I marry early, just 20 years old.
My husband na 24 that time.

We love ourself well-well.

E no even reach one month for our marriage, I don carry belle.

We happy as young couple wey dey expect their first pikin. We prepare everything down for the baby.

But na for delivery room my joy begin turn to pain.

I labour for almost 3 days.
When I finally born, na baby boy, but the baby come weak.

Two hours later, my pikin d!e.
I cry tire.
My husband too cry.

But we encourage ourself say, "We go try again."

Six months later, I carry belle again.
After 9 months — another stillbirth.

Third belle, the same thing happen.

Na so my family say, “This marriage no be for you. Come out, go complete your university.”

But I refuse. I love my husband. I believe say better go still happen.

Some people say na spiritual matter.
We begin waka from church to prophet, prayer upon prayer.

Prophet assure us say “This time, e go work.” I carry belle again, the fourth one.

I born the baby, the baby even cry small, but by evening the baby d!e.

Doctor call am “sudden infant death.” No explanation. Just fear.

Na that period doctor advise say make we give gap before we try again.

I tell my husband make we try adopt for now.
Him agree.

I call my cousin wey say she dey work for one motherless home. We give her over 1.6 million. Na so she dupe us carry money vanish.

My husband vex.
Say him no even believe for adoption before, na just to please me. Him say make I no ask am money again.

I begin follow the matter spiritually again.
Different prophecies, no solution.

One day, my friend tell me about one doctor for East wey young girls dey born give away babies for money.

Baby Boy na 1.5 million, girl na 1 million.
She say e legit.

I tell my husband, he say, "I no dey interestedand i no get any money to bring out."

I go borrow money.
I give my friend 600k as first payment.

One week later, na online I see video of my friend—dem dey beat her say she thief her neighbor pikin wan carry come give me.

I shock.
My heart cut.

I run go show my husband. He say, "Better no involve me for this matter"

Next day, police land arrest me.

My husband say, “Follow them go. I go get lawyer.”

I call my family, dem say, “As you no hear word when we try rescue you, make Love bail you out now.”

Just like play, I land prison.
No lawyer.
No family.

My husband visit me only 3 times. After that, silence.

My friend wey thief the baby, her people raise money bail her.

She promise to help me too. Nothing happen.

I stay 5 years for prison for matter I no understand finish.

Just because say I want born, just because say I no get patience, just because say I trust wrong people.

Different NGO dey come prison.
Dem go give us food, tissue, pad — and hope.

Many promise to help me after I share my story. But nothing come out.

Until one day, one woman wey be women advocate listen to me.

She promise to help. I no believe, but she really help me comot from jail.

When I reach house, my husband don move.
Don remarry with three children already.

When I go see am, him say make I find peace. Say our fate no match.

That day, I wan just disappear. I tell the woman wey help me. She say, “Come stay with me.”

She encourage me. Enrol me back for catering school make I refresh my baking skills.
From there I start my small baking business.

But inside me, I still dey cry.
I no even fit look mirror.
I don lose shape, lose beauty, lose hope.

One day, I go deliver wedding cake.

As i reach the venue the people bounce me — say I no fit enter because I look “dirty.” That day, I cry reach house.

I tell myself, “I go change this story.”

I download Pinterest app, dey learn how to dress my body type.

I watch make-up beginners videos.
I start to buy small affordable good clothes.

I begin dey apply simple makeup.
I switch to skin care wey dey moisturize my skin.

I begin see my beauty again.

Customers begin notice.
Begin compliment me.

I start dey take pictures. I start dey smile.

My self-confidence begin return.

One day, I go deliver cake again.
I dress well.

The bride say I fine. Na there one man collect my number, say na for business.

But na love him come find.

Him fine, young, tall — and kind.
I open up tell am everything.

He say, “Your past no be your name.
Let’s build something new.”

Today, I don marry again.
I don born two boys through CS operation.

Dem survive.
My first son na 4 years, second one 2 years.

My husband say no need to born again — these ones complete us. And truly, I no need anything else again.

I don finally become mama.

Today I dey grateful say After all my tough challenges God still change my story.

---

To every woman wey don carry belle with joy but return house empty-handed — this message na for you.

The pain of stillbirth no be small thing.

Na one deep wound wey only God fit understand.

Sometimes you go dey ask, “Why me?” Sometimes the silence go loud, the tears go come uninvited.

But make you hear this one: you never fail.
Your womb no betray you.

Your heart still be the heart of a mother.

And even if the world no see your kind of pain, God see am, and He go still comfort you in ways wey go shock you.

To the women wey don lose their self-esteem because dem no get money take take care of their body, or childbirth don change the way dem look —

My sister, remember say your beauty no end for body.

Start small, love yourself again, dress well, start with your budget, manage your weight if necessary.

Self love dey build back self esteem

You go rise again and glow in your own time.

To the women wey their husband don abandon them —

No carry your life hang for one person wey walk away.

God never walk away from you.

Stand up, dust your pain, start again.
Look good, take care of yourself.
You still fit laugh again, love again, and shine again.

To Every Woman and Family wey dey fight silent battles —

May God surprise you with joy wey go wipe all your secret tears.
Amen.

@highlight

THE LAST PROMISE
PART 7
Mary hadn’t slept properly in days.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Andre leaning in, the warmth of his breath, the scent of his cologne—too close, too soon. She had replayed that moment in the restaurant over and over, her stomach twisting with guilt and something else she refused to name.
Her phone lay silent on the nightstand. She had turned it off after the fifth missed call from Andre. She couldn’t face him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
But fate had other plans.
The sound startled her.
Mary frowned, setting down the cup of tea she had been nursing. Visitors were rare these days. Aunty Biola usually called before coming, and her neighbors had long stopped checking in.
She padded to the door in her slippers, pulling her wrapper tighter around her shoulders.
"Who is it?" she called.
No answer.
Then, another knock—firmer this time.
Cautiously, she peered through the peephole.
And froze.
Andre.
Dressed in a simple black shirt and jeans, his expression unreadable. He looked tired, his usual polished appearance slightly ruffled, as if he hadn’t slept either.
Mary’s heart pounded.
She shouldn’t open the door.
She wouldn’t.
But her traitorous hands moved before her mind could stop them.
The door creaked open.
for a long moment, they just stared at each other.
Andre broke the silence first.
"You’ve been ignoring me," he said quietly.
Mary crossed her arms. "I needed space."
"For three days?"
"Yes."
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Mary, I’m sorry about what happened at the restaurant. I shouldn’t have—"
"No, you shouldn’t have," she cut in, her voice sharper than she intended. "That was *not* what I agreed to. I only went because of Kelvin’s letter. Not because I—" She stopped, swallowing hard.
"Not because you what?" Andre pressed, stepping closer.
Mary took a step back. "Andre, please. Just go."
"No."
The word was firm, final.
Before she could react, Andre closed the distance between them and pulled her into a hug.
Mary stiffened, her hands trapped between them. "Let go of me!"
But he didn’t. His arms were warm, solid, his heartbeat steady against her ear.
"Calm down," he murmured. "Just breathe."
And against her will, she did.
The tension seeped out of her slowly, her rigid posture softening. She hated how good it felt—how safe.
After a moment, Andre loosened his grip, just enough to look down at her.
"I like you, Mary," he said simply.
Her breath hitched.
"I know it’s too soon. I know you’re still grieving. And I’m not asking for anything more than you can give." He paused. "But at least let us be friends. That’s all. Just friends."
Mary searched his eyes, looking for any hint of deception. But all she saw was sincerity—and patience.
A small, traitorous part of her melted.
How long had it been since someone saw her? Since someone cared enough to chase her, even when she pushed them away?
She looked away, playing with the edge of her wrapper. "Just friends?"
Andre smiled—a real, relieved smile. "Just friends."
Mary hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Friends."
But even as she said it, she knew she was lying.
And from the way Andre’s eyes crinkled at the corners, he knew it too.
Andre didn’t leave immediately.
He stayed for tea, filling the silence with easy conversation—about work, about the weather, about nothing important. Mary found herself laughing at something he said, then immediately clamping her mouth shut, as if surprised by the sound.
Andre noticed.
"You have a beautiful laugh," he said softly.
Mary’s cheeks warmed. "Don’t."
"Don’t what?"
"Don’t say things like that."
He leaned back in his chair, studying her. *"Why not? It’s true."
"Because we’re just friends, remember?" she said pointedly.
Andre held her gaze. "Friends can compliment each other."
Mary huffed, but there was no real annoyance behind it.
When Andre finally stood to leave, he paused at the door.
"I’ll call you tomorrow," he said.
Mary folded her arms. "I might not answer."
He grinned. "You will."
And with that infuriating confidence, he was gone.
Mary stood there long after the door closed, her heart racing.
She was in trouble.
Because for the first time since Kelvin’s death, she was excited for tomorrow.
TO BE CONTINUED...

My dear, let’s be real, looking sexy and having curves everywhere might attract men, but it won’t keep them. If that’s all you’re banking on, you’re only deceiving yourself. Being hot might get their attention, but it takes more than a banging body to build something lasting.

Men, the serious ones are looking for value. They want a woman who has sense, who can hold a meaningful conversation, who can contribute to growth and be a partner, not just a trophy. What happens when beauty fades or when they meet someone even hotter?

So instead of relying on your hips and fine face alone, work on your character. Build your mind. Add skills. Have something that gives you confidence beyond your looks. Let them stay because of how you make them feel, how you support them, how you handle life, not just how you look in a dress. Remember, beauty might catch the eye, but value keeps the heart. Don’t sell yourself short.

- Chioma Akpotha

THE LAST PROMISE
PART 3
.Six months had passed since Kelvin left, but for Mary, it felt like yesterday.
She still woke up reaching for him in the middle of the night. She still set two plates on the table out of habit before remembering. The house was too quiet, too empty, too full of memories that haunted her like ghosts.
Friends and family had stopped checking in as often. "Time will heal," they said. But time didn’t heal. It just made the pain duller, heavier—like a stone settled deep in her chest.
And then came the memorial service.
The church was filled with people dressed in white—Kelvin’s favorite color. His photo stood at the front, smiling that warm, familiar smile that made Mary’s throat tighten. She sat in the front row, clutching a folded handkerchief, her eyes dry only because she had no tears left.
People spoke about him—his kindness, his laughter, his courage during his illness. Mary listened, but their words felt distant, like they were talking about a man she used to know, not the one who had held her every night.
Then, a man she had never seen before stood up to speak.
Tall, well-dressed, with a quiet confidence that made people turn their heads. His voice was deep, steady.
"Kelvin was my closest friend," he said.
Mary stiffened.
Closest friend? She had known Kelvin since they were teenagers. She knew every friend, every story, every secret. But she had never—never—heard of this man.
After the service, people gathered outside, sharing stories and condolences. Mary watched as the stranger—Andre—moved through the crowd with ease, shaking hands, smiling softly at memories she wasn’t part of.
Her heart pounded. Who was he?
She waited until most people had left before approaching him.
"Excuse me," she said, her voice firmer than she expected. "I don’t think we’ve met."
He turned, his dark eyes meeting hers. For a second, something flickered in his gaze—something like guilt? Sadness?
"Mary," he said, as if he already knew her. "I’m Andre. Kelvin… he spoke about you all the time."
A cold knot formed in her stomach. "I’ve never heard of you."
Andre hesitated, then sighed. "We weren’t… public friends. But we were close. Very close."
Mary’s hands clenched. "How close?"
He looked away, then back at her, his expression unreadable. "Close enough that he asked me to check on you after…" He trailed off.
Mary’s breath caught.
Kelvin had sent him?
Andre reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope. "He asked me to give you this. Six months after."
Mary took it, her fingers trembling. Her name was written in Kelvin’s handwriting.
She looked up at Andre, her voice barely a whisper. "Who are you really?"
He held her gaze, his own filled with something she couldn’t name. "Someone who made a promise to a dying man."
And before she could ask anything else, he walked away, leaving her standing there with a letter that suddenly felt too heavy to open.
TO BE CONTINUED...

Dear Son,
One day you’ll have money in your hands. Maybe a lot. Maybe not. But I hope by then you’ve already learned that real wealth isn’t something you can hold.

You’ll meet people who have cars but no peace. Clothes but no confidence. A full house but an empty heart. And if you’re not careful, you’ll chase the same things and still feel like something’s missing.

So here’s what I’ll tell you early ; if you want to feel rich, count what you have that money can’t buy. A mind that’s calm. A heart that forgives. People who show up when you have nothing to give them back. Health that lets you move. Time that hasn’t been wasted.

Those are the things that matter. Everything else fades.

Dear Son,

One day you’ll have money in your hands. Maybe a lot. Maybe not. But I hope by then you’ve already learned that real wealth isn’t something you can hold.

You’ll meet people who have cars but no peace. Clothes but no confidence. A full house but an empty heart. And if you’re not careful, you’ll chase the same things and still feel like something’s missing.

So here’s what I’ll tell you early ; if you want to feel rich, count what you have that money can’t buy. A mind that’s calm. A heart that forgives. People who show up when you have nothing to give them back. Health that lets you move. Time that hasn’t been wasted.

Those are the things that matter. Everything else fades.

Dear girls, listen carefully...

Education is the only husband that will never cheat on you, never hit you with silence, never pack up and leave when life gets hard. It won’t gaslight you, betray you, or make you question your worth. Education won’t demand you shrink yourself, won’t get jealous of your growth, and it won’t make you beg for respect you already deserve. It’ll be your protection when life tries to humble you. Your confidence when the world tries to dim your light. Your backup plan when love fails, when people change, when life throws curveballs.
So, study. Focus. Build your mind like your life depends on it... because in so many ways, it does.
Let your degrees be your dowry. Let your knowledge be your security. Let your ambition be your standard.
Because a man can walk away .... even the one who promised forever. But your education? That’s yours. It won’t get up one morning and say, “I don’t love you anymore.” It won’t disappear when you're at your lowest. It grows with you... and it keeps on giving.
So, while you pray for love... pray harder for wisdom. Because education is the one commitment that will never break your heart

Rise and Shine"
"You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden." - Matthew 5:14

Today, remember that you have a purpose and a light within you. Your unique gifts, talents, and experiences make you special.

Reflection:
1. Identify your strengths: What are you good at? How can you use those strengths today?
2. Set goals: What do you want to achieve today? Make a plan and take action.
3. Shine your light: How can you positively impact someone's life today?

Affirmation:
"I am capable, I am strong, and I am enough. Today, I will shine my light and make a difference."

Prayer:
Dear God, thank You for this new day. Give me the courage to pursue my dreams, the wisdom to make good choices, and the heart to serve others. Amen.

May this devotion motivate you to tackle your day with confidence and purpose!

Am telling you with full confidence

We often teach our daughters to protect their bodies, but we forget to teach them to guard their minds.

I was speaking with one of the ladies in my circle who lamented how her daughter bold, beautiful, and full of promise had started to doubt herself.

Not because she wasn't doing well,

But because of the words someone casually threw at her in school.

"You're doing too much."
"You're acting like you know it all."
"You're not even that smart."

Now here's the thing, her mother had taught her to say NO to wrong touches,

But no one prepared her to say NO to mental manipulation.

To walk away from people who clip her wings with their words.

To challenge lies spoken over her potential.

We protect the physical, but forget the psychological.

And both are important.

Teach your daughters that not every voice should have a seat in their mind.

That guarding their space is not pride, it’s wisdom.

That shining brightly isn’t arrogance, it’s purpose.

Raising powerful girls means we raise sound thinkers, not just modest dressers.

Let’s not leave their confidence up to chance.

- Protect their minds.

- Build their voice.

- Strengthen their inner world.

Because that’s where real power lives.

Let's raise Queens who know their standards and aren't afraid to reach for the sky.

Keep being amazing