The Harsh Truths About MEN Nobody Wants to Admit. 1. Men are only loved based on what they provide. A man without money, status, or value is invisible to society—even to his own family. 2. Men don’t get sympathy, only expectations. A struggling man is mocked, not helped. The world doesn’t care about his pain—only his productivity. 3. If a man fails, he is on his own. No safety net, no pity. A failed man is seen as useless, even by those who once praised him. 4. Men are only as good as their last achievement. Your past success means nothing if you can’t maintain it. The moment you fall, you become irrelevant. 5. Nobody teaches men how to deal with emotions. Society says “Be a man,” but never explains how to handle pain, stress, or heartbreak. 6. Men are judged by results, not effort. Nobody cares how hard you try—if you don’t succeed, you’re just making excuses. 7. Men must build themselves from scratch. No handouts, no shortcuts. A man must create his own value or be ignored. 8. Men’s problems are seen as complaints. If a man speaks about his struggles, he’s called weak. If he stays silent, he suffers alone. 9. Men are replaceable. In relationships, jobs, and even families—if a man can’t provide, he’s discarded like an old tool. 10. A man’s worth is always conditional. No matter how much he loves, gives, or sacrifices, his value is always tied to what he can do. This is the brutal reality. A man must level up, stay strong, and never expect handouts. Because in the end… Nobody is coming to save you. Copied

Immediately after my wedding, barely a few weeks in, someone I knew called and said he had sent a monetary gift for me through a close friend of mine. My heart leaped — because at that point, I was swimming in debt from the wedding. I called my friend. He confirmed receiving the money. I thanked him and sent my account details immediately. But he shocked me. He said, “I won’t send the money to you.” I laughed — thinking it was a joke. But he was dead serious. “I won't send it until you’re ready to collect what I bought with it,” he added. I was confused. I called and called. He kept repeating the same thing. His tone got cold, almost dismissive. It hurt me more than I can explain. I called the person who had sent the money, told him what my friend was doing. He seemed surprised but told me to reach out to my friend again. I was furious. I decided to cut both of them off. A few days passed. Then one night, my friend called again. I ignored it. He called again. And again. My phone rang until it felt like it would vibrate off the table. I switched it off. He kept calling for days. Eventually, I blocked him — on calls, on chats, on life. I told myself: He betrayed me. He stole from me. Six months later, I felt the weight of the silence. I realized how much I missed him — my friend, my brother. So I went to his house. They told me he had moved. Gone. No one knew where he went. No forwarding address. No explanation. I was angry all over again. I concluded he had run away with the money. That he had played me. Even though I had moved on from the money, the betrayal began to rot inside me again like an old wound reopened. Three years later. I was stuck in Lagos traffic, heading to the Island. I saw someone on the other lane. Something about the posture, the shape of his head, the way he tilted slightly to the right. But… he was in a wheelchair. I told myself, “It can’t be him. He wasn’t like that before.” Still, I begged the driver to stop. My heart was pounding as I crossed the road. I walked closer. He turned. It was him. My friend. In a wheelchair. Before I could speak, he wheeled toward me and hugged me. No hesitation. No resentment. Just warmth. And pain. I stood there, stunned. My mouth dry. My hands weak. I had rehearsed this day in my head, where I’d scream at him, call him a thief, ask if karma crippled him. But I said nothing. Then he pulled a backpack from behind his chair. Slowly, he brought out a faded blue file. He handed it to me. I opened it — and inside were land documents. And pictures of an uncompleted building. My eyes scanned the papers. It was my name written all over the documents. Not his. Not his wife’s. Mine. “I didn’t want you to waste the money Aunty sent on clearing wedding debts,” he said quietly. “So I bought land in your name... so you could become a landlord like me.” My hands trembled. My lips quivered. I dropped to the floor right there on the roadside and began to cry. He sat quietly in his chair. His face was tired. His eyes sunken. “You insulted me,” he said calmly. “You insulted my wife too. You called us thieves. But it was her idea. The night we tried to call you… I had just been in an accident. I was lying in the back of a tricycle, bleeding, and told her to call you.” He paused. “You didn’t pick.” I cried harder. “When my wife died in the hospital… I called again. That’s when I found out you had blocked me. You blocked me everywhere.” There were no tears in his eyes. Just silence. And truth. “I never stole from you. I am not your enemy. I was trying to protect your future. But money… money will always reveal how deep the love truly runs.” He turned and wheeled away. A cab stopped. He got in and left. Just like that. I’ve never stepped foot in that house he built in my name. I can’t. Not until I see him again. Not until I hold him and say the words I never said. I’m sorry. Please… don’t be quick to assume people have ghosted you. Don’t jump to conclusions. Sometimes, the silence is a scream for help you ignored. Sometimes, the person you thought betrayed you was the one holding your future in their hands. Sometimes, people disappear not to rob you — but because **life hit them harder than they could bear. Before you block someone forever — ask them why. You never know the battles they were silently fighting… for you. The End. #copied

Learn Basic Microsoft Word Keys Basic Editing: Ctrl + A: Select all contents of the page. Ctrl + C: Copy selected text. Ctrl + X: Cut selected text. Ctrl + V: Paste copied or cut text. Ctrl + Z: Undo the last action. Ctrl + Y: Redo the last undone action. Ctrl + B: Bold selected text. Ctrl + I: Italicize selected text. Ctrl + U: Underline selected text. Navigation: Ctrl + Home: Go to the beginning of the document. Ctrl + End: Go to the end of the document. Ctrl + Left Arrow: Move one word to the left. Ctrl + Right Arrow: Move one word to the right. Ctrl + Up Arrow: Move to the beginning of the paragraph. Ctrl + Down Arrow: Move to the end of the paragraph. Page Down: Go to the next page. Ctrl + Page Down: Go to the next page. Formatting: Ctrl + L: Align selected text or line to the left. Ctrl + E: Align selected text or line to the center. Ctrl + R: Align selected text or line to the right. Ctrl + J: Justify selected text or line. Ctrl + M: Indent the paragraph. Ctrl + T: Create a hanging indent. Ctrl + Shift + L: Create a bullet point. Ctrl + 1: Single-space lines. Ctrl + 2: Double-space lines. Ctrl + 5: 1.5-line spacing. Ctrl + [: Decrease font size. Ctrl + ]: Increase font size. Ctrl + Shift + >: Increase font size. Ctrl + Shift + <: Decrease font size. File Operations: Ctrl + N: Create a new document. Ctrl + O: Open an existing document. Ctrl + S: Save the current document. Ctrl + P: Open the print window. Ctrl + W: Close the current document. Other Useful Shortcuts: Ctrl + F: Open the Find dialog box. Ctrl + H: Open the Replace dialog box. Ctrl + K: Insert a hyperlink. Ctrl + Shift + F: Open the Font dialog box. F1: Open the Help screen. F12: Save As.

At a mechanic’s workshop, I noticed a particular car that had been parked there for nearly four years. It was quite expensive and still looked in good shape the first time I saw it. But with time, it began to deteriorate. One of the windows got broken, the tyres deflated and wore out completely, and rust slowly crept over what was once a beautiful machine. Curious, I asked the mechanic why such an expensive vehicle had been left to rot. He confirmed that the car had indeed been in perfect condition when I first saw it. But even he had become helpless as to what to do. The vehicle belonged to someone from the Republic of Tchad. The man’s driver had been the one bringing it into Nigeria for repairs. On that last occasion, the driver dropped it off, paid for the repairs, and returned to Tchad, saying he would come back to collect the car once the required part being sourced from Lagos was fixed. The mechanic bought the part, fixed the car, and waited. He had already been paid. But the driver never came back. It turned out he had been on his way to pick up the car when he was attacked by insurgents and killed. The mechanic didn’t know much about him, only his name, and had no idea where exactly in Tchad he was from. So the car remained there, abandoned. The owner likely has no idea where it is or how to recover it. At a certain car wash, there was another case. Another expensive vehicle. This one had been brought in by a customer who patronised them occasionally. They didn’t know much about him either. He lived in another city but always came for business, and each time, he brought the car to be washed. On his last visit, he dropped it off as usual and said he was going into town and would return later that evening. He never did. That was three years ago. Still, no sign of him. The car wash owner continues to wash and maintain the vehicle daily, keeping it spotless. But no one has come for it. They didn’t even know his name, and a search of the vehicle turned up no documents that could trace it to anyone. So, it remains abandoned. Just last week, a friend of mine died after a brief illness. Before falling sick, he had taken some clothes to the laundry. He never returned to collect them. Thankfully, the laundryman knew his family and brought the clothes to his wife last night. She had no idea he had even taken anything to be laundered. These situations made me think deeply. Do our families and friends know the people we deal with, our mechanics, our laundrymen, or the businesses we patronise? Do we tell them about the errands we run or the transactions we make? Or do we go about our lives with no one aware of the little details that might matter in the end? Shouldn’t someone at least know? One day, you will take your car to the mechanic but you will not be the one to bring it back. Your clothes will be at the laundry but you will not return to pick them up. Do you have some pieces or parcels of land? Does your family know about them? Do you have house or houses any where? Does your family know about it or them? How many banks do you have accounts in? Does your family know about all of them? Sometimes, the things you worked hard for, the things you loved and valued, will be left lying somewhere, useless and out of reach, because no one knew where you kept them or how to find them. That should be enough to give one the creeps and make one think deeply. Today, tomorrow, it shall come for you. One day...... Copied

B. R. E A. K. I. N. G. N.E.W.S SENATOR SERIAKE DICKSON THROWS HIS WEIGHT BEHIND SENATOR NATASHA AKPOTI-UDUAGHAN'S REINSTATEMENT. The Senator representing Bayelsa West, Senator Seriake Dickson, has thrown his weight behind the return of Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan (Kogi Central) to the Senate following a court judgment that nullified her six-month suspension. Dickson gave his position while addressing journalists in Abuja on Saturday. The former Bayelsa State governor said he had never supported prolonged suspensions of lawmakers, stressing that such actions run contrary to constitutional principles and legislative ethics. Dickson said, “I sympathize with Natasha. I have never been in support of any parliamentary body suspending members for long periods. “The Senate leadership and my colleagues know my position on this, anchored on the law, the constitution, and my conviction. “Senators are here to agree and disagree in the national interest. So, we have to tolerate and respect one another, even when we differ in opinion.” Dickson emphasized the need for Akpoti-Uduaghan to resume her duties without further delay, insisting that her voice and representation are vital to the legislative process. “I was not present when her suspension was announced, but that is not my concern. My interest is that she resumes her seat and continues to perform her constitutional responsibilities. “I understand the court has already made a decision on the matter,” he added. Two weeks ago, the Federal High Court in Abuja declared Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan’s suspension by the Senate as unconstitutional, excessive, and a violation of the rights of her constituents. Justice Binta Nyako, in a ruling, ordered her immediate reinstatement and awarded a ₦5m fine against her for contempt, relating to a satirical Facebook post that breached a court order issued on March 4, 2025. The post, which appeared to mock Senate President Godswill Akpabio, was ruled to have violated an interim injunction. Nonetheless, the court ruled that the Senate’s action in suspending her for six months was beyond its constitutional powers. COPIED FROM: THE PUNCH NEWSPAPERS. -------------------------------------- Senator Dickson is a truthful leader. Other leaders should as a matter of fact emulate him. More power to your elbow sir. #bendelgistsblog.

EXERCISE IS GOOD FOR YOUR HEALTH Met this woman who is in her late 30’s at the gym. She told me her husband mandated her to never skip her gym sessions because she had severe back ache and knee pain sometime ago and all of those pain are gone just because of her consistency at the gym. She kept saying to me ,My dear “when you are above 30 don’t skip gym sessions oo” To her, I am probably in my late 20’s 🤣I wasn’t even ready to defend my age cos I am tired of doing that, so I kept nodding I have seen a lot of men and women say things like “Gym is where hook up girls come to” “Married men go there to mess around” “My wife will never go to the gym” Bla Bla Bla The truth is, if you go to the gym to mess around with strangers, that is who you are. The gym only amplified your personality. Keeping fit is not negotiable once you clock 30. And when you build that discipline, you will love yourself. #copied.

*1981: First National Minimum Wage became ₦125 per month; petrol was 20kobo per litre and US$1 = 60kobo.* *1990: Minimum Wage was ₦250; petrol was ₦20 per litre; a 50kg bag of rice was ₦400 and US$1 = ₦7.40k.* *1999: Minimum Wage was ₦3,500; petrol was still ₦20 per litre; a 50kg bag of rice was ₦2,500 and US$1 = ₦22.* *2000: new Minimum Wage became ₦5,500 and ₦7,500 for different categories of federal workers, petrol was ₦30; a 50kg bag of rice was still ₦2,500 and US$1 = ₦86.* *2011: new National Minimum Wage became ₦18,000; petrol was ₦65; a 50kg bag of rice was ₦12,000 and US$1 = ₦165.* *2019: new National Minimum Wage became N30,000 monthly; petrol was ₦145; a 50kg bag of rice was ₦19,500 and US$1 = ₦305.* *2024: New Minimum wage N70,000; Petrol is ₦955 and a 50kg bag of rice is ₦95,000 and US$1 = ₦1,560.* *The minimum wage of 1981 (₦125) was roughly US$208. At today’s exchange rate of US$1 = ₦1,560 that ₦125 is equivalent to ₦307,840. So, the minimum wage in 1981 was over 10 times bigger than the current minimum wage of ₦70,000 which is the equivalent of about US$42.* *The Nigerian worker has to eat, drink, have shelter, clothe self, transport self, settle bills/subscribe for services (DSTV, MTN, etc), access healthcare, provide for dependants (feeding, shelter, clothing, school fees, healthcare, etc.) etc.* *The Nigerian political officer (elected or appointed) takes life for granted because he scoops from the state treasury like from his domestic soup pot.* *COPIED*

She was 24. Fresh out of college. He was 3 months old. Left in a box outside a hospital with a note that read: “I’m sorry. Please love him.” No one came for him. No family. No calls. Just silence. They called him “Baby Elijah” on the news. But everyone assumed he’d end up in the system. Except her. Rachel wasn’t planning on being a mother. She was just volunteering at the hospital nursery. But the first time she held him, his tiny hand curled around her finger and wouldn’t let go. Neither did her heart. The agency told her she was too young. Too single. Too inexperienced. She told them: “I may not have a husband. I may not have money. But I have love. And he needs that more than anything.” She adopted Elijah. Her white skin and his dark brown curls drew stares. She heard the whispers: “Is that even her child?” “She won’t last a year.” “He’ll resent her.” But they never saw the way he clung to her during storms. Or how she worked three jobs just to afford his piano lessons. Or how she cried when he called her “Mom” for the first time. She raised him on courage, bedtime stories, and unconditional love. Years passed. Elijah grew tall, kind, brilliant. When he turned 18, he got into Harvard. Full scholarship. At the graduation dinner, he stood on stage and said: “Everyone always asked where my real mom was. Well, she’s right here. The woman who chose me when no one else would. Who gave me a name, a home, a future. She didn’t give me life… She saved it.” The room cried. Rachel cried. But Elijah just smiled and whispered in her ear: “You’re still holding my hand, Mom. And I’ll never let go.” Copied!!!

“I didn’t leave my husband because I stopped loving him. I left because I was starting to forget how to love myself. People assume divôrce means failure. No! sometimes, it’s survival. For years, I kept quiet, smiling for the camera, wearing my ring like everything was okay. But behind the scenes, I was disappearing, emotionally, mentally. I gave the best of me to a man who eventually stopped seeing me. Conversations turned to silence. Respect turned to tension. And the home I tried so hard to build started to feel like a place I didn’t belong. Walking away wasn’t easy. It wasn’t dramatic. It was silent, deliberate. I didn’t need to announce it, I just started choosing myself again. I stopped posting “Chioma Akpotha” and went back to being “Chioma Chukwuka” not because I hate my past, but because I’m reclaiming my name, my peace, and my power. I didn’t lose a marriage. I found myself. -- Chioma Chukwuka Me: No drama, no ranting, no press interview...love this! Choosing self for your mental health. #highlightseveryonefollowers #highlightseveryone Copied

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 u 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 u can ask for their police identity They are kidnappers many have been kidnapped Pls 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 msg is from P C R C . Lagos State *Copied*

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 u 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 u can ask for their police identity They are kidnappers many have been kidnapped Pls 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 msg is from P C R C . Lagos State *Copied*

Good day everyone in the house !!! There is a new security threat out there. The first time I heard about it was a few months back when I travelled. Yesterday, I saw a victim who confirmed to me that it is now in Lagos and probably all over Nigeria. Summary is when your phone has issues and you want to take it for repairs, go with your own charging cable. Most, if not all, phone repairers, now buy a cable known as NSA OMG cable (looks like ordinary cable but it is a mini computer that can extract all your data and also extract your screen unlock codes, apps lock codes, OTPs, phone numbers, bvn, to say a few. You can look this cable up online. It is just like an ordinary charging cable. I saw it yesterday after a repairer was arrested with it. Please let us inform family, friends, and even our enemies. Let's educate our senior citizens, our elders, who may not be tech savvy. The times are hard, may we not lose our hard earned money to these bad eggs in Society. Shared as copied.