Most people know me as Mr. Ibu’s adopted daughter. But what they don’t know is how that bond came to be. My biological father was a soldier and a very close friend to Mr. Ibu. A brave man. But he passed away when I was still very young. That’s when Mr. Ibu stepped in — took me under his wing, raised me, loved me like I was his own blood.
He sent me to school, supported me, and when the time came, I travelled to Cyprus to further my studies. Life went on.
Then in 2020, I received a strange message on WhatsApp. It read, “Please, help… Daddy needs you.” At first, I thought it was a scam. But something inside me told me to check.
That’s when I discovered that Mr. Ibu had moved from Abuja to Lagos… and he was suffering. He had nothing — no support, no stable home. Sick, broke, and abandoned.
Every day, he begged me for money. And I sent what I could. Over and over. Until I got tired and asked, “What exactly is going on, Daddy?”
When I finally learned how sick he really was — and that nobody, not even family, was taking care of him — I booked a flight back to Nigeria immediately.
When I saw him, I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was a shadow of the man I knew. Thin. Weak. Broken.
I took him straight to the hospital and cared for him like my own father.
And it was there, lying on that hospital bed, that he said something that shook me to my core.
He looked at me and whispered, “Jasmine… they want me dead. That’s the truth. They don’t care about me. They only want my properties. They’re waiting for me to die so they can take everything I worked for.”
He paused, looked away, and said with pain in his voice, “Even my wife — the woman I called my own — cheated on me. Jasmine, don’t let her come near me. I’ll never trust her again. Even if I die, know this: I never found peace in this world. Not in my marriage… not in my home.”
Those were his words. His truth. Not rumors. Not gossip.
The man who made the whole world laugh died with tears in his heart — not just from sickness, but from heartbreak, betrayal, and neglect.
I was the only one who stood by him when everyone else turned their backs.
So I ask you — where were those who claimed to love him? Why did they wait until his death to pretend?
Rest well, Mr. Ibu. Your laughter lives on. Your pain is no longer hidden.
If this story touched you, drop a candle for late Mr. Ibu.
#tinglespicey #fypシviralシ2025 #mazitundeednut #viralreelschallenge #Afrocania #veekeejames #nollywoodonline #PulseViral #nollywoodcelebrities #nollywood
He sent me to school, supported me, and when the time came, I travelled to Cyprus to further my studies. Life went on.
Then in 2020, I received a strange message on WhatsApp. It read, “Please, help… Daddy needs you.” At first, I thought it was a scam. But something inside me told me to check.
That’s when I discovered that Mr. Ibu had moved from Abuja to Lagos… and he was suffering. He had nothing — no support, no stable home. Sick, broke, and abandoned.
Every day, he begged me for money. And I sent what I could. Over and over. Until I got tired and asked, “What exactly is going on, Daddy?”
When I finally learned how sick he really was — and that nobody, not even family, was taking care of him — I booked a flight back to Nigeria immediately.
When I saw him, I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was a shadow of the man I knew. Thin. Weak. Broken.
I took him straight to the hospital and cared for him like my own father.
And it was there, lying on that hospital bed, that he said something that shook me to my core.
He looked at me and whispered, “Jasmine… they want me dead. That’s the truth. They don’t care about me. They only want my properties. They’re waiting for me to die so they can take everything I worked for.”
He paused, looked away, and said with pain in his voice, “Even my wife — the woman I called my own — cheated on me. Jasmine, don’t let her come near me. I’ll never trust her again. Even if I die, know this: I never found peace in this world. Not in my marriage… not in my home.”
Those were his words. His truth. Not rumors. Not gossip.
The man who made the whole world laugh died with tears in his heart — not just from sickness, but from heartbreak, betrayal, and neglect.
I was the only one who stood by him when everyone else turned their backs.
So I ask you — where were those who claimed to love him? Why did they wait until his death to pretend?
Rest well, Mr. Ibu. Your laughter lives on. Your pain is no longer hidden.
If this story touched you, drop a candle for late Mr. Ibu.
#tinglespicey #fypシviralシ2025 #mazitundeednut #viralreelschallenge #Afrocania #veekeejames #nollywoodonline #PulseViral #nollywoodcelebrities #nollywood
Most people know me as Mr. Ibu’s adopted daughter. But what they don’t know is how that bond came to be. My biological father was a soldier and a very close friend to Mr. Ibu. A brave man. But he passed away when I was still very young. That’s when Mr. Ibu stepped in — took me under his wing, raised me, loved me like I was his own blood.
He sent me to school, supported me, and when the time came, I travelled to Cyprus to further my studies. Life went on.
Then in 2020, I received a strange message on WhatsApp. It read, “Please, help… Daddy needs you.” At first, I thought it was a scam. But something inside me told me to check.
That’s when I discovered that Mr. Ibu had moved from Abuja to Lagos… and he was suffering. He had nothing — no support, no stable home. Sick, broke, and abandoned.
Every day, he begged me for money. And I sent what I could. Over and over. Until I got tired and asked, “What exactly is going on, Daddy?”
When I finally learned how sick he really was — and that nobody, not even family, was taking care of him — I booked a flight back to Nigeria immediately.
When I saw him, I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was a shadow of the man I knew. Thin. Weak. Broken.
I took him straight to the hospital and cared for him like my own father.
And it was there, lying on that hospital bed, that he said something that shook me to my core.
He looked at me and whispered, “Jasmine… they want me dead. That’s the truth. They don’t care about me. They only want my properties. They’re waiting for me to die so they can take everything I worked for.”
He paused, looked away, and said with pain in his voice, “Even my wife — the woman I called my own — cheated on me. Jasmine, don’t let her come near me. I’ll never trust her again. Even if I die, know this: I never found peace in this world. Not in my marriage… not in my home.”
Those were his words. His truth. Not rumors. Not gossip.
The man who made the whole world laugh died with tears in his heart — not just from sickness, but from heartbreak, betrayal, and neglect.
I was the only one who stood by him when everyone else turned their backs.
So I ask you — where were those who claimed to love him? Why did they wait until his death to pretend?
Rest well, Mr. Ibu. Your laughter lives on. Your pain is no longer hidden.
If this story touched you, drop a candle 🕯️ for late Mr. Ibu.
#tinglespicey #fypシviralシ2025 #mazitundeednut #viralreelschallenge #Afrocania #veekeejames #nollywoodonline #PulseViral #nollywoodcelebrities #nollywood
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