I'M A SALON OWNER AND I'VE SLPT WITH ALL MY MALE CLIENTS BECAUSE OF A MONEY RITUAL.

Money rituals are very dangerous and desperation has turned me into something I am not. I have always been very passionate about doing people's hair and nails from a very young age and I knew that one day I would own a salon.

I learned how to do easy hairstyles while I was still in high school and as soon as I became perfect I started charging them. I would do people's hair from home and make a little extra pocket money.

That is when I realised that there is money in doing people's hair and I made up my mind that after matric i would go learn professionaly and make it my career. Indeed after passing matric that's exactly what I did. I went to school to learn more skills.

I got my certificate and opened my own salon. I rented a salon in town and hired two more people to work with. Everything was well until a few years later when a foreign national opened a salon right next to mine.

I lost a lot of client's soon after that. It was so weird because we had the same pricing yet people preferred her salon over mine. Business became extremely slow so much that I had to let go of one of my employees because I just couldn't afford them.

I was slowly following into repressio and regretted my decision of a career path because how do I compete with a foreign national? Her salon was always very packed while I'd get one or two clients a day.

One day I didn't even have money to travel back home and I decided I would just lock up and sleep in my salon.

In the middle of the night I had a horrible sleep paralysis. I dreamed of my salon burning and I was inside it. In the dream there was Smoke everywhere and it was suffocating me and I couldn't move nor breath.

I managed to get out of the dream and I peeked outside the window and I saw the lady who owned the salon opposite mine pouring Muti on my front door. Worst of all she was half nakd.

She was holding a bucket and a hand broom,she dipped into the bucket with the broom and started sprinkling water around my salon. I froze and became very scared instantly and decided to hide and not say a word..next coming up

To be continued

Men, your value increase as you become more dangerous

Here are 15 rules DANGEROUS MEN must obey.

Masculinity thread:

1. Stop Helping Everyone
Reality is you cannot help everyone.

You can bring horse to the water, but you can never make the horse drink.

2. BE RADICALLY HONEST

Everyone can be honest.

But can you be if you are facing risk of humiliation, embarrassment and shame?

Or if it offends others?

Dangerous men DO NOT give a f*ck.

3. BE EXTREMELY MASCULINE

The world is having too many demasculinized men.

Being extremely masculine today is like half the masculine 5000 years ago.

4. SAY NO TO WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY NO

Life is not about pleasing everyone you know.

You are in full responsibility of your life.

Take care of yourself first.

6. STAY 100% TRUE TO YOUR BELIEFS AND VALUES.

If you care about something, fight for it.

Don't be afraid.

Live with full of integrity

7. BE RUTHLESS IN THE PURSUIT OF YOUR GOALS AND PURPOSE.

Your purpose makes you a valuable man.

It's meant to make you driven and powerful.

8. STOP WASTING TIME ON BS

There's too much bs going on like how the will smith smacked the sh*t out of chris rock.

Stop wasting your time on non-sensical drama.

9. FORM POWERFUL CONNECTIONS.

Learn to be confident and develop massive social skills.

The lone wolf dies.

The pack lives. I don't make the rules.

10. PICK A SKILL AND BE VERY GOOD AT IT

There's a famous restaurant in Italy that only serves macaroni.

But it's the best restaurant in town. Why?

Because they are specialised in making the best macaroni.

12. BE GOOD TO YOURSELF

If there's anything you won't do to your own child, don't do it to yourself.

Don't say bad things to yourself because you won't do it to your child

13. DON'T DO ANYTHING IN SECRET

Losers think their purpose in cringe.

Dangerous men don't give a f*ck

They know what they want, and they are proud of it.

14. NEVER PUT ALL HOPE ON ONE WOMAN

Stop texting her all day like she's the only one.

You are better than that.

15. STOP TRYING TO CONTROL EVERYTHING

Life is life. Stop trying to make it the way you wanted 100% of the time.

Sh*t happens, and it will keep on happening.

Let go, let life happen.

Do what's right diplomatically,because sometimes you may be wrong.
Always spend some time with yourself. Especially before sleeping, just close your eyes and think about what you've done in the past and what your goals are in the future, not being stressed, but calmly think about yourself.

U.S rejects shipments from Nigeria as Trump moves to stop Tinubu’s second term re-election bid Since Donald Trump’s tariff policy was put into effect, over 70% of shipments from Nigeria to the United States have either been denied entrance or put on hold at airports. This worrying trend has resulted in significant delays, posing major issues for importers and shippers operating in the US market, according to Ini Daniel, chief commercial officer of AAJ Express Logistics Limited, who made the announcement yesterday.

“Nigeria’s exporters are grappling with unprecedented challenges in shipping goods to the United States following the full enforcement of Trump’s new tariff regulations on April 2nd, 2025. Reports reveal that cargo and courier companies are facing severe difficulties with clearance into the U.S., resulting in a crisis for exporters. “The turmoil has been felt acutely within the airline industry, where carriers are now forced to offer significant discounts or even free returns due to the chaos surrounding tariff enforcement.

Adding to the frustration, exporters are left in a fog of confusion, as officials have not provided clear explanations for the refusals.” He stated that the problem was not unique to Nigeria, noting that the new rules also affected exporters from China, other African nations, and several European countries.

In light of the situation, he advised Nigerian exporters to temporarily suspend shipments to the United States until US Customs established clearer guidelines. on that would enable them to resume smooth trading operations with the United States, as uncertainty continued to loom. The plan, which targets over 180 countries, includes several African nations. The new tariff strategy, described by Trump as “kind,” seeks to address foreign tariffs, trade barriers, and alleged currency manipulation that the U.S. claims have hindered its businesses.

As noted by the White House in a post shared via X, countries without specific trade agreements with the US will now face a 10% baseline tariff on all imports into the U.S. The idea behind reciprocal tariffs is straightforward: if a country imposes high tariffs on U.S. goods, the U.S. will respond with a similar tariff on goods from that country. For Africa n nations like South Africa, Nigeria, and Kenya, which maintain long-standing trade agreements with the U.S., this policy could drastically alter their economic relations with the U.S.

Trump launched bilateral trade talks with roughly 75 nations on April 2, 2025, and imposed a 46% tariff on Vietnam and a 17% charge on the Philippines. He then reduced both tariffs to 10% for the following three months. Manufacturers claim that U.S. orders for their products have disappeared since Washington increased duties on Chinese imports by 145%.

Meanwhile, Primate Elijah Ayodele, the spiritual leader of the INRI Evangelical Spiritual Church, has warned President Bola Ahmed Tinubu on Friday about the US government’s influence in Nigerian politics, particularly with regard to Tinubu’s plans to run for a second term in 2027, according to the Daily Post.

In a statement released through his media aide, Osho Oluwatosin, the cleric revealed that the U.S. government is poised to be the most formidable opposition to Tinubu’s re-election bid and cautioned the president not to underestimate the gravity of this threat.

According to Primate Ayodele, the U.S. has hidden motives behind its increasing interest in Nigerian politics, and these motives are directly tied to undermining President Tinubu’s efforts to secure a second term.The prophet warned that if Tinubu does not take the situation seriously and remains unaware of the geopolitical strategies at play, it could ultimately jeopardize his political future. Primate Ayodele stated that President Tinubu must exercise great caution and remain vigilant, as the American government is working to unite forces against his bid for a second term.

He emphasized that this threat is not mere speculation but a spiritual insight he has received. “From what I am seeing, the US government would be Tinubu’s major opposition in 2027,” he added. The spiritual leader underscored that this message should not be dismissed or treated lightly. He stressed that he is not speaking from a political standpoint but from what he has spiritually discerned “If he likes, he can joke with this warning, but he is the one who has everything to lose. I am only delivering what I have seen,” Ayodele stated, pointing out that the potential consequences of ignoring this warning could be disastrous for Tinubu.Primate Ayodele also advised President Tinubu to redirect his focus. While Nigerian political parties and internal opposition may seem like the obvious challenge, he insisted that the real threat lies outside the country.He noted that, based on his spiritual vision, no Nigerian politician or party currently poses a serious challenge to Tinubu’s re-election bid. Instead, it is foreign interference — particularly from the U.S. — that should concern the president most. “He needs to be very careful about external involvements in Nigerian politics; they are seriously planning against him,” Ayodele warned again, emphasizing that the interference is calculated and intentional.The prophet urged President Tinubu to prioritize monitoring international influences over domestic political threats as 2027 approaches.

I Thought It Was Just a Taxi… I Had No Idea It Was the Beginning of Everything.”

It was raining. Not the soft kind that makes you smile. No—this was the kind that slapped you in the face, soaked your bones, and made you feel like the sky itself was against you.

I was exhausted.

Fifth job rejection this month. My plastic bag shoes were holding more water than my kitchen sink. And I hadn’t eaten since yesterday.

When I saw that black car parked by the curb, I didn’t think. I just... acted. Opened the door. Slid in. Slammed it shut behind me.

“Please just drive,” I said, not even looking at the driver. “I’ll pay you when I get there.”

Silence.

I remember wondering if he was deaf—or just heartless. I was shivering, annoyed, and already regretting it. But then the car moved.

He drove.

No questions. No protests. Just… silence and windshield wipers.

When we pulled up near my neighborhood—if you could call it that—I realized I had nothing to pay with. My voice cracked as I mumbled, “I—I’ll pay you tomorrow. I promise.”

That’s when he handed me a card. Smooth, thick. Embossed letters.

“If you ever need anything, call me,” he said.

I actually laughed. “What I need is a job, not empty promises.”

And I slammed the door, thinking I’d never see him again.

But life… life’s weird.

The next day, that same sleek black car pulled up near the street market where I sold roasted groundnuts. My heart stuttered.

He stepped out. Tall. Dressed like a man who owned half the city.

“You still didn’t call,” he said with a smirk.

I wiped my hands on my apron. “I told you. I don’t need charity.”

“Good,” he replied. “Because I’m not offering any. I need a personal assistant. Interested?”

My walls shot up instantly. “I don’t sleep with bosses.”

He chuckled. “I don’t mix business with pleasure. See you tomorrow. 9AM. Don’t be late.”

I still don’t know why I showed up.

Maybe I wanted to prove something. Maybe I just needed a break. But I stood outside Donovan Enterprises, heart thumping like crazy, in my only clean blouse and secondhand shoes.

The receptionist tried to block me—until he appeared, took my hand, and walked me upstairs like I was royalty.

The office froze. Whispers followed me. But I ignored them.

I worked. Hard. I stayed late. Took notes. Got better. Fast.

And Jace? He watched me. Not in a creepy way—but like he actually saw me.

The girl from the rain.

One night, I stood at the window after everyone left. He walked up, handed me his coat and car keys, and said, “This time… no need to pretend I’m a taxi.”

I smiled. For the first time in weeks, I smiled without pain.

People say love is soft. Ours wasn’t. It was wild, inconvenient, and impossible.

His board hated me. His world whispered I wasn’t good enough.

One day, I heard one of the executives call me “street trash.” That was it for me.

I wrote my resignation letter that night.

“I didn’t come to ruin your image,” I told him, placing the letter on his desk. “You gave me dignity. That’s enough.”

He reached for me. “You’re the only real thing in my life.”

But I walked away.

Months passed.

I found another job. Nothing fancy, but it was mine. I paid the bills. Took care of my mom. Lived quietly.

But I never knew… never knew that Jace was behind the hospital paying her chemo. That he made sure my siblings never missed school. Never knew how many nights he waited outside, just to make sure I was safe.

Sometimes, when I see a black car on the street, my heart still races.

Not because I’m hoping it’s him.

But because I know…

He never stopped caring.

To be continue ......

The pastor wives 3️⃣

Written by Oluchi M. Okike

How can the smallest voice in the room end the loudest war?
While three women battle for power, one quiet usher holds the truth that could tear down everything—and raise something unexpected in its place.

Joy Benson was the kind of woman no one noticed. She moved with the grace of someone used to staying in the background. A soft-spoken usher. A single mother. A face often hidden behind white gloves and church protocol. But on that Tuesday morning, she became the headline.

The Press Conference
The church gates were flooded again, but this time not with fighting wives or chanting members. Joy stood alone, flanked by two women from the legal aid clinic and a file of documents.

No makeup. No drama. Just quiet pain.

She held up a photograph—an old, blurry image of her and Pastor Gideon at a beachside retreat.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t shout. She simply said,
“He promised to protect us. But when I got pregnant, he begged me to keep it secret. Said it would destroy everything. So I did… for eight years.”

In the photograph, a small child could be seen playing in the background. Her daughter.

The media had questions. Too many. But Joy didn’t stay long.
She handed over the DNA report—signed, verified, and stamped.

And just like that, everything changed.

The Silence That Followed
Mama Glo refused to speak to the press.
Chinaza went completely off-grid.
Stella collapsed at a pharmacy later that day and was taken to the hospital.

Inside Fire River Ministries, the congregation began to murmur.
Some felt betrayed. Others confused. But the board had to act quickly.

By the following Sunday, a church bulletin was released:
“Pending further verification, the burial of Pastor Gideon is on hold.”

Chinaza’s Secrets Surface
Just when things seemed to settle, something unexpected broke online.

A clip.
Grainy, uncut, but chilling.

It showed a deliverance session from five years earlier. A private, behind-the-scenes moment somehow leaked to the internet.

In it, Pastor Gideon was praying over a woman possessed by a "marine spirit."
That woman… was Chinaza.

The video showed her writhing, screaming, speaking in a voice not her own.

And at the end, Pastor Gideon whispered something into her ear—words the microphone barely picked up.

But someone enhanced the audio and shared it again.

It sounded like he said:
“Your secrets are safe with me… as long as you stay mine.”

People were stunned.
Was Chinaza delivered—or marked?
Was she a wife—or something darker?

And if so… why would he marry her?

Stella’s Test Results Arrive
Meanwhile, Stella was discharged from the hospital.
Her test results came in.

The truth?

The child in her womb was not Pastor Gideon’s.

The betrayal cut deep. Not just for the church, but for Stella herself.
She had loved him. Or maybe… she had loved the platform.

In an emotional online video, she confessed:
“We were already drifting. I didn’t know I was pregnant until after his death. I thought… I could still belong.”

It went viral.

People wept. People mocked. People debated. But one thing was certain: Stella had nothing to gain anymore.

The Unexpected Shift
Then came the twist no one could have predicted.

Instead of hiding or fighting, Mama Glo did something no one expected.

She went live on Facebook.
She told her story—not with anger, but with grace.

How she met Gideon in the early days, when he was a young boy preaching with cracked lips and torn Bibles.

How she fed him, clothed him, prayed for him.

How she sold her wrappers to help him print flyers.

And how, after all the fame, he stopped calling her “wife” and started calling her “burden.”

But she ended with a smile.

“I don’t need his name to prove my worth. I knew who he was before the world knew. I only came to give him a proper burial. Now… let the truth rest with him.”

That video reached over 2 million views in two days.

And Then Came Joy
As the church leaders deliberated over what to do, the members quietly began to do something else.

They visited Joy.

Bags of food. School supplies. Little envelopes tucked with handwritten prayers.

A hashtag was born:
#WeChooseJoy

And for the first time since the chaos began, the church found unity—not through titles or tradition—but through compassion.

The Board decided to honor Pastor Gideon with a private burial.

No wife would lead.
No cameras.
Just peace.

And standing beside the casket, holding the hand of her daughter, was the woman no one had noticed… but who had always carried the truth.

Please like, share, comment and follow my page Oluchi M. Okike so you don't miss episode 4️⃣

THE MAN WHO NEVER SPOKE TO HIS WIFE

Chapter 5

The next morning, the tray was there again.

Different food this time—pap and akara. Still hot. Still untouched by human hands.

I hadn’t even heard the door open.

I pushed the tray aside, my stomach too tight to eat. My head was pounding from fear and confusion. Every corner of this house whispered things I couldn’t hear properly.

I needed to get out.

I slipped on the flats I found under the bed and crept toward the door.

Unlocked.

I peered into the hallway. Empty.

The same long, cream-colored corridor stretched ahead of me. Too clean. Too dead. Only the faint hum of electricity and the blinking cameras reminded me that I wasn’t alone.

I moved quietly, passing door after door. Some were slightly open, revealing rooms that looked too perfect to be real—like nobody had ever used them.

Then I saw it.

The red door.

It was there, just like before. Deep, dark red. It looked even more out of place now in the blinding white hallway.

I stepped closer, heart hammering against my ribs.

Something about that door pulled me. Like it was breathing. Waiting.

I stretched my hand out—slowly. My fingers barely grazed the handle when—

"Amara."

I jumped, spinning around.

It was a woman.

Tall. Slim. In a simple black dress. Skin the color of roasted coffee beans. Sharp eyes, too sharp for someone who smiled so sweetly.

"You shouldn’t be here," she said.

My throat was dry. "Who... who are you?"

She smiled wider, like it was funny. "I'm Kemi. I work here."

I swallowed hard. "What is this place?"

Instead of answering, she stepped closer, blocking my view of the red door.

"Come with me," she said, her voice low, urgent.

Something inside me screamed not to trust her. But what choice did I have?

I followed her down the hall, away from the red door, my steps shaking.

"You’re lucky," Kemi said as we walked. "He chose you."

That word again. Lucky.

We entered a small sitting room. Dark wood furniture. Heavy velvet curtains drawn over the windows.

No way out.

Kemi turned to face me. "Listen carefully. The rules are simple. Don't go near the red door. Don’t ask too many questions. Do what you're told."

I shook my head. "This is insane. I didn’t agree to this."

Her smile faded. "You signed. You wore the ring. You're his now."

A chill ran down my spine.

I remembered the note. You agreed to this.

Tears filled my eyes. "I want to go home."

"There is no home anymore," Kemi said softly.

Suddenly, her eyes darted to the camera in the corner. She lowered her voice even more.

"If you want to survive here... pretend to be happy. Pretend to obey. And whatever you do..."
She leaned in so close I could feel her breath.
"...never open that door."

Before I could answer, footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Heavy. Slow. Measured.

Kemi straightened, her face blank, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

And then he appeared.

Dami.

Still dressed in black. Still silent. But now... something different.

His dark eyes locked onto mine. Unblinking. Searching.

I felt like he could see straight into my soul.

He didn't speak.

He didn't have to.

Because his silence screamed louder than any voice ever could.

And deep inside, I knew...

The worst had not even started yet.

To receive notification whenever I post, then follow this page Akponwei John Michael

Next chapter comes after:
4k likes, 400 comments, & 100

Part 1:

As he sat down, waiting for his lawyers and his children’s lawyer to hear his final testament, Mr. HackEarth reflected on all his life-long escapades. Despite the billions he had accrued, they mattered little to him now. He was too old and feeble to enjoy any of it. And now, here he was, about to divide his money to his ungrateful children and ex-wives.

The thought of how his children had gone wayward and disappointing hurts him more. His children were greedy and extravagant. They hold no love for Old Hackman except for his money. He knows it too well and He despised all of them, and he was ready to punish them one last time before setting his plans in motion.

The lawyers from both parties were seated in Mr. HackEarth’s exquisite and luxurious office on the 40th floor of his favorite glass skyscraper. Camcorders were set up to document the entire proceeding.

Mr. Date, HackEarth’s personal secretary of over 30 years, gently wheeled him toward where the lawyers were seated.

Papers shifted from one lawyer to another. Subtle whispers filled the room, and carefully restrained laughter warmly expressed. His children and ex-wives watched from various conference rooms, leaping with joy as they saw their father wheeled in—anticipating the final testament that would make them rich.

The psychiatrists arrived to examine Mr. HackEarth’s testamentary capacity, verifying whether he was fit to sign a will that will dispose of his assets upon his death. Everything checked out with the old man. His children’s lawyers were satisfied. Greedy lawyers waiting to charge big fee from their clients.

Mr. Stafford brought in a huge stack of documents and laid them carefully on the table. The children, slouched in their chairs, watched keenly, their spirits high as they observed everything being telecasted live to them.

Mr. HackEarth pulled a pen from his breast pocket and began scribbling something before signing it. He handed the document to Mr. Stafford, then ordered everyone to leave the room—except for his secretary and his lawyers, Mr. Stafford and his associate, Mr. Weller. The live telecast ended abruptly.

He then produced a single sheet of paper, on which was boldly written:

"I, John HackEarth, Having been determined that I am of sound mind to declare my will, I hereby revoke all wills and codicils executed by me and dispose of my estate as follows. To my children, I leave a sum of money sufficient only to pay off their existing debts—with no provision for any new debts incurred after today. Should any of my children attempt to contest this will, they shall thereby forfeit any gift herein. To my ex-wives, I leave nothing, as they were adequately provided for during our divorces.

I hereby bequeath the remainder of my estate to my daughter, Lynne, born to Joycelin Camel. I appoint my lawyer, James Stafford as executor of this will and grant him broad discretion in its administration ."

He signed it, sealed it in an envelope, and handed it to Stafford.

Then, with all his might, Mr. HackEarth leaped from his wheelchair and staggered toward the windows. Everyone in the room was stunned to see Old Hackman on his feet for the first time in three years. They froze, unsure how to react to his sudden movement. Instinctively, Mr. Date lunged forward to stop him—but before he could reach him, Old Hackman slid open the window and hurled himself forward.

The lawyers rushed to the window just in time to see Mr. HackEarth’s body plummet to the ground below. He was dead.


Part 2: Coming soon.
Summarized by: Reindolf J. Botchway

Disclaimer: This is my personal summary of an excerpt from The Testament
by John Grisham—a story I found so gripping, I had to share! To avoid spoilers and add my own flair, I tweaked some details, changed character names, and sprinkled in a twist or two based on my interpretation. The core plot belongs to the brilliant John Grisham, so credit where it’s due!

The One Law I Live By
Absulatly Right Claim it

Financial Freedom
Wealth Mindset
Abundance
Rich Lifestyle
Passive Income
Money Motivation
Business Success
Financial Growth
Prosperity Quotes
Success Affirmations

--+----

This is what we have to deal with.
What gave this 100 level university student moral to proposed to his girlfriend during matriculation.(First School Entrance)

I hope he is the one training himself in school?
Instead of them focusing on their studies.
Some people might be like 'leave them alone'! They're not supposed to be left alone because it might result to su!c!dal thoughts just like the UEW of Ghana

A BOSS FIRES HIS POOR GARDENER, HUMILIATING HIM—ON HIS LAST DAY, HE FOUND A BOX BURIED IN THE BACKYARD.

Arthur had worked for this wealthy family for nearly 35 years. He started out as a gardener for Jared, the old man of the house—a kind, classy businessman who genuinely respected Arthur. They were real friends. Sometimes, they'd even garden together just for fun.

A few months ago, Jared passed away. Everything—his estate, money, the whole property—went to his son, Stuart. Let me tell you, Stuart was nothing like his father. Entitled, lazy, arrogant, and always rude to Arthur. He'd hated him since childhood.

So one day, after getting dumped (again) by his gold-digger girlfriend, Stuart totally snapped. He yelled at Arthur, called him names, and finally said, "This is your last day here!"

Arthur didn't say a word. He just took off his uniform and walked out to a quiet corner of the garden—Jared's favorite spot. They used to work side by side there, planting and laughing. Arthur hadn't set foot there since Jared died. Too painful.

But as he sat down, lost in memories, he noticed the soil looked freshly disturbed. Something was buried there.

Curious, Arthur leaned in and started digging with his bare hands.

AFTER 40 YEARS, THEY FIRED HIM - THEN HE DISCOVERED HE OWNED THE COMPANY ALL ALONG

For Eddie, the company wasn't just a workplace - it had been his life. He'd been there since its founding, pouring his heart into every project. After losing his wife and watching his son move across the country, those office walls became his only comfort.

Then came the letter that shattered his world: "We regret to inform you your position has been made redundant." The new CEO - old Mr. Benson's arrogant grandson - was cleaning house, tossing aside loyal employees like outdated equipment.

With shaking hands, Eddie packed forty years of memories into a single cardboard box. The following weeks stretched endlessly, each empty day heavier than the last.

Until the phone rang.

"Eddie? Alexander here, Mr. Benson's attorney. We've been trying to reach you. According to his final wishes, you've just inherited controlling interest in the company. When can you come sign the paperwork?"

The receiver nearly slipped from Eddie's grasp. "That... that can't be right. Why would he... why me?"

WHAT HAPPENED NEXT WILL RESTORE YOUR FAITH IN JUSTICE - KEEP READING!

The Nigerian girl who went missing in Lagos has been found in another state. The girl was on her way to where she would write JAMB but sent a message to her sister mentioned what she was going through in a car. Her brother mentioned the actual place they found her.
Photo: X/Rickson