• They laughed when she was forced to marry the village madman _ but what he did after the wedding shocked everyone.

    Episode 1

    Emily was called into the center of the village by her stepmother, Margaret, who stood with arms crossed and eyes blazing. The entire village gathered, eager for gossip. Margaret’s voice cut through the air like a blade, announcing that Emily would marry Jacob—the madman who lived near the woods. Shock rippled through the crowd, followed by gasps and stifled laughter. Emily’s heart pounded in her chest as tears welled up in her eyes. She had always hoped for a quiet, respectful life—not this public humiliation.
    She looked over at Jacob, who was being led out like livestock. He walked slowly, not making eye contact, his clothes ragged and hair unkempt. His face, though tired, showed no madness—just quiet pain. The villagers laughed louder as Emily crumbled under the weight of shame. No one knew the truth about Jacob, not even Emily herself. As she stood there, helpless and humiliated, her life changed forever in that moment—and so did his.
    The wedding was rushed, almost like a joke. Villagers dressed in their finest came not to celebrate, but to witness the mockery unfold. Women wore bold prints and headscarves, whispering to one another and pointing. The ceremony was held under the old mango tree, the same place where countless happy unions had taken place. But this time, it was different. Emily stood stiffly beside Jacob, her hands trembling as she held her wilted bouquet. The priest hesitated before beginning, as even he felt the discomfort in the air.

    Note - this story belongs to jennylight,any page aside from hers stole it.

    Jacob didn’t say a word during the entire ceremony. He simply looked at the ground, never once meeting Emily’s eyes. When the priest asked if he accepted her as his wife, he gave a slow nod. No smile. No joy. Just a nod. Emily could feel the eyes of the villagers boring into her skin. Her stepmother smirked, proud of what she had orchestrated. The priest declared them husband and wife, and instead of cheers, laughter echoed through the village square. Emily felt like a lamb led to slaughter, her dignity stripped, her heart hollow.
    After the ceremony, there was no celebration—just silence. Emily and Jacob walked down the dusty path toward his tiny hut at the edge of the village. She had never been so humiliated. Her veil fluttered in the breeze, catching on low branches as curious children followed them at a distance, giggling and whispering. Emily’s heart pounded with fear and uncertainty. She didn’t know what kind of man Jacob truly was—only what the village claimed. The madman. The one who talked to himself. The one who lived alone.
    Jacob’s home was barely more than a shack—wooden walls, a leaking roof, and a single bench inside. When they arrived, he stepped aside and let her walk in first. No words. Just a nod. Emily stepped into the small space and looked around. It was tidy, strangely enough. There were books stacked in a corner, a small blanket folded neatly on a mat, and a worn drawing pinned to the wall. It was a sketch of the village—but beautifully detailed. Her eyes lingered on it, and for a moment, she felt something shift. Maybe there was more to him than they told her. But fear still clung tightly to her chest.
    That night, Emily lay stiffly on one side of the hut, facing the wall. Jacob remained on the other, barely making a sound. The silence was louder than the laughter they had left behind. The wind rustled through the holes in the roof, and a faint drip echoed from a leaky spot near the corner. She couldn’t sleep. Her mind spun with shame, confusion, and fear. Yet, not once did he approach her. No threats. No crazed behavior. Just the occasional cough and the creak of his weight shifting on the mat.
    In the morning, she found a steaming cup of boiled herbs and a plate of roasted yam waiting for her on the bench. Jacob wasn’t in the hut. She blinked in confusion. He had gone to the stream, and when he returned, he placed a bundle of firewood beside the door without a word. Emily watched him from inside, her curiosity growing. Was this the madman the village spoke of? He hadn’t spoken to her, but his quiet actions spoke volumes. For the first time, she realized the village might have been wrong—or at least, they didn’t know the full story.

    Jennylight
    For full story kindly click https://youtu.be/OdGf95ntiXk?si=fEcleCZBdZSVKGbc
    They laughed when she was forced to marry the village madman _ but what he did after the wedding shocked everyone. Episode 1 Emily was called into the center of the village by her stepmother, Margaret, who stood with arms crossed and eyes blazing. The entire village gathered, eager for gossip. Margaret’s voice cut through the air like a blade, announcing that Emily would marry Jacob—the madman who lived near the woods. Shock rippled through the crowd, followed by gasps and stifled laughter. Emily’s heart pounded in her chest as tears welled up in her eyes. She had always hoped for a quiet, respectful life—not this public humiliation. She looked over at Jacob, who was being led out like livestock. He walked slowly, not making eye contact, his clothes ragged and hair unkempt. His face, though tired, showed no madness—just quiet pain. The villagers laughed louder as Emily crumbled under the weight of shame. No one knew the truth about Jacob, not even Emily herself. As she stood there, helpless and humiliated, her life changed forever in that moment—and so did his. The wedding was rushed, almost like a joke. Villagers dressed in their finest came not to celebrate, but to witness the mockery unfold. Women wore bold prints and headscarves, whispering to one another and pointing. The ceremony was held under the old mango tree, the same place where countless happy unions had taken place. But this time, it was different. Emily stood stiffly beside Jacob, her hands trembling as she held her wilted bouquet. The priest hesitated before beginning, as even he felt the discomfort in the air. Note - this story belongs to jennylight,any page aside from hers stole it. Jacob didn’t say a word during the entire ceremony. He simply looked at the ground, never once meeting Emily’s eyes. When the priest asked if he accepted her as his wife, he gave a slow nod. No smile. No joy. Just a nod. Emily could feel the eyes of the villagers boring into her skin. Her stepmother smirked, proud of what she had orchestrated. The priest declared them husband and wife, and instead of cheers, laughter echoed through the village square. Emily felt like a lamb led to slaughter, her dignity stripped, her heart hollow. After the ceremony, there was no celebration—just silence. Emily and Jacob walked down the dusty path toward his tiny hut at the edge of the village. She had never been so humiliated. Her veil fluttered in the breeze, catching on low branches as curious children followed them at a distance, giggling and whispering. Emily’s heart pounded with fear and uncertainty. She didn’t know what kind of man Jacob truly was—only what the village claimed. The madman. The one who talked to himself. The one who lived alone. Jacob’s home was barely more than a shack—wooden walls, a leaking roof, and a single bench inside. When they arrived, he stepped aside and let her walk in first. No words. Just a nod. Emily stepped into the small space and looked around. It was tidy, strangely enough. There were books stacked in a corner, a small blanket folded neatly on a mat, and a worn drawing pinned to the wall. It was a sketch of the village—but beautifully detailed. Her eyes lingered on it, and for a moment, she felt something shift. Maybe there was more to him than they told her. But fear still clung tightly to her chest. That night, Emily lay stiffly on one side of the hut, facing the wall. Jacob remained on the other, barely making a sound. The silence was louder than the laughter they had left behind. The wind rustled through the holes in the roof, and a faint drip echoed from a leaky spot near the corner. She couldn’t sleep. Her mind spun with shame, confusion, and fear. Yet, not once did he approach her. No threats. No crazed behavior. Just the occasional cough and the creak of his weight shifting on the mat. In the morning, she found a steaming cup of boiled herbs and a plate of roasted yam waiting for her on the bench. Jacob wasn’t in the hut. She blinked in confusion. He had gone to the stream, and when he returned, he placed a bundle of firewood beside the door without a word. Emily watched him from inside, her curiosity growing. Was this the madman the village spoke of? He hadn’t spoken to her, but his quiet actions spoke volumes. For the first time, she realized the village might have been wrong—or at least, they didn’t know the full story. Jennylight For full story kindly click 👉 https://youtu.be/OdGf95ntiXk?si=fEcleCZBdZSVKGbc
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  • “CAN TWO PEOPLE BE IN LOVE AND STILL BE INCOMPATIBLE?”

    Two people can be madly in love, light up when they see each other, finish each other's sentences, can't seem to stay away from one another, and yet behind the smiles and chemistry, there's tension. Arguments that don’t get resolved. Deep needs that remain unmet, and over time, love alone doesn’t seem to be enough to hold them together.

    This is because love is a feeling. It’s powerful, emotional, and sometimes irrational. It's what draws you in, makes your heart race, and convinces you this is the one.

    But compatibility? That’s the everyday stuff. It’s how well your values, life goals, communication styles, beliefs, and habits align. It’s what determines whether two people can actually do life together peacefully and productively.

    You can love someone deeply and still struggle to communicate effectively with them.

    You can feel butterflies and still clash when it comes to handling money, raising kids, spirituality, or dealing with conflict.
    Here are Signs of Incompatibility Despite Love
    You love spending time together but argue about everything that matters.

    Your goals and life visions are constantly pulling you in opposite directions.

    You feel unheard, unseen, or unvalued despite the affection.

    You're always trying to “fix” or “change” each other instead of accepting one another.

    It’s painful. Because it creates a confusing emotional space—“If we love each other this much, shouldn’t it be enough?” But relationships aren't just about feelings; they’re about functioning well together over time.

    Many people stay in unhealthy or chaotic relationships simply because they are in love. But love alone won’t resolve deep incompatibilities. It won’t change someone’s core values or lifestyle choices.

    This is because love isn't always enough to build a stable, and fulfilling relationship.

    So, understanding this truth helps you to make wiser decisions—whether it’s walking away or choosing to work intentionally on your differences. Because in the end, the goal isn’t just to fall in love—it’s to stay in love, grow together, and enjoy peace while doing life side by side.
    “CAN TWO PEOPLE BE IN LOVE AND STILL BE INCOMPATIBLE?” Two people can be madly in love, light up when they see each other, finish each other's sentences, can't seem to stay away from one another, and yet behind the smiles and chemistry, there's tension. Arguments that don’t get resolved. Deep needs that remain unmet, and over time, love alone doesn’t seem to be enough to hold them together. This is because love is a feeling. It’s powerful, emotional, and sometimes irrational. It's what draws you in, makes your heart race, and convinces you this is the one. But compatibility? That’s the everyday stuff. It’s how well your values, life goals, communication styles, beliefs, and habits align. It’s what determines whether two people can actually do life together peacefully and productively. You can love someone deeply and still struggle to communicate effectively with them. You can feel butterflies and still clash when it comes to handling money, raising kids, spirituality, or dealing with conflict. Here are Signs of Incompatibility Despite Love You love spending time together but argue about everything that matters. Your goals and life visions are constantly pulling you in opposite directions. You feel unheard, unseen, or unvalued despite the affection. You're always trying to “fix” or “change” each other instead of accepting one another. It’s painful. Because it creates a confusing emotional space—“If we love each other this much, shouldn’t it be enough?” But relationships aren't just about feelings; they’re about functioning well together over time. Many people stay in unhealthy or chaotic relationships simply because they are in love. But love alone won’t resolve deep incompatibilities. It won’t change someone’s core values or lifestyle choices. This is because love isn't always enough to build a stable, and fulfilling relationship. So, understanding this truth helps you to make wiser decisions—whether it’s walking away or choosing to work intentionally on your differences. Because in the end, the goal isn’t just to fall in love—it’s to stay in love, grow together, and enjoy peace while doing life side by side.
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  • "YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A WIFE, NOT A GUEST!" MY HUSBAND SH0UTED WHEN I REFUSED TO COOK FOR HIS FAMILY

    “And my opinion doesn’t matter to anyone?” Natasha said, placing the dustpan back on the shelf as she turned to her husband. There was pain in her voice. “I’m a person too, Lucifer. I’m tired.”

    “You must remember you’re a wife, not a guest!” Lucifer barked, his face reddening with anger. “You have responsibilities to the family!”

    Natasha tapped her fingers on the countertop, watching as the kettle began to bubble, filling the kitchen with steam. The Sunday morning air was unusually quiet, as though the world had decided to grant her a brief reprieve. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, gently illuminating every corner, every speck of dust. For a moment, she simply stood there, soaking in the rare stillness.

    Five years ago, when Lucifer and Natasha had moved into the apartment, its walls were bare, the décor minimal. Now, every corner radiated warmth and comfort. She remembered the time spent choosing the perfect wallpaper for the living room, the endless debates with Lucifer over the color of the curtains, and the joy she felt when she finally found the ideal sofa.

    “Good morning,” Lucifer greeted sleepily as he shuffled into the kitchen. “What’s for breakfast?”

    “Omelet with mushrooms and tomatoes,” Natasha said with a smile, pulling ingredients from the fridge. “And some fresh coffee.”

    Lucifer approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

    “You really are the mistress of the house, aren’t you?” he remarked in a tone that immediately put Natasha on guard. Something about his voice hinted at an ulterior motive.

    “What’s wrong?” Natasha asked, narrowing her eyes.

    “Nothing in particular,” Lucifer replied, looking away. “It’s just that my mother and Katherine plan to drop by. Just for lunch.”

    Natasha exhaled sharply. “Just for a little while” in Lucifer’s family often stretched into long hours. She clenched her fists, fighting to keep her frustration from showing.

    “What time will they arrive?” she asked, her voice already laced with tension.

    “Around one or two,” Lucifer said, pausing before adding, “and… Katherine will bring the kids.”

    Natasha silently counted to ten. Katherine’s six-year-old twins were more than mischievous—they were miniature hurricanes. After their visits, the apartment always resembled the aftermath of a war zone.

    “Fine,” Natasha said, grabbing a frying pan and turning on the stove. “I suppose I’ll have to dash to the store—there’s not enough food.”

    “Honey, you know how much my mother loves your dishes,” Lucifer said, trying to pull her into an embrace. But Natasha sidestepped, pretending not to notice.

    Victoria Demson, Lucifer’s mother, never missed an opportunity to critique Natasha’s cooking. Sometimes the soup was too salty, sometimes the meat undercooked, and sometimes the salad was labeled too bland.

    By two o’clock, the apartment sparkled with cleanliness. In the oven, a casserole of potatoes and meat roasted, filling the air with its mouthwatering aroma. In the fridge sat the cake that Victoria adored, waiting to be served.

    The doorbell rang at precisely 14:15. Natasha adjusted her apron and went to answer.

    “Niku-sha!” Victoria Demson burst into the hallway like a whirlwind, her coat trailing behind her. “How are you, dear?”

    Katherine followed closely, her twins charging into the living room without removing their shoes.

    “Kids, shoes!” Natasha called out sharply.

    “Oh, let them be,” Victoria interjected, waving her hand dismissively. “You know how hard it is for them to sit still.”

    Natasha pressed her lips together, watching dirty footprints streak across her light carpet. Every time, she wondered why no one taught them to remove their shoes, but she kept her thoughts to herself. No one listened anyway.

    “What’s for lunch?” Katherine asked, stepping into the kitchen. “Oh, casserole? Mom, remember the one I made last week with mushrooms? It was a masterpiece!”

    “Of course I do, sweetheart,” Victoria said with a smile, settling at the table. “Niku-sha, you could learn a thing or two from Katherine. She has such a talent for cooking.”

    Natasha stayed silent, methodically arranging the c:u:tlery. From the living room, a cra$h echoed—something had fallen to the floor.

    “Lucifer, can you see what your nephews have done?” Natasha said calmly.

    “Oh, come on,” Lucifer replied dismissively, not even looking up. “Let them play—they’re just kids.”

    “Exactly!” Victoria chimed in. “Niku-sha, you’re so proper. Everything has to be perfect with you.”

    “I just like order,” Natasha replied softly.

    “There should be life in a home!” Victoria declared loudly. “You’re always fussing over cleanliness, Niku-sha. Imagine if you had kids—you’d be chasing them with a rag all day!”

    Natasha felt her cheeks b:u:rn. The topic of children was a raw one—after two failed pregnancies, doctors had advised her to wait before trying again. She sw@ll0wed the words b:u:rning on her t0ngue and stayed silent.

    Lunch unfolded in the same ve!n. Victoria offered unsolicited advice, Katherine boasted about her culinary skills, and the twins left a trail of cha0s throughout the apartment. Lucifer sat back, seemingly enjoying the lively atmosphere, oblivious to the growing tension in Natasha.

    “You know, Niku-sha,” Victoria said, finishing her second slice of cake, “Katherine and I were thinking—maybe we should gather at your place every Sunday? Your kitchen is so spacious, and you cook… well, with soul.”

    SEE THE CONTINUATION IN THE COMMENTS BELOW!
    "YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A WIFE, NOT A GUEST!" MY HUSBAND SH0UTED WHEN I REFUSED TO COOK FOR HIS FAMILY “And my opinion doesn’t matter to anyone?” Natasha said, placing the dustpan back on the shelf as she turned to her husband. There was pain in her voice. “I’m a person too, Lucifer. I’m tired.” “You must remember you’re a wife, not a guest!” Lucifer barked, his face reddening with anger. “You have responsibilities to the family!” Natasha tapped her fingers on the countertop, watching as the kettle began to bubble, filling the kitchen with steam. The Sunday morning air was unusually quiet, as though the world had decided to grant her a brief reprieve. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, gently illuminating every corner, every speck of dust. For a moment, she simply stood there, soaking in the rare stillness. Five years ago, when Lucifer and Natasha had moved into the apartment, its walls were bare, the décor minimal. Now, every corner radiated warmth and comfort. She remembered the time spent choosing the perfect wallpaper for the living room, the endless debates with Lucifer over the color of the curtains, and the joy she felt when she finally found the ideal sofa. “Good morning,” Lucifer greeted sleepily as he shuffled into the kitchen. “What’s for breakfast?” “Omelet with mushrooms and tomatoes,” Natasha said with a smile, pulling ingredients from the fridge. “And some fresh coffee.” Lucifer approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “You really are the mistress of the house, aren’t you?” he remarked in a tone that immediately put Natasha on guard. Something about his voice hinted at an ulterior motive. “What’s wrong?” Natasha asked, narrowing her eyes. “Nothing in particular,” Lucifer replied, looking away. “It’s just that my mother and Katherine plan to drop by. Just for lunch.” Natasha exhaled sharply. “Just for a little while” in Lucifer’s family often stretched into long hours. She clenched her fists, fighting to keep her frustration from showing. “What time will they arrive?” she asked, her voice already laced with tension. “Around one or two,” Lucifer said, pausing before adding, “and… Katherine will bring the kids.” Natasha silently counted to ten. Katherine’s six-year-old twins were more than mischievous—they were miniature hurricanes. After their visits, the apartment always resembled the aftermath of a war zone. “Fine,” Natasha said, grabbing a frying pan and turning on the stove. “I suppose I’ll have to dash to the store—there’s not enough food.” “Honey, you know how much my mother loves your dishes,” Lucifer said, trying to pull her into an embrace. But Natasha sidestepped, pretending not to notice. Victoria Demson, Lucifer’s mother, never missed an opportunity to critique Natasha’s cooking. Sometimes the soup was too salty, sometimes the meat undercooked, and sometimes the salad was labeled too bland. By two o’clock, the apartment sparkled with cleanliness. In the oven, a casserole of potatoes and meat roasted, filling the air with its mouthwatering aroma. In the fridge sat the cake that Victoria adored, waiting to be served. The doorbell rang at precisely 14:15. Natasha adjusted her apron and went to answer. “Niku-sha!” Victoria Demson burst into the hallway like a whirlwind, her coat trailing behind her. “How are you, dear?” Katherine followed closely, her twins charging into the living room without removing their shoes. “Kids, shoes!” Natasha called out sharply. “Oh, let them be,” Victoria interjected, waving her hand dismissively. “You know how hard it is for them to sit still.” Natasha pressed her lips together, watching dirty footprints streak across her light carpet. Every time, she wondered why no one taught them to remove their shoes, but she kept her thoughts to herself. No one listened anyway. “What’s for lunch?” Katherine asked, stepping into the kitchen. “Oh, casserole? Mom, remember the one I made last week with mushrooms? It was a masterpiece!” “Of course I do, sweetheart,” Victoria said with a smile, settling at the table. “Niku-sha, you could learn a thing or two from Katherine. She has such a talent for cooking.” Natasha stayed silent, methodically arranging the c:u:tlery. From the living room, a cra$h echoed—something had fallen to the floor. “Lucifer, can you see what your nephews have done?” Natasha said calmly. “Oh, come on,” Lucifer replied dismissively, not even looking up. “Let them play—they’re just kids.” “Exactly!” Victoria chimed in. “Niku-sha, you’re so proper. Everything has to be perfect with you.” “I just like order,” Natasha replied softly. “There should be life in a home!” Victoria declared loudly. “You’re always fussing over cleanliness, Niku-sha. Imagine if you had kids—you’d be chasing them with a rag all day!” Natasha felt her cheeks b:u:rn. The topic of children was a raw one—after two failed pregnancies, doctors had advised her to wait before trying again. She sw@ll0wed the words b:u:rning on her t0ngue and stayed silent. Lunch unfolded in the same ve!n. Victoria offered unsolicited advice, Katherine boasted about her culinary skills, and the twins left a trail of cha0s throughout the apartment. Lucifer sat back, seemingly enjoying the lively atmosphere, oblivious to the growing tension in Natasha. “You know, Niku-sha,” Victoria said, finishing her second slice of cake, “Katherine and I were thinking—maybe we should gather at your place every Sunday? Your kitchen is so spacious, and you cook… well, with soul.” SEE THE CONTINUATION IN THE COMMENTS BELOW! ⬇️⬇️
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  • It's not houses I love, it's the life I live in them.
    It's not houses I love, it's the life I live in them.
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  • BREAKING
    THEY USED HIS FRIEND FOR HIM OO!

    Captain Traoré Cries Out After Brπtal Betrayalll
    My friend Slept Beside Me, Then, Planned to KiII Me for 5 Billion.

    “I slept beside him. I ate with him. I truusted him with my lπfe and pr0tected his life .. and he tried to end miine.” because of m0ney – Captain Ibrahim Traoré

    T£ars rep0rtedly welled in Captain Traoré’s eyes as he addressed his inner circle.
    The s0ldier in this ph0to—his closest aide, his brother in baattle—was not only w0rking agaπnst him... he was paid 5 billion francs to kpai him.

    Traoré survπved three silent assassinati0n att£mpts. Each one planned by the man he trusted most.

    And when he found out, he didn’t speak for hours. he just sat there.. shaking, one aide revealed.

    This is not just betrayaal.
    This is he@rtbreak wrapped in uniform.

    How do you lead a nation when the people guarding your life are secretly holding the daagger?

    Afrπca is not just fightπng external enemπes—we are bleedπng from w0unds caused by our own.......
    Moral lesson: Never trust anyone when you are trying to get things right for the c0untry or organisati0n.....Buhaari came to build but when they knack him with p0ison, baba close hands ..
    BREAKING 🚨🚨 THEY USED HIS FRIEND FOR HIM OO! Captain Traoré Cries Out After Brπtal Betrayalll🚨 My friend Slept Beside Me, Then, Planned to KiII Me for 5 Billion. “I slept beside him. I ate with him. I truusted him with my lπfe and pr0tected his life .. and he tried to end miine.” because of m0ney – Captain Ibrahim Traoré T£ars rep0rtedly welled in Captain Traoré’s eyes as he addressed his inner circle. The s0ldier in this ph0to—his closest aide, his brother in baattle—was not only w0rking agaπnst him... he was paid 5 billion francs to kpai him. Traoré survπved three silent assassinati0n att£mpts. Each one planned by the man he trusted most. And when he found out, he didn’t speak for hours. he just sat there.. shaking, one aide revealed. This is not just betrayaal. This is he@rtbreak wrapped in uniform. How do you lead a nation when the people guarding your life are secretly holding the daagger? Afrπca is not just fightπng external enemπes—we are bleedπng from w0unds caused by our own....... Moral lesson: Never trust anyone when you are trying to get things right for the c0untry or organisati0n.....Buhaari came to build but when they knack him with p0ison, baba close hands ..
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  • "I'll love you forever, big brother," Yul Edochie wrote in a heartfelt message as he celebrated his elder brother, Leo.

    The actor reflected on how Leo had always been protective of him since childhood. He went on to express his deep love and appreciation, offering prayers for a long life and all the blessings life has to offer.

    Photo credit: yuledochie edochieleo/Instagram
    "I'll love you forever, big brother," Yul Edochie wrote in a heartfelt message as he celebrated his elder brother, Leo. The actor reflected on how Leo had always been protective of him since childhood. He went on to express his deep love and appreciation, offering prayers for a long life and all the blessings life has to offer. Photo credit: yuledochie edochieleo/Instagram
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  • Before you visit the next betting site, you might need to read this.

    Today is not about food.
    It is about your lifestyle.
    What can wreck you and leave you broke for life.

    Some of you cannot even afford good food because you are saving money for betting.

    Let’s be clear:
    Betting is a toxic habit.

    It doesn’t just drain your finances.
    It wrecks your mind, your peace, your body.

    Stress.
    Anxiety.
    Depression.
    Self-hate.
    Regret.
    Shame.

    Before women start feeling like saints, let me say it loud:
    Betting is destroying women too.

    Betting apps have made it easier for both men and women to dive headfirst into this madness.

    Women, be warned.
    The emotional trauma can be worse for you.
    The shame cuts deeper.
    The guilt can be unbearable.

    Betting will destroy you.
    It is a financial and emotional black hole.
    It will suck you in and spit you out broken.

    You are not just gambling money.
    You are gambling your sanity, your relationships, your dreams, your health, your future.

    Do not be fooled by the glamour in their adverts.
    Do not be seduced by the thrill of a quick win.

    Betting is a demon that will consume you whole.

    It is a habit that will cling to your soul like a disease.
    And once it takes root, breaking free will be a battle most people never win.

    Choose life.
    Choose sanity.
    Choose freedom.
    Choose your future.

    Do not gamble with your destiny.
    Before you visit the next betting site, you might need to read this. Today is not about food. It is about your lifestyle. What can wreck you and leave you broke for life. Some of you cannot even afford good food because you are saving money for betting. Let’s be clear: Betting is a toxic habit. It doesn’t just drain your finances. It wrecks your mind, your peace, your body. Stress. Anxiety. Depression. Self-hate. Regret. Shame. Before women start feeling like saints, let me say it loud: Betting is destroying women too. Betting apps have made it easier for both men and women to dive headfirst into this madness. Women, be warned. The emotional trauma can be worse for you. The shame cuts deeper. The guilt can be unbearable. Betting will destroy you. It is a financial and emotional black hole. It will suck you in and spit you out broken. You are not just gambling money. You are gambling your sanity, your relationships, your dreams, your health, your future. Do not be fooled by the glamour in their adverts. Do not be seduced by the thrill of a quick win. Betting is a demon that will consume you whole. It is a habit that will cling to your soul like a disease. And once it takes root, breaking free will be a battle most people never win. Choose life. Choose sanity. Choose freedom. Choose your future. Do not gamble with your destiny.
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  • Water is life, it has no enemy
    Water is life, it has no enemy
    0 Comments 0 Shares 72 Views 0 Reviews
  • I'm very happy for God's grace and mercy over me b/c I have seen his great work in my life.
    I'm very happy for God's grace and mercy over me b/c I have seen his great work in my life.
    0 Comments 0 Shares 58 Views 0 Reviews
  • Pope Francis's assets have been officially revealed after his passing.
    Pope Francis' assets
    What assets did His Holiness Pope Francis leave behind?
    You'll never believe how many of these countless assets he left behind!

    His Holiness Pope Francis passed away leaving only $100.
    Yes, $100. Less than €90!!!
    He didn't own a personal home.
    He didn't have a bank account!
    He didn't have any private investments in his name...even though he was the head of the Catholic Church, which has a billion and a half Catholics worldwide!
    This position could have earned him an annual salary of approximately €340,000 per year since 2013...but he refused all this money!!!
    Why?
    Because he was a Jesuit monk, and Jesuits take a vow of poverty as a condition of their monastic life!!!
    He could have lived in the luxurious Vatican apartments like his predecessors, but he chose to settle in a small house called Casa Blanca Santa Marta, a simple and modest dwelling. He renounced all gold and silver, and had no private servants! Only a bed, a desk, and a faith that could move mountains!
    He wore his old, worn-out black shoes, rejecting the traditional red ones.
    He traveled in a small Ford Focus, while other religious leaders drove limousines, BMWs, and other luxury cars.
    He ate with Vatican workers and employees, not in a private dining room.
    He wore simple clothes, without any special adornments, only his white robes and a "Handcrafted Cross."
    As for his invisible wealth...
    Although others were and still are clinging to their possessions, privacy, and photos... His Holiness Pope Francis decided to own nothing, so that he could give everything to others!
    He doesn't own millions... nor do he have complicated wills... only $100 + a touching letter that reads: "It's not what you own that matters, but who you are and what you give to others."... And the world received this message, even though it was shocked!! In an age where wealth is often the ultimate goal, Pope Francis leaves an everlasting mark without ever seeking to enrich himself.
    He left behind a moral legacy...a lesson in humility and a vision of true service: "Standing beside the marginalized, the abandoned, the displaced, the exiled, and the hungry...!!
    A man who proved that the simplicity of living surpasses the treasures and power of this world!!!
    Translated from English
    Pope Francis's assets have been officially revealed after his passing. Pope Francis' assets What assets did His Holiness Pope Francis leave behind? You'll never believe how many of these countless assets he left behind! His Holiness Pope Francis passed away leaving only $100. Yes, $100. Less than €90!!! He didn't own a personal home. He didn't have a bank account! He didn't have any private investments in his name...even though he was the head of the Catholic Church, which has a billion and a half Catholics worldwide! This position could have earned him an annual salary of approximately €340,000 per year since 2013...but he refused all this money!!! Why? Because he was a Jesuit monk, and Jesuits take a vow of poverty as a condition of their monastic life!!! He could have lived in the luxurious Vatican apartments like his predecessors, but he chose to settle in a small house called Casa Blanca Santa Marta, a simple and modest dwelling. He renounced all gold and silver, and had no private servants! Only a bed, a desk, and a faith that could move mountains! He wore his old, worn-out black shoes, rejecting the traditional red ones. He traveled in a small Ford Focus, while other religious leaders drove limousines, BMWs, and other luxury cars. He ate with Vatican workers and employees, not in a private dining room. He wore simple clothes, without any special adornments, only his white robes and a "Handcrafted Cross." As for his invisible wealth... Although others were and still are clinging to their possessions, privacy, and photos... His Holiness Pope Francis decided to own nothing, so that he could give everything to others! He doesn't own millions... nor do he have complicated wills... only $100 + a touching letter that reads: "It's not what you own that matters, but who you are and what you give to others."... And the world received this message, even though it was shocked!! In an age where wealth is often the ultimate goal, Pope Francis leaves an everlasting mark without ever seeking to enrich himself. He left behind a moral legacy...a lesson in humility and a vision of true service: "Standing beside the marginalized, the abandoned, the displaced, the exiled, and the hungry...!! A man who proved that the simplicity of living surpasses the treasures and power of this world!!! Translated from English
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  • HEAVY ALARM!
    DON'T DO THESE THE MOMENT YOU WANTS TO GO TO BED

    1. Don't go to bed and sleep over if you are having tight wears on your skin, such as undies and brazia, bukkled belt, and tight hair styles and bangles. it has a bad effect on your health and your body system will be on restrictions to it's normal funtioning.
    Always loosen all these for health purpuse.

    2. Wearing Makeups on your face is act of killing your skin protectives. Wearing make up while sleeping over the night increases the chances of having skin infections on your face such as; black coating on under eye, pimples,eczema,rashes and so on.
    Always wash your face, most importantly if it seems you are quite stressed that you couldn't shower all over.

    3. Do not go to bed grudgingly having some one in your mind and spirit. Someone one who despitefully offend you may leave you in worries and sorrow in the heart.And so, you may go to th bed nursing the fellow in your heart. Anger and Malice inside of you during bedtime definitely has a spiritual effect.
    It's spiritual catastrophe is Dlay.
    So don't go to bed leaving your soul in a state of Anger and Malice, it causes Delay in some one's lif in the Real Life.
    moreover, some will say, 'it is a sperstitious belief.'
    Thus, it is not so. ALas! it is a real happening!

    4. Lying Down flat. Having your Face up is a sign of how they lie dead people ready to buried. So do away with that. Use other lying patterns.
    That is what contributes too many conflicts and wrestlings surfacing for you in your Dream.
    It makes you find it difficult for you to dive in strength in order to beat your wrestler down.
    So, the Result is; if you not posses a Strong Spirit you might loose the fight in the dream.

    5. Don't by any means forget to recognize your spirit guardians. Always and Consistently say your short prayer before you sleep.
    Definitely, your assigned angels can interceed for you on the day of your weakness!
    HEAVY ALARM! DON'T DO THESE THE MOMENT YOU WANTS TO GO TO BED 1. Don't go to bed and sleep over if you are having tight wears on your skin, such as undies and brazia, bukkled belt, and tight hair styles and bangles. it has a bad effect on your health and your body system will be on restrictions to it's normal funtioning. Always loosen all these for health purpuse. 2. Wearing Makeups on your face is act of killing your skin protectives. Wearing make up while sleeping over the night increases the chances of having skin infections on your face such as; black coating on under eye, pimples,eczema,rashes and so on. Always wash your face, most importantly if it seems you are quite stressed that you couldn't shower all over. 3. Do not go to bed grudgingly having some one in your mind and spirit. Someone one who despitefully offend you may leave you in worries and sorrow in the heart.And so, you may go to th bed nursing the fellow in your heart. Anger and Malice inside of you during bedtime definitely has a spiritual effect. It's spiritual catastrophe is Dlay. So don't go to bed leaving your soul in a state of Anger and Malice, it causes Delay in some one's lif in the Real Life. moreover, some will say, 'it is a sperstitious belief.' Thus, it is not so. ALas! it is a real happening! 4. Lying Down flat. Having your Face up is a sign of how they lie dead people ready to buried. So do away with that. Use other lying patterns. That is what contributes too many conflicts and wrestlings surfacing for you in your Dream. It makes you find it difficult for you to dive in strength in order to beat your wrestler down. So, the Result is; if you not posses a Strong Spirit you might loose the fight in the dream. 5. Don't by any means forget to recognize your spirit guardians. Always and Consistently say your short prayer before you sleep. Definitely, your assigned angels can interceed for you on the day of your weakness!
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  • "The care of human life and happiness...the first and only legitimate object of good governance" - Thomas Jefferson.
    "The care of human life and happiness...the first and only legitimate object of good governance" - Thomas Jefferson.
    0 Comments 0 Shares 58 Views 0 Reviews
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