was critically injured in a devastating car accident in 2005, has been on life support ever since.

According to reports circulating on social media and some regional outlets, Prince Al-Waleed, now 36 years old, showed signs of waking up earlier this month and has now regained a level of consciousness that shocked both his family and medical team. While official confirmation from the Saudi royal family has not yet been released, the news has sparked a wave of emotional reactions across the Arab world and beyond.

A Tragic Accident, A Miraculous Recovery

The accident that changed Prince Al-Waleed’s life occurred in 2005 when he was a university student in the United Kingdom. The crash left him with severe brain injuries and multiple fractures, leading to a persistent vegetative state that defied years of medical intervention.

Despite medical advice urging the family to consider ending life support, Prince Khaled bin Talal, his father, refused to give up hope. The prince remained in intensive care in a specially equipped facility in Riyadh, where he was continuously monitored by top-tier medical professionals.

A Family's Hope Rewarded

Over the years, the prince’s father remained steadfast in his belief that his son would recover. Videos occasionally released by the family showed minimal movement, such as the prince raising a finger, which they took as a sign of life and hope.


Sources close to the family claim that Prince Khaled was speechless and overwhelmed with emotion upon hearing the news that his son had opened his eyes and responded to stimuli.

“Welcome back to life, our handsome prince,” said a family member in a message shared on social media.

Public Reaction and Reflections

Across the Middle East, citizens have expressed joy, astonishment, and admiration for the family’s resilience. The story has reignited debates about faith, the power of medical care, and the emotional weight of end-of-life decisions.

Many on social media are calling the prince’s recovery a “miracle,” while others reflect on the extraordinary resources committed to sustaining his life.

A Moral Reflection

The extraordinary story has also prompted philosophical and moral reflections, with many noting: “Money can sometimes buy life.” While not diminishing the miracle of the recovery, this statement acknowledges the role of wealth in providing long-term critical care and sustaining hope over two decades.

Awaiting Official Confirmation

As of the time of this report, there has been no formal statement from the Saudi royal family or the King Faisal Specialist Hospital where the prince is believed to have been treated. The world now watches for further details and confirmation of the prince’s current medical condition and prospects for recovery ..

Nigerian Singer, 𝗨𝗴𝗼𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗲 Lends Her Voice Against The K!lling Of Innocent Babies In Benue State

Injustice against one, They say, is injustice against all and it is a good thing that our Celebrities are using their huge platforms to speak for the masses.

Afrobeats Singer Ugoccie condemned The Massacre of over 200 innocent people in Benue State.

Ugoccie disclosed that she came across the live video made by Nigerian activist VDM to cover the incident and it traumatized her to the point that her entire day was Ruined because of it.

It is terrible that someone would have the heart to hurt innocent babies not to mention burning them alive

This Should Be condemned by all. Say A prayer for Benue State . No one deserves this level of human cruelty against his own kind

Moral Lesson: To you That Is Reading this, May God Not Allow You And Your Family Be Victims of Any Kind . Amen

Follow Our Page SouthEast Music chart For All The Updates On Your Favorite Igbo Musicians Around The World 🙏🏽

#nigeria #Benue #igbo #nigerianmusic #afrobeats #ugoccie #AbiaState #Biafra #VDM #igbomusic #Igbohighlife #Ogene #music #news #babies

Finally, Body of Late Nigerian Boxer, Segun Olanrewaju Success Returns Home Tuesday 17th June, 2025

Tomorrow Tuesday 17th June, 2025, remains of the late Nigerian boxer who died in the ring during a bout in Ghana, Segun Olanrewaju Success will arrive airport in Lagos for onward transportation to Ota, where night of candles and tributes will be held in his honor.

Objectv Media confirmed from the Nigerian Boxing Board of Control (NBBofC) and also from the deceased’s family, that the candle and tribute night event for the late boxer will hold at the open field of the Honda Manufacturing Company in Ota.

Olanrewaju Success will then be buried next day in Atan, Ota, Ogun State.

The Nigerian boxer died during a bout with Ghana’s John Mbanugu at the Bokum boxing Arena. Reports from Ghana attributed the tragic incident to a medical cardiac arrest.

#News #Sports #Nigeria #Ghana #Africa #Boxing #SegunSuccess #Update #BeObjectv

Finally, Body of Late Nigerian Boxer, Segun Olanrewaju Success Returns Home Tuesday 17th June, 2025

Tomorrow Tuesday 17th June, 2025, remains of the late Nigerian boxer who died in the ring during a bout in Ghana, Segun Olanrewaju Success will arrive airport in Lagos for onward transportation to Ota, where night of candles and tributes will be held in his honor.

Objectv Media confirmed from the Nigerian Boxing Board of Control (NBBofC) and also from the deceased’s family, that the candle and tribute night event for the late boxer will hold at the open field of the Honda Manufacturing Company in Ota.

Olanrewaju Success will then be buried next day in Atan, Ota, Ogun State.

The Nigerian boxer died during a bout with Ghana’s John Mbanugu at the Bokum boxing Arena. Reports from Ghana attributed the tragic incident to a medical cardiac arrest.

#News #Sports #Nigeria #Ghana #Africa #Boxing #SegunSuccess #Update #BeObjectv

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 6
The morning of Jessica’s birthday dawned bright and golden, but her heart felt heavy.
She sat by the floor-to-ceiling windows of Mr. Scar’s villa, watching the sun rise over Lagos, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the glass. Birthdays had always been a quiet affair in the slums—if they were celebrated at all. Her mother would save for weeks just to buy a small cake, her father would whisper prayers of gratitude over her head, and her siblings would crowd around her, their laughter loud enough to shake their tiny one-room home.
Now, surrounded by luxury, she missed them more than ever.
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
She didn’t hear him enter.
Mr. Scar stood silently, watching her.
He had noticed the change in her these past few days—the way her smiles didn’t quite reach her eyes, the way she stared at her phone but never dialed, the way she flinched whenever someone mentioned family.
He knew why.
And he had planned something.
Clearing his throat, he stepped forward. Jessica quickly wiped her face, forcing a smile.
"You’re up early," she said softly.
Mr. Scar didn’t respond. Just studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned and left.
Jessica’s shoulders slumped.
She shouldn’t have expected anything.
Two hours later, a sleek black dress was delivered to her room.
Silk. Designer. The kind of thing she used to admire in shop windows but could never afford.
A note was pinned to it:
"Wear this. Be ready by 7."
Jessica’s heart skipped.
The restaurant was breathtaking.
An entire five-star venue, emptied of all other guests, decorated in soft gold and white. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering light over tables laden with food—not just any food, but her favorites. Jollof rice, peppered snails, even the small coconut cakes her mother used to save up to buy her.
Jessica turned in a slow circle, her mouth open.
"What… is all this?"
Mr. Scar stood beside her, his usual scowl in place, but there was something softer in his eyes.
"You thought I forgot," he said.
It wasn’t a question.
Jessica swallowed. "I didn’t think you… cared."
A muscle ticked in his jaw. Then, so quiet she almost missed it:
"I do."
For the first time in months, Jessica laughed.
Really laughed.
Mr. Scar’s men—usually so intimidating—had awkwardly attempted to decorate, hanging lopsided balloons and streamers. A massive cake was wheeled out, and though Mr. Scar refused to wear the ridiculous paper crown the chef offered, Jessica caught the faintest smirk when she put hers on.
Music played. She danced. And for a few hours, the weight on her heart lifted.
But as the night wound down, a familiar sadness crept back in.
Mr. Scar noticed.
"Come," he said, holding out his hand.
"Where are we going?"
"You’ll see."
The drive was quiet.
Jessica watched the city blur past, her mind racing. They left the bustling streets behind, winding into an upscale residential area—the kind where diplomats and billionaires lived.
Her pulse quickened when the car slowed.
A mansion loomed ahead, its gates ornate, its gardens lush under the moonlight.
"Whose house is this?" she whispered.
Mr. Scar didn’t answer. Just stepped out and offered his hand.
Jessica took it, her legs unsteady.
The doorbell echoed like a gunshot in the silent night.
Jessica held her breath.
Then—
The door opened.
And her mother stood there.
Time stopped.
Jessica’s knees gave out. She collapsed right there on the marble steps, her hands flying to her mouth.
"Mama?"
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. "My baby!"
Then arms were around her—her mother’s familiar scent, her father’s strong embrace, her siblings’ voices shouting her name as they piled into the doorway.
Jessica sobbed.
They were here. They were healthy. Their clothes were new, their faces fuller, their smiles brighter.
How?
She turned, searching for Mr. Scar.
He stood a few paces back, his hands in his pockets, watching.
And for the first time, Jessica understood.
"You…" Her voice broke. "You did this?"
Mr. Scar shrugged, as if it were nothing. "I had them moved months ago."
Months.
That meant…
He had been taking care of them. All this time.
Jessica’s heart swelled until she thought it might burst.
Her father stepped forward, gripping Mr. Scar’s hand. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick. "You saved us."
Mr. Scar looked almost uncomfortable. "I don’t like debts."
But Jessica knew the truth.
This wasn’t about debts.
This was about her.
Later, when the tears had dried and the initial shock had worn off, Jessica found Mr. Scar standing alone in the garden.
She approached slowly.
"You never told me," she said.
He didn’t turn. "Would you have believed me?"
"No."
A pause. Then:
"They’re yours," he said gruffly. "The house. The cars. Everything. It’s in your name."
Jessica’s breath caught.
"Why?"
Finally, he faced her. The moonlight caught the scar on his cheek, the gold in his eyes.
"Because you smiled today," he said simply. "I wanted to see it again."
And with that, he walked away, leaving Jessica standing there, her heart in her throat.
As she watched him go, something inside her shifted.
This man—this dangerous, complicated man—had given her more than just a house or a party.
He had given her back her family.
Her happiness.
Himself.
And for the first time, Jessica didn’t just feel gratitude.
She felt love.
TO BE CONTINUED...

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 3
The night Jessica met Mr. Scar, the air smelled like danger and expensive cologne.
She had been in the VIP lounge of La Reine, the most exclusive club in Lagos, where rich men paid to forget their sins. Lady Lily had warned her about this job—*"Don’t ask questions. Don’t look him in the eye too long. Just be perfect."
But the moment he walked in, Jessica knew this man was different.
Mr. Scar wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense. His face was all sharp edges—a jagged scar running from his left eyebrow down to his jaw, a souvenir from a life lived in blood. His suit was black, tailored to fit his broad frame like a second skin, and his gold watch glinted under the dim lights.
But it was his eyes that froze her. Dark, calculating, the kind of eyes that saw everything.
He didn’t leer at her like the others. He studied her, like she was a puzzle he wanted to solve.
"You’re new," he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel.
Jessica forced herself to smile, the way she’d been trained. "First time here, sir."
He smirked, swirling his whiskey. "You’re lying."
Her pulse spiked.
For hours, they talked. Not the empty, lust-filled chatter of her usual clients, but *real* conversation—politics, books, even her studies. He listened when she spoke, his gaze never leaving her face.
"Why do you do this?" he asked suddenly.
Jessica hesitated. The truth sat heavy on her tongue—Because my family is starving. Because I have no choice.
But she gave him the practiced answer instead. "Money."
Mr. Scar laughed, but it wasn’t cruel. "Finally, an honest woman."
And just like that, she saw it—the flicker of interest in his eyes.
She had his attention.
And in his world, attention was dangerous.
Three nights later, Jessica was snatched off the street.
A black van screeched to a halt beside her, and before she could scream, gloved hands yanked her inside. A hood was thrown over her head.
When it was ripped off, she was in a warehouse, tied to a chair. A man in a crisp white suit—Mr. Scar’s rival, Kazeem—smiled down at her.
"Pretty thing," he mused, tapping her cheek with a knife. *"Scar likes you. That makes you useful."
Her blood turned to ice.
"Seduce him," Kazeem ordered. "Get the ledger with his black-market deals. Do it, and I’ll pay you triple what he ever could."
Jessica’s mind raced. If she refused, she was dead. If she agreed…
She was playing with fire.
She tried. God, she tried.
For a week, she met Mr. Scar—dinners, late-night drives, even his penthouse. She laughed at his jokes, let him touch her, all while searching for that damn ledger.
But he was smarter than she expected.
One evening, as she pretended to sleep in his bed, she heard him on the phone. "She’s working for Kazeem."
Her heart stopped.
The next thing she knew, a hand fisted in her hair, yanking her up. Mr. Scar’s face was a mask of cold fury.
"You ****** girl," he snarled. "Did you really think I wouldn’t know?"
Terror choked her. "I—I had no choice—"
"Everyone has a choice," he hissed. Then, to the guards looming behind him: "Take her."
The basement was damp; the walls stained with things Jessica didn’t want to think about.
Mr. Scar paced in front of her, his rage a living thing. "I trusted you," he spat, like the words tasted bitter.
Jessica shook, tears streaming. "They threatened me! I didn’t want to—"
"Liar." He backhanded her.
Pain exploded across her cheek. But worse than the sting was the betrayal in his eyes.
And then—
He stopped. Stared at her. Really looked at her.
For the first time, Jessica let him see the truth. The fear. The desperation. The shame.
Something in his expression shifted.
"Who owns you?" he demanded.
She swallowed blood. "No one."
A long silence. Then, slowly, he crouched in front of her, tilting her chin up.
"Wrong answer," he murmured. "Now you’re mine."
TO BE CONTINUED...

STOP TRYING TO PROVE LOVE WITHOUT RESOURCES

Listen, King — this world doesn’t honor your pure intentions.
It honors results.
And in a world run by survival, security, and social proof…
Love without provision is a liability.

Let’s unpack this painful truth:

1. A Woman May Appreciate Your Heart — But She Respects Your Hustle.
You can give her attention, affection, poetry, and prayers.
But when rent’s due, when emergencies hit, when her friends flex their soft life…
Your pure love won’t keep her loyal.
Resources sustain relationships — not sweet words.

2. Love Without Money Turns a Man into a Burden.
If you keep showing up broke, unavailable, or dependent,
You stop being a lover and start being another problem.
And trust me — no woman wants to babysit a man she can’t lean on.

3. Provision Isn’t About Luxury — It’s About Stability.
She’s not asking you to buy mansions and Bentleys.
She needs to know you can handle life.
That you can protect, provide, and lead when the storm comes.
Without that?
Your love is a beautiful poem in a sinking boat.

4. The Harsh Reality: Broke Men Are Easily Disrespected.
Even if she loves you today…
Pressure will test her.
Her family, friends, society — all will ask:
"Why are you wasting time with a man who can’t even sustain himself?"
And slowly, the disrespect creeps in.

5. Love Is a Seed — Money Is the Water.
Without resources to build, travel, grow, and secure the future,
Even the deepest love will wither.
Not because it wasn’t real —
But because it wasn’t protected.

---

FINAL WORD

Stop chasing women with empty pockets and full hearts.
In this game of life, love without provision is vulnerability.
You can’t give a woman a future if you’re still fighting for survival.

Build your kingdom first.
Then invite a worthy queen in.

Because a broke king is just another man in line for rejection.

Legacy first. Love later.

After years abroad, Nancy (Nancy Isime) returns home only to find that her mother (Shaffy Bello) is set to marry Nancy’s ex, Victor (Bolanle Ninalowo). Victor insists he never knew they were mother and daughter when he rekindled things with Mom. As wedding day nears, the shock deepens: Nancy discovers she’s pregnant with Victor’s child following a twisted night of passion. Torn between protecting her mother’s bliss and revealing a secret that could shatter their world, Nancy must decide how much she’s willing to sacrifice for family.

Breaking News

The CEO of Air India Campbell Wilson just announced that they will be giving out $114k dollars to all the families of the 241 passengers that lost their lives .

The sad thing is there is a couple that died with their children , surely their extended family will receive the cash .

Moral lesson : The guy who survived will also be given enough money to care for himself .

25 THINGS A WOMAN SHOULD SAY TO HER HUSBAND WITHOUT FEELING SHY.

1. Honey, let's make love...

2. Here are my free days...ovulation days...We can have r@w $€x as much as possible on days I'm free without getting pregnant (if you are using natural family planning method).

3. I need more money...
4. I don't like the way you chat with your ex...
5. I just sent some money to your account for you to enjoy yourself this weekend...
6. Pray for me...
7. Send more money to your mum...
8. I'm not comfortable with the way you touch ladies/give them too much attention...
9. Let's pray over this...
10. Kiss me...
11. I love how you make l0ve to me....
12. I love your p£nis...
13. You are so handsome...
14. Thanks for working hard to take care if us...
15. Your sacrifice for our wellbeing is beyond measure...you always amaze me...
16. Your $exy body turns me on...
17. You are such a man of wisdom! The Solomon of my life...
18. I love you...
19. Can you please, help me wash my panties... (when you are sick, tired, stressed and has no one else to help)
20. Thank you for asking me to marry you...
21. No man can ever catch my attention as you do...
22. You are the best of all male species the good Lord ever created...
23. You rock my world...
24. God bless your mother for giving birth to such a great man like you...
25. I love your mum...

And many more!

Why do some women find it difficult saying these to their husband's?