*"Dear beloved followers of African Jokes and Stories,*

As we step into this new month, I want to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude to each and every one of you. Your love, support, and engagement have made this journey truly special.

I pray that this new month brings you joy, laughter, and abundant blessings from above. May God's favor and protection be upon you and your loved ones.

May our shared love for African jokes and stories continue to bring us together, inspire us, and remind us of the beauty of our diverse cultures.

Thank you for being part of this wonderful community. I'm honored to share laughter and stories with you.

Wishing you a blessed, happy, and prosperous new month!

*Best regards, [Izundu Chigozirim]

In the Benin tradition,it’s forbidden for a woman who is not a Queen (Oloi) or princess to touch the Oba. If she does, she automatically becomes his wife. If the the Oba don’t want her as a wife,she’s given to any Chief or Obas subject.
In 1956,the Oba waved this by shaking Queen Elizabeth of United Kingdom.

Culture is indeed dynamic .

Credit:Onion Edionwe

As a fluent speaker of Yoruba, Igbo, and Hausa, I hope to use my vast knowledge of the diverse cultures in Nigeria to promote harmonious relationships.
Happy new month. #grace

~@polyglotodulesi

“I was given food at the back door for ten years, not knowing that the girl they called ‘orphan’ would one day own the school.”

My name is Amarachi.

When I was six years old, I lost my parents to a fire. Our landlord said, “Your people are cursed. I can’t keep the daughter of a witch.” So, from Owerri to Port Harcourt, I lived under a bridge. I begged for food.

One morning, I saw a group of students wearing green uniforms entering a school: Royal Kingsway Academy. Their food smelled like glory. So I waited by the back door. A woman—the kitchen cleaner—passed me a nylon bag of jollof rice.

That became my routine. Every lunch hour, Mama Risi would sneak me leftovers—sometimes bones, sometimes breadcrumbs, but always with kindness.

I sat on a rock behind the school wall, listening to lessons through the cracks. I memorized poems and answered math questions aloud. They called me “Radiohead.”

One day, a teacher overheard me recite Shakespeare from the other side of the fence. He asked, “Who is she?” I ran away.

The next day, he brought me books, a notebook, and a pencil. In a low voice, he said to Mama Risi, “Start letting her sit at the back of Classroom 3. No one has to find out.”

So I started attending school unofficially—barefoot and invisible. After class, I swept the classrooms and mopped the hallways with Mama Risi. But I never missed a class. Not even when malaria tried to stop me.

When I was seventeen, the director asked, “Who registered this girl? She’s not on our list.”

Mama Risi lied, “She’s my niece.”

They let me sit for the WAEC exam using their surname. I got eight straight A’s. No celebration. No pictures. Just me, under the handle, holding my result and crying.

Years of silence followed, as I prepared my place in the world.

A few missionaries gave me a scholarship to study business administration in the UK. I graduated with honors. I started a logistics company in Nigeria, then expanded into agriculture and education.

Ten years later, my company bought a property in Port Harcourt.

The address?

Royal Kingsway Academy.

The school was bankrupt—salaries unpaid, buildings in ruins. I said nothing during the negotiation. I just signed the check.

The former principal greeted me at the door with a forced smile.

“Madam CEO, welcome.”

I looked at him and said, “I used to sit behind that wall… with jollof in a nylon bag.”

His smile faded.

We renovated every block, fixed every broken desk, raised teachers’ salaries, and invited the community to the reopening.

When the fabric on the new sign fell, gasps filled the air:

“Amarachi Risi Academy: Where Every Child Has a Seat.”

Mama Risi was by my side, crying like a baby.

I whispered, “They gave me bones. I made them a throne.”

Today, hundreds of students—some orphaned, some abandoned—study for free at our school.

No child eats alone.

No child learns outside a fence.

Because sometimes, the girl who was fed through a hole in the wall…

Comes back to buy the whole building—

and feed generations.

LOVE AND BULLET
PART 13
The address led to an abandoned textile factory on the outskirts of Lagos—its broken windows like hollow eyes staring into the night.
Ava stood in the shadows of a crumbling wall, the humid air thick with the scent of rust and rotting cotton. Her fingers tightened around the phone in her pocket, the screen still displaying that ominous message:
"Come alone."
She hadn’t.
Obinna and three of his most trusted men were positioned around the perimeter, hidden in the darkness. Sergeant Kola waited in an unmarked car two blocks away, NDLEA backup on standby.
Ava took a deep breath and stepped into the open.
"Show yourself!" Her voice echoed through the empty compound.
For a long moment, there was only silence.
Then—
A single light flickered on above the factory doors, illuminating a figure seated casually on a plastic chair.
"Ava Carter." The voice was smooth, cultured. Familiar. "Or should I call you Lola now?"
Ava’s blood turned to ice.
Commissioner Dike.
But not the broken man they’d left bleeding in the evidence room. This version was polished—custom suit, gold cufflinks, his smile as sharp as a razor.
And behind him, emerging from the shadows like ghosts, were six armed men.
No.
Not men.
NDLEA special ops.
"You didn’t really think it would be that easy, did you?" Dike chuckled, crossing his legs like they were at a business meeting instead of a deserted factory. "A few leaked documents, some resignations—you barely scratched the surface."
Ava forced her voice steady. "Then enlighten me."
Dike leaned forward, his eyes glinting. "This was never about drugs or money. It’s about control. The people on your list? They don’t run this country. We do. And you?" He smirked. "You’re just a loose end."
Ava’s pulse pounded. "If you wanted me dead, you’d have done it already."
"True." Dike stood, brushing invisible dust from his trousers. "But Obinna Eze is worth more to us alive. And you?" His smile turned cruel. "You’re the perfect bait."
Ava barely had time to process the words before the warehouse doors burst open behind Dike—
And Obinna staggered out, his hands bound, a gun pressed to his temple by a masked operative.
No.
Her stomach dropped.
They’d known. They’d known about the ambush, about Kola, about everything.
Dike’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then laughed. "Ah. It seems your Sergeant friend won’t be joining us after all."
They forced Ava to her knees in the dirt, the cold barrel of a gun pressing into the back of her skull.
Obinna’s gaze locked onto hers, his eyes blazing with silent fury—not at their captors, but at her, for walking into this trap.
Dike crouched in front of her, his cologne sickly sweet. "Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to call off your little crusade. You’re going to disappear. And in return?" He patted her cheek. "Your beloved drug lord gets to keep breathing."
Ava’s nails dug into her palms hard enough to draw blood.
She could lie. Play along.
But one look at Obinna’s face told her he’d rather die than let these monsters win.
So she smiled.
"Wrong answer."
The first explosion rocked the compound like an earthquake.
Dike’s men stumbled as the factory’s east wall erupted in flames, the shockwave sending debris raining down.
Ava didn’t hesitate—she lunged, driving her elbow into the kneecap of the man behind her. His gun went off, the shot whipping past her ear as she rolled and came up swinging.
Obinna moved like lightning, snapping his bonds on the edge of a broken pipe and tackling his guard to the ground.
Chaos erupted.
Gunfire. Shouting. The roar of spreading flames.
Through the smoke, Ava saw Dike scrambling for a fallen pistol—
She dove, tackling him just as his fingers brushed the grip. They crashed into the dirt, rolling, punching, tearing at each other like wild animals.
Dike was stronger than he looked.
His fist connected with her jaw, sending stars exploding across her vision.
"You ****** girl," he spat, pinning her down. "You could have walked away!"
Ava grinned through the blood in her mouth. "I don’t know how."
Then she headbutted him with everything she had.
The fire raged.
Sirens wailed in the distance—too late, as always.
Ava staggered to her feet, coughing smoke from her lungs. Around her, the factory burned, illuminating the bodies of Dike’s men.
Obinna emerged from the haze, his face streaked with soot and blood.
"Dike?" he rasped.
Ava shook her head. "Gone."
The commissioner had vanished into the night, like the coward he was.
But the war wasn’t over.
It had just begun.
TO BE CONTINUED...

Laide Bakare Assumes Office as Senior Special Assistant to Osun Governor

Nollywood actress Laide Bakare has officially begun her tenure as Senior Special Assistant to the Osun State Governor on Entertainment, Art, Culture, and Tourism.

Bakare was spotted at her official desk, poised to tackle her new responsibilities.

She expressed gratitude to Governor Ademola Adeleke for the appointment, marking the beginning of her political career.

Bakare has vowed to deliver exceptional results, and her fans eagerly anticipate her impact on Osun State's entertainment sector.

Despite anticipated challenges, Bakare remains optimistic about her future and the opportunities her new role presents.

Akinwumi Isola: Professor who stood for the Yoruba people, his last words

Until he left the world on February 17, 2018 at 78, Professor Akinwunmi Isola championed and promoted the Yoruba culture and language with his literary works. In 1986, he wrote and composed the college anthem that is currently sung in Wesley College Ibadan.

Among his works are:
Agogo Eèwò (2002) as Ifa Priest.
Sawo-Segberi (2005).
The Campus Queen (2004) as Professor.
Thunderbolt: Magun (2001) as Professor.
Brass Bells (1999) as Babalawo.
Efunsetan Aniwura (1981).
Efunsetan Aniwura (2005).

Isola was born in Ibadan on December 24, 1939, he studied at the University of Ibadan, earning a B.A. in French and was appointed professor at Obafemi Awolowo University in 1991. Isola wrote his first play, Efunsetan Aniwura around 1961-62 while still a student at the University of Ibadan. This was followed by a novel, O Le Ku.

He ventured into broadcasting at a time, creating a production company that has turned a number of his plays into television dramas and films.

On May 4, 2015, his book Herbert Macaulay and the Spirit of Lagos was staged at the Performing Arts Theatre of the University of Ilorin in Kwara State.

In 2000, in recognition of his immense contributions, he was awarded the National Merit Award and appointed a Fellow of the Nigerian Academy of Letters. He was also a visiting professor at the University of Georgia.

BEAUTIFUL MOMENT HE PASSED AWAY

A day before his passing, his wife, Mrs Adebola Isola, said he ate amala and gbegiri and finished everything. The next day, around 9am after his bath, Mrs. Isola fed him with custard.

However, unlike before, he only took a little and continued saying: "Thank you, my wife." She didn't take it seriously at first because he had always appreciated her that way. But when he continued non-stop, she had to call his doctor and the children who were in Lagos.

She and the nurse who had bathed him earlier, decided to move him from the chair to the bed. Immediately his body touched the bed, he departed the world.

LAGOS AND ITS ESCALATING SYSTEMIC IGBOPHOBIA— It’s Time For Us To Get Off This Unruly Horse: Tribal Politics [By Mayor of Fadeyi]

When a govt starts renaming streets to erase Igbo identity in Lagos, you know tribal madness has jumped the fence.

Let’s talk about it. 👇🏿
@OfficialAPCNg @OfficialPDPNig @ADCcoalition @officialABAT @atiku @PeterObi @akintollgate @DeleFarotimi @NaijaLivesMattr
#notoigbophobia

2. There is no denying it anymore. Something ugly is brewing in Lagos.

This isn’t really about street signs.
It’s about the subtle—and sometimes not so subtle—cleansing of Igbo presence from Lagos public life.

And it all escalated after the 2023 elections when many Igbos backed a non-APC candidate.


3. The Igbo haters may deny it, but Igbos have been partners in Lagos for decades.

They bled, built, and bankrolled major parts of the commercial strength of Lagos.

Yet today, they’re being treated like unwanted guests in the very house they helped construct.
4/ Many Yorubas may deny this, but here are 9 ways Lagos is currently marginalizing Igbos:
(1) Renaming Igbo-associated streets/landmarks
(2) Targeted demolitions in Igbo markets (Alaba, Ladipo, Trade Fair)
(3) Exclusion from state governance
(4) Voter intimidation during elections
(5) Thugs threatening “non-Yorubas” not to vote
(6) Media framing Igbos as invaders or overambitious
(7) Igbo culture/events getting sidelined
(8) Ethnic profiling during market raids
(9) Hostile political rhetoric against Igbos in Lagos politics

6/ In my humble opinion, this isn’t just wrong.
It’s dangerous.
You don’t marginalize the community that holds up your economy—and expect peace.
This isn’t Yoruba pride. It’s Yoruba insecurity wearing agbada.
7/
Let me say it straight:
This road leads to economic sabotage, cultural apartheid, and political instability.
It strengthens extremists like Nnamdi Kanu and weakens democracy itself.
8/ Igbos in Lagos are not squatters.
They are stakeholders.
If you silence them, remove their names, bulldoze their markets, and disenfranchise their votes—
You’re not defending Lagos.
You’re destroying it.
9/ As a proud Yoruba man, I say this with love and pain:
This is not who we are.
Yorubas have always been tolerant, dignified, and honorable.

But this wave of Igbophobia is a shame to our ancestors.

10/
It’s time to dismount from the unruly horse of tribal politics in Lagos.

Before that horse throws us all off a cliff.

Let Lagos return to being a megacity of inclusion—not a tribal playground of fear.

#MayorOfFadeyi ✊🏿

I’ve been meaning to ask Nigerians, not just the youths, but everyone. Do we have something against working with leaders who are intelligent, coherent, and truly present?

Leaders who understand their people, culture, and needs and are mentally alert enough to govern with clarity and purpose?

Because, frankly, we seem more comfortable with leaders we have to cover for 'leaders' whose inadequacies we constantly excuse, defend, or spin into myths.

Why do we normalize incompetence and fear brilliance?

TOPIC - IVF (In Vitro Fertilization)

IVF (In Vitro Fertilization) is a type of assisted reproductive technology (ART) where an egg is fertilized with sperm outside the body. Implications for women:

Positive implications:
1. Increased chances of pregnancy: IVF can help women with infertility issues conceive.
2. Treatment for various infertility causes: IVF can address issues like blocked tubes, endometriosis, or low sperm count.
3. Age is not a barrier: IVF can be an option for women over 35 or 40.

Negative implications:
1. Physical and emotional stress: IVF can be physically demanding and emotionally taxing.
2. Financial burden: IVF can be expensive, and insurance coverage may vary.
3. Risk of multiple pregnancies: IVF increases the risk of twins, triplets, or more.
4. Potential side effects: Medications used in IVF can cause side effects like mood swings, bloating, or ovarian hyper stimulation syndrome (OHSS).

IVF Cycle Types:
1. Fresh cycle: Using fresh eggs and sperm.
2. Frozen cycle: Using frozen embryos or eggs.
3. Donor cycle: Using donor eggs or sperm.

Other considerations:
1. Success rates: IVF success rates vary depending on age, health, and other factors.
2. Emotional preparation: Women should be prepared for the emotional ups and downs of IVF.

Who might benefit from IVF:
1. Women with infertility issues
2. Women with blocked fallopian tubes
3. Women with endometriosis
4. Women over 35 or 40 seeking pregnancy

Let's dive deeper into IVF:

IVF Process:
1. Ovarian Stimulation: Medications stimulate the ovaries to produce multiple eggs.
2. Egg Retrieval: Eggs are retrieved through a minor surgical procedure.
3. Sperm Collection: Sperm is collected from the male partner.
4. Fertilization: Eggs and sperm are mixed in a laboratory dish.
5. Embryo Culture: Fertilized eggs (embryos) are cultured for 3-5 days.
6. Embryo Transfer: One or more embryos are transferred to the woman's uterus.

Benefits:
1. Increased chances of pregnancy: IVF can help women with infertility issues conceive.
2. Treatment for various infertility causes: IVF can address issues like blocked tubes, endometriosis, or low sperm count.
3. Age is not a barrier: IVF can be an option for women over 35 or 40.

Risks and Side Effects:
1. Ovarian Hyper stimulation Syndrome (OHSS): Medications can cause OHSS, a potentially serious condition.
2. Multiple Pregnancies: IVF increases the risk of twins, triplets, or more.
3. Emotional Stress: IVF can be emotionally taxing.
4. Physical Side Effects: Medications can cause side effects like mood swings, bloating, or cramping.

Success Rates:
1. Age-specific success rates: Success rates vary significantly with age.
- Women under 35: Higher success rates (around 47% per cycle)
- Women 35-37: Success rates around 37% per cycle
- Women 38-40: Success rates around 24% per cycle
- Women over 40: Lower success rates (around 10% per cycle)
2. Health: Underlying health conditions can affect success rates.
3. Number of Cycles: Success rates may improve with multiple cycles.

Who Might Benefit from IVF:
1. Infertility Issues: Women with infertility issues, such as blocked tubes or endometriosis.
2. Unexplained Infertility: Couples with unexplained infertility.
3. Male Factor Infertility: Men with low sperm count or poor sperm quality.
4. Women Over 35: Women over 35 or 40 seeking pregnancy.

Alternatives and Complementary Therapies:
1. IUI (Intrauterine Insemination): A less invasive procedure where sperm is inserted into the uterus.
2. Donor Eggs or Sperm: Using donor eggs or sperm can be an option.
3. Surrogacy: Another option for women who cannot carry a pregnancy.

Emotional Support:
1. Counseling: Emotional support and counseling can help cope with stress.
2. Support groups: Connecting with others going through similar experiences.

I’ve been meaning to ask Nigerians, not just the youths, but everyone. Do we have something against working with leaders who are intelligent, coherent, and truly present?

Leaders who understand their people, culture, and needs and are mentally alert enough to govern with clarity and purpose?

Because, frankly, we seem more comfortable with leaders we have to cover for than 'leaders' whose inadequacies we constantly excuse, defend, or spin into myths.

Why do we normalize incompetence and fear brilliance?

~@YeleSowore

"Culture isn’t what’s written in the handbook — it’s how people act when deadlines are tight."