My mother confessed to me that the man who I thought was my uncle all my life was actually my brother, my elder brother.

Charles is my son, My first son; Your Brother!. My mother confessed to me.

How do you mean mom? What do you mean? How is that possible? I asked my mother. It's a long story Ayochidi, I will tell you all about it, but now I just have to get out of here and go confront Chief Okoye. My mother said to me.

How are you going to do that? I asked my mother. I will figure something out. She replied me. Mom, why you are figuring something out, I need to know how come Uncle Charles is my brother. Does he even know that you are his mother? I asked my mother. But instead I saw tears coming out of her eyes. He doesn't. My mother replied.

Why is everything about my family fvvcked up this bad. Why is everything difficult? I yelled at my mother.

Calm down. Ayochidi. Olivia said to me. The warden is monitoring my behavior.

Should I even believe that you are my mother? I asked my mother. Ayochidi the warden is looking at you. Calm down. Olivia said to me.

I'm your mother. Joyce said to me. I can't believe that. At this point I need a DNA test. I can't believe what ever word that comes out of your mouth. You have no difference with Angela or even Chief Okoye, All you guys do is lie upon lie. I don't even know who to believe anymore. I said.

Is everything alright here? The warden came and asked me. I nodded to yes. Everything is alright. Joyce said.

Everything is not alright. I'm out of here. I said as I left the prison.

Ayochidi I think you are overreacting, I mean your mother must have a reason for hiding the identity of Charles all this time. Olivia said to me.

She has no right, No one does. I won't blame you because you ain't in my shoes right now. I said to Olivia.

In your shoes? Really Ayochidi. Your shoes? I'm wearing the same exact shoes as you are, my life is in danger why because of I Love You. All because I care about you and here you are telling me about shoes? Shoes? Really? Shoes!. Olivia said and angrily went into the car.

At that point I realized I fvvcked up, But at the same time I was too angry apologize. I went into the car and Olivia didn't speak to me. She faced her side of the glass as I drove.

We drove back to Jide's house, Jide saw how angry Olivia is as she went upstairs to her room.

What happened? Jide asked me. Nothing just girls problem. Have you been able to track down Chief Okoye? I asked Jide. We are still working on that. Jide said.

It's seems like you are delaying, you are slowing down. You just have found and fished him out by now. I said to Jide. If it was that easy why don't you fish him out yourself Ayochidi? Guy don't shift your relationship problems to me. I don't know what is going on between you and your girl but I think you should go and apologize. Jide said to me.

At first I was reluctant. But Jide left me to go meet his boys. After few minutes of standing alone, I finally went upstairs to meet Olivia.

I saw she was sitted on the bed still angry as I came in.

"I'm sorry for what I said, I shouldn't have said what I said. I'm wrong. Forgive me babe. I said to Olivia. Ayochidi what you said is wrong. I have been through this struggle, this war with you from day one, And gaslighting me like that isn't fair. Olivia said.

I'm sorry my love. It won't happen again. I said as I went close and kissed Olivia. The kiss followed an intense romance. We ended up making out and sleeping off.

We were sleeping off when Jide came into the room tapping me to wake up. Ayochidi wake up. Jide said and immediately I sprung up.

Come to the living room. Jide said. And immediately I followed Jide to the living room and then Olivia came down after.

It was a TV news. Chief Okoye was found déad in an abandoned building and the culprit was found seriously injured.

When the image of the culprit appeared on the screen, I was shocked. My mother was the culprit. She was rushed to the hospital.

How did she escape from Prison?

Your shares is my biggest motivation to continue.

To Be Continued...

Title: Promise 30.

SEE WHAT A SLAY QUEEN NEIGHBOR DOES WITH HER NEIGHBORS' SON
Episode 3

Life was slowly beginning to change for Kobe after Auntie Merera’s arrest. The house felt different now. Even though his parents tried their best to smile and joke with him, Kobe could still feel the heavy silence in the air. Sometimes, he would wake up at night to hear his mother crying softly in the living room, whispering prayers for him.

The once lively Kobe was still struggling to return fully to the boy he had been. His nightmares were frequent — dreams where he would find himself trapped in Auntie Merera’s house, unable to escape no matter how loudly he screamed.

One afternoon, as Kobe sat quietly drawing pictures at the dining table, his father, Mr. Omari, came and sat beside him.

"Kobe," he said gently, "do you want to talk to Daddy about anything?"

Kobe put down his pencil and looked into his father's eyes. For the first time in months, he felt safe. But instead of speaking, he burst into tears. Mr. Omari immediately pulled him into a warm hug and allowed him to cry as much as he wanted. He did not interrupt him. He just held him tightly, rocking him gently.

From that day, Mr. and Mrs. Omari enrolled Kobe in a counseling center specifically for children who had faced trauma. It was there Kobe met Miss Clara, a young, friendly therapist who always wore colorful dresses and carried a little teddy bear with her to every session.

"This bear," Miss Clara would say, handing it to Kobe, "is called Brave. And you, Kobe, are Brave too."

At first, Kobe would barely speak during sessions, but Miss Clara was patient. Slowly, with time, Kobe began to open up more — not just about Auntie Merera, but about how abandoned he had felt when his parents were always working.

"I missed you both," Kobe said one evening as his parents sat with him at dinner. "Even before... everything happened."

Mr. and Mrs. Omari exchanged guilty looks. They realized that while they had been busy trying to secure Kobe’s future, they had neglected his present.

From that day forward, the Omari family made a new rule:
Family Time Every Evening.

No matter how busy work got, no matter how tired they were, they all had to spend two hours every evening together — playing board games, reading stories, cooking, or even just talking.

Gradually, the deep wounds in Kobe's heart began to heal. The nightmares became fewer. The smiles became more genuine. The bed-wetting reduced until one morning, Kobe woke up to a dry bed for the first time in months.

"Mummy! Daddy! Come and see!" he shouted excitedly.

When Mr. and Mrs. Omari rushed into his room and saw the clean sheets, they all burst into laughter and tears. They hugged and danced together right there in Kobe’s room.

At school, Auntie Anichi continued to check in on him often.

"Kobe, my champion," she would say, patting his head fondly. "You are so brave. Always remember that."

Meanwhile, news spread in the community about Auntie Merera’s arrest. Many parents became more cautious, and talks about child protection increased in the neighborhood.

One Saturday morning, Mr. Omari organized a Community Awareness Meeting at the town hall. He stood before the crowd and spoke from his heart.

"We almost lost our son," he said with a shaky voice. "We were too busy. Too trusting. And it cost us dearly. Please, let’s not assume that danger only comes from strangers. Sometimes, the greatest danger is someone you trust."

From that meeting, a new Neighborhood Watch group was formed. Volunteers patrolled after school hours, ensuring that children returned home safely. New rules were set: no child would stay alone with any adult without parental permission. The community finally woke up.

But despite the healing happening in Kobe's life, there was still one loose end — the court case.

Kobe was called to testify in court against Auntie Merera. It was a terrifying thought for a 10-year-old, but with Miss Clara and Auntie Anichi’s help, he prepared bravely.

The day he entered the courtroom, he felt his heart thudding heavily in his chest. Auntie Merera sat there, dressed simply, looking nothing like the happy neighbor he had once known.

"Kobe," the judge said kindly, "just tell us the truth. You are safe here."

With trembling hands but a strong voice, Kobe narrated everything — from the beginning to the end. Every adult in the courtroom listened in stunned silence. Some mothers sobbed quietly. Some men clenched their fists in anger.

By the end of the trial, Auntie Merera was found guilty of child sexual assault and sentenced to twenty-five years in prison with no option of parole.

It was over.

Really over.

As Kobe walked out of the courtroom, he felt the heavy burden that had been sitting on his chest lift for the first time. He was free.

Months passed.

Kobe returned fully to the vibrant boy he had once been — excelling in school, winning medals in soccer, laughing freely with his friends. He still visited Miss Clara occasionally, but it was now for happy talks, not heavy ones.

One evening, as he sat outside with his parents, looking at the sunset, he smiled and said, "I'm happy again."

Mr. and Mrs. Omari looked at each other with tears in their eyes, and his mother whispered, "Thank you, God, for giving us our son back."

To be continued...

To Be continued.....

Victory, dominion, and perfect health hallmark my daily life. I live in peace with prosperity because my mind continually stays on God’s Word. I do not worry about my health because the Lord has perfected all that concerns me.

I'm Alive!

My Ex Used My Nude Photos in Court to Shame Me Into Giving Up Custody
Episode 1

The courtroom smelled like polished wood, cold air, and judgment. I sat there, numb, heart pounding as my lawyer whispered strategy into my ear—but it all sounded like static. Across the aisle sat the man I once loved, the man I shared a home, a bed, and a child with—Seyi. Three years ago, I left him because I found a voice I didn’t know I had, because the bruises on my body weren’t just from fists but from silence, from a marriage that wore me thin until I barely existed. I took our daughter—our sweet, bubbly three-year-old Mide—and left. I stayed silent. I didn’t drag his name. I didn’t tell the world what he did. I just left. For peace. For safety. For healing. But peace doesn’t last when you leave behind a man like Seyi—he doesn’t accept silence as survival, only as betrayal. And now he was here, suing me for full custody, claiming I was unstable, reckless, “morally unfit to parent a girl.” And then he did the unthinkable. He submitted Exhibit C. A flash drive. The judge raised an eyebrow. Seyi’s lawyer—a smug, sharp-tongued woman in designer heels—walked to the front and calmly plugged it in. “Your Honor,” she said, “this is a crucial element of our argument regarding Ms. Adaobi’s moral fitness.” And then the screen came to life. My breath caught. My soul left my body. My naked body, taken in secret—photos I sent Seyi when we were newly married. When I still trusted him. When love meant openness. They appeared one by one on the courtroom screen. I covered my mouth. My lawyer jumped up, objecting furiously. But it was too late. The judge had seen. The jury had seen. My parents had seen. Even the court clerk looked away in pity. My knees buckled. I fell back into the chair. My ears rang. “This is revenge,” my lawyer barked. “This is a violation of privacy. Those images have no relevance—” “On the contrary,” Seyi’s lawyer cut in. “They show recklessness, sexual irresponsibility, and the kind of decisions that should concern anyone responsible for a child’s development.” “They were married!” my lawyer shouted. “Consensual! This is illegal revenge porn!” But the judge only cleared his throat. “Enough. I’ve seen enough. Ms. Adaobi, do you have anything to say for yourself?” I turned my face toward him slowly, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I trusted him,” I said softly. “I loved him. Those were private. That was my husband.” The judge said nothing. And I knew, in that moment, I had lost. Seyi never looked at me. He kept his gaze forward, as if he hadn’t just exposed my body to strangers in the name of “concern.” That night, I cried until I vomited. My mother held my hair back, her own tears silent and angry. “He will not win,” she said. But I knew better. Men like Seyi didn’t fight fair. They fought to humiliate. To destroy. To erase. The next hearing was worse. Seyi’s team introduced character witnesses—his new wife, his pastor, even one of my old friends who he had obviously bribed. They all painted me as unstable, seductive, a party girl. They spoke about photos he claimed he “found on my phone,” said I had “multiple lovers,” and I sat there, trembling, unable to breathe, watching the court believe him. I tried to speak. I told the truth. I said he hit me. I said I left because I feared for Mide’s safety. But I had no hospital records, no police reports—because I had been too ashamed to file them. And shame doesn’t win custody cases. Evidence does. And Seyi had twisted mine into a noose. Two days later, I got the judgment. Joint custody. Shared rights. Mandatory visitations. But there was more. The judge had also recommended I seek counseling before resuming full-time parental duties. I had to “rebuild my moral integrity in the eyes of the court.” In other words, I was being punished for being a woman who once loved a man enough to trust him with her body. And now he used that love to make me look like filth. I hugged Mide that evening as she slept, breathing her in like she might disappear. She was still mine, but I no longer felt like her mother. I felt like a prisoner with limited visitation rights. I thought the worst was over. But then I found out what Seyi did next. He leaked the photos to a parenting blog. My face blurred. My body exposed. The caption read: “This woman fought for custody. Would you trust your child with her?” My phone rang nonstop. My job issued a warning. My landlord gave me notice. And somewhere, in a mansion paid for by my pain, my ex smiled—and slept soundly beside a woman he would destroy next.

To be continued.:.:

The Lion of the tribe of Judah, thank you for making it possible to be awake.

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋: Cristiano’s goal sends Portugal into the FINAL of the Nations League.

A woman derives so much strength and zeal in her husband money.

Whether a woman has a lot of money or not, it's the role of a man to keep providing.

Don't let anyone cajoled you into believing that you can't succeed without depending on someone.

Anyone who is not part of your life struggling does not deserve your LOYALTY.

Don't let anyone make you feel less.

Don't envy anyone in life. Pray and work hard, you'll achieve the desired results.