Benue state governor Hyacinth Alia says he doesn't advocate for SELF-DEFENSE. Never heard a more USELESS statement. I hope he doesn't get a second tenure.

The 27 lies we we can remember we were was told while we were growing up in Africa

1. If you drink garri or coke after eating mango, you'll d!e.

2. You must throw your fallen tooth on the roof before it can grow back.

3. When you sing & wave to the egret birds, you'll get white spots on your fingernails.

4. If it is raining and there is sun at the same time, it means that a lion or monkey is giving birth.

5. India won Nigeria 99-1 in a football match.

6. When you bend and look back in between your legs, you'll see spirits.

7. A mother and her son breaking firewood in the Moon as punishment, because they went to the farm on a Sunday and the Moon carried them.

8. Don't wear ruber bands because it drains blood.

9. If you eat while kneeling, you will never get satisfied because the devīl will be taking some.

10. If you blow air inside a pencil sharpener, it won't sharpen pencils anymore.

11. If anyone jumps or crosses you while you're sitting or lying down on the floor, you will never grow tall again until the person repeats the process.

12. If your parents send you on an errand and you came back late, to escape floggīng or punishment, you need to tie together certain leaves in the bush.

13. If you come to school late, in order not to feel pains during flogging, you need to put a stone in your mouth.

14. When you swallow a seed, especially African star apple seeds (Udara), it will germinate and grow in your stomach.

15. The coconut water is only for the elders.

16. As a young girl, if a boy touches you, it'll result to pregnancy.

17. If you whistle at night, you're calling the evīl spirits and serpents.

18. If someone bites you while fighting and you rub a fowl faeces on it, the person's teeths will fall off.

19. If you sweep the room late in the night, all your blessings will go away.

20. If you look at the mirror at night, you'll see a ghost

21. If you wash your plate immediately after eating you are washing away what you ate.

22 that we are one Nigeria

23. Police is your friend

24. The youth are the leaders of tomorrow

25. Your vote will surely count so come out and vote

26. Bail is free

27. Judiciary is the last hope of the common man

Add yours……..

Standing Strong
"Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior." - Habakkuk 3:17-18

In times of uncertainty, it's easy to feel overwhelmed. But as the proverb goes, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." We can choose to find the silver lining and stand strong.

Perseverance Pays
"Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." - James 1:4

The proverb "Fall seven times, stand up eight" reminds us that perseverance is key to overcoming challenges. Every setback is an opportunity to learn and grow.

Trust in God's Plan
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11

The proverb "Man proposes, God disposes" encourages us to trust in God's sovereignty. He has a plan to prosper us, and we can rest in His goodness.

Community Matters
"Two are better than one... If either of them falls down, one can help the other up." - Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

The proverb "United we stand, divided we fall" highlights the importance of community support. Together, we can overcome even the toughest challenges.

Conclusion
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." - Romans 8:28

May these words of hope and encouragement inspire you to stand strong in the face of adversity. May you find perseverance, trust, and community support to guide you through challenging times. May God bless and guide you towards a brighter future.

Heavenly Father, You are the sanctuary for my soul, the healer of the deepest wounds. I lift my voice to You, knowing that You hear my every sigh and collect my every tear. In this sacred space, I thank You for drawing near, for never leaving me in my moments of need. Your love is the balm for every heartache, Your Word the salve for every hurt.

I ask You now, tender and compassionate God, to knit together the fragments of my spirit. Where there is brokenness, bring Your restoration. Where there is despair, shine Your light of hope. You are the artist of my life's journey, and I trust in Your skillful hands to make beauty from these ashes.

May Your steadfast love be my comfort, Your unending mercy my guide. In the blessed name of Jesus, the One who bore my sorrows to bring me peace, I offer this prayer. Amen.

You will not find a love that is perfect, but you will find a love that sees you. The kind that brings down your walls, that asks you to share the parts of your soul you have tucked away and kept hidden from the world.

You will not find a love that is perfect, but you will find a love that shows you it’s okay to be someone who carries both hope and hurt. It’s okay to be someone who hasn’t always known how to calm the storms in their heart.

And this love, it will hold you there. It will not judge you for the ways you have to heal your sadness, for the ways you show up in this world. Not just when you seem perfect, but even when you’re struggling. When you’re completely open and vulnerable. It won’t leave when you show your true self.

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 11
The silence behind the door was a living thing, thick and suffocating. Scar’s pleas had dwindled into ragged breaths, his forehead pressed against the cool wood, his powerful frame slumped in defeat. The raw vulnerability he’d shown – the begging, the panic – had scraped him hollow. He’d faced down armies, orchestrated empires built on fear, yet here he was, brought to his knees by the silence of one woman. The image of Jessica hearing Amanda’s vicious poison, the thought of her believing even a fraction of it, was a physical wound in his chest.
Then, a sound. Faint. A scrape of metal. The softest click.
Scar froze, his breath catching. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the heavy bedroom door inched open.
Jessica stood there, backlit by the dim light filtering through the curtains. The sight tore through Scar like shrapnel. Her eyes, usually bright with intelligence or warm with affection, were swollen almost shut, raw and red-rimmed from hours of crying. Tear tracks had carved paths through the faint flush of humiliation still staining her cheeks. Her posture was defeated, shoulders slumped inward as if trying to make herself disappear. She looked impossibly young, fragile, and utterly broken. The vibrant, determined woman he loved seemed reduced to a ghost of herself.
"Jessica..." The name was a choked whisper.
Before he could say more, she flinched, taking a half-step back into the room’s shadows. The movement, the sheer *hurt* radiating from her, shattered the last remnants of his control. He surged forward, not with force, but with a desperate, aching need. He crossed the threshold and gathered her into his arms, pulling her fragile form against his chest with infinite gentleness, as if she were spun glass.
She was stiff at first, unyielding. But as his arms closed around her, as the familiar scent and solid warmth of him enveloped her, a tremor ran through her. Then another. A choked sob escaped her lips, muffled against his shirt.
"Baby,"
Scar murmured, his voice thick with remorse, his own eyes burning.
He buried his face in her hair, breathing her in, anchoring himself.
"I’m sorry. God, Jessica, I am so, so sorry."
His arms tightened, a protective cag.e
. "I should have told you. Everything. About her, about the past, about the ****** engagement
that meant nothing*
." His voice cracked.
"I was a coward. I thought… I thought if I buried it deep enough
, it would just go away.
I never imagined… I never dreamed she’d come here, that she’d…" He couldn’t even bring himself to repeat Amanda’s words.
"I’m sorry you found out like this. I’m sorry she hurt you. Please… please forgive me."
Jessica pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. Her tear-filled eyes searched his face, filled with a pain that mirrored his own.
"Why,
Scar?" Her voice was a raw whisper, scraped thin by tears and despair
. "Why didn't you tell me? I… I thought you loved me. I thought you trusted me."
A fresh wave of tears spilled over.
"She… she humiliated me. Called me… called me horrible things. Names I… I heard in the slums."
Her breath hitched.
"And maybe… maybe she's right? Maybe I am just a… a home wrecker?
Coming between destiny?" Her voice broke completely. "Just… just let me go, Scar. Please. Stay away from me. It’s better… it’s better this way."
"The words"
‘let me go’
were ice water down his spine. Panic, colder and sharper than any battlefield fear, seized him. His hands tightened on her arms, not to hurt, but to anchor, to keep her from vanishing.
"No!"
The word was a low roar, laced with desperation.
"You go *nowhere*, Jessica! Do you understand? *Nowhere!*"
He forced his voice down, trying to sound rational through the terror.
"It’s not safe.
Not out there alone. My enemies… they watch. They’d grab you the second you stepped foot outside unprotected.
Please, baby."
He cupped her face, his thumbs wiping away her tears, his eyes pleading.
"Listen to me. I broke it off with her five years ago. It was *over*. Finished. She was toxic, dangerous… *insane*. That’s why I sent her away. To protect people *from* her."
Jessica searched his eyes, the turmoil within her warring with the undeniable love and fear she saw reflected back.
"Then… then why is she here?" she whispered, a fresh tremor in her voice.
Scar took a deep, steadying breath.
"She’s… manipulative. She twisted things, lied, to get back. But she won’t stay. She *can’t* stay." His voice firmed with conviction. "She’ll be gone. Soon. A few days, maybe less. Her father… he’ll come for her. He knows the deal. He knows what happens if she stays." He leaned his forehead against hers, his voice dropping to an intense, intimate murmur.
"Please, baby. Please trust me, just a little longer. I love you. More than anything. More than this empire, more than my own life. You are my destiny. Not her. Never her." He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her tear-stained cheeks, each touch a fervent vow. "Everything… everything will be alright. I swear it. I’ll make it alright."
For a moment, the world contracted to just the two of them in the dim room. Jessica leaned into him, a fragile hope battling the deep-seated hurt. His words, his touch, the raw sincerity in his eyes, were a balm on her wounded spirit. She started to nod, a tiny, hesitant movement, her fingers tightening slightly on his shirt.
Then, the spell shattered.
A sound like shattering crystal – cold, sharp laughter – echoed from the doorway. Amanda stood there, leaning casually against the frame, impeccably dressed now in tailored slacks and a silk blouse, her blonde curls perfect. She was slowly clapping her hands, a cruel, mocking smile twisting her beautiful face.
"What a touching performance,"
she drawled, her voice dripping with venomous amusement.
"Really, Sebastian,
you should be on stage. The reformed villain, the devoted lover… it’s almost believable." She pushed off the doorframe and took a step into the room, her dark eyes fixed on Jessica with predatory glee.
"News flash, darling," she spat the word at Scar, "I’m not packing my bags. I’m not going anywhere.
Did you really think I’d sit quietly in Italy while this… this gutter rat" her voice rose, sharp and hateful on the slur, "takes my place? Takes what’s mine? Scar, never—"
The crack of the slap echoed like a gunshot in the sudden, shocked silence.
Amanda’s head snapped sideways with brutal force. The mocking smile vanished, replaced by utter, stunned disbelief. A vivid red handprint bloomed across her flawless cheek. She staggered back a step, her hand flying to her face, her eyes wide with shock and dawning rage. Silence, thick and heavy, descended. Jessica gasped, frozen.
Scar stood rigid, his hand still raised, his face a mask of cold, terrifying fury. Every ounce of the feared underworld king was present in that moment, radiating lethal intent. His voice, when it came, was dangerously low, quieter than a whisper yet carrying the weight of absolute command.
"How *dare* you," he breathed,
the words slicing through the air like shards of ice.
"How dare you call my woman that filth. In my presence. In *her* home."
He took a single, deliberate step towards Amanda, who shrank back, genuine fear flickering in her eyes for the first time.
"You have exactly until tomorrow mor
ning," Scar continued, his voice gaining volume, becoming a thunderous roar that seemed to shake the room, "to be OUT of my house. Out of my city. Out of my *life*. Do you understand me? GONE!"
Amanda recovered slightly, her shock morphing into indignant fury. Her hand dropped from her cheek. "But… but Sebastian! Did you just slap me? Because of this… this dirt?!" Her voice rose hysterically.
Scar moved faster than thought. In a blur, his hand dipped beneath his jacket and came up holding a sleek, black pistol. He leveled it directly between Amanda’s wide, terrified eyes. The metallic *click* of the safety disengaging was obscenely loud.
"One. More. Word. "Scar’s voice was glacial, devoid of all emotion except lethal promise. His finger tightened on the trigger.
"One more insult. One more syllable out of your poisonous mouth. And I swear on everything I am, I *will* put a bullet in your head. Right here. Right now."
Amanda froze, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream, all color draining from her face. The raw, homicidal intent in Scar’s eyes was undeniable. He wasn't bluffing.
The standoff lasted only a heartbeat, but it felt like an eternity. Then, a choked cry broke the tension. Jessica, unable to bear the violence, the gun, the terrifying look on Scar’s face, the palpable hatred radiating from Amanda, turned and fled. She darted past Scar, past the frozen Amanda, and ran out of the bedroom door, down the hallway towards the stairs, desperate for air, for escape, for anywhere but this suffocating nightmare.
Scar’s head snapped towards her fleeing figure, the gun still trained on Amanda. "JESSICA!" he roared, the fury in his voice instantly replaced by panic. The woman he’d just sworn to protect was running headlong into the unknown, and the most dangerous threat was still standing in his bedroom, a gun pointed at her face. The sanctuary was shattered, and chaos reigned.
TO BE CONTINUED...

I DO NOT BOAST I AM A CAPTAIN

On darkest nights, mid-ocean wide,
my boat and I with waves collide.
Why, Poseidon, such disdain?
Am I to blame I steer my reign?
The storm will hurl us through the sky,
then slam us down, yet still we try.
I fear, but cry not out in pride,
nor claim I rule this raging tide.
Should I not reach the harbor near—
the table waits for fish and cheer.
If I don’t make it, someone grieves...
That’s why, that’s why—I fight to leave!
What marvels rise—I never tell,
nor fear, nor hope where sea-storms dwell.
No sailor bows to tales or fame,
to say this wrecked boat bore my name.

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal: It is the courage to continue that counts."— Winston Churchill

Every person who's ever achieved something great has stood exactly where you are right now—exhausted, questioning, wondering if the struggle is worth it. The path to greatness isn't smooth or easy. It's messy. It's full of setbacks that sting and moments when quitting seems like the only sane option.

But here's what separates those who make it from those who don't: When they fell, they looked up. When they hurt, they wiped their tears. When the world said "stop," they took one more step.

Winners are not people who never struggle. They’re people who refuse to stay down.

Life doesn't test us randomly—it prepares us. The bigger your dream, the tougher the challenges. That initial excitement will fade. What remains is your choice: Will you keep going when everything in you wants to quit?

You might stumble today. That's normal. Get up anyway. Take the next step. Then another. Greatness isn't about never falling—it's about always rising.

Because here’s what I know: You were not made to give up. You were made to push through. To rise. To keep moving, even when it hurts.

Greatness isn’t for the lucky or the fearless. It’s for the ones who refuse to quit.

You weren't created to surrender. You were built to endure, to overcome, to rise stronger every time. This isn't just motivation—it's your truth.

"But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." — Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)

Greatness isn’t handed out; it’s fought for. So keep moving. One step. Then another. And another. Your story isn’t over yet.

Wishing you a great weekend.

©Godlove NJISONG

Bra Joe, Food and Pregnancy

In the quiet village of Ga-Mphahlele, somewhere deep in Limpopo, a serious drama was brewing not in the government, but in a small kitchen behind a shack.

Meet Sibongile, a woman with an appetite that could humble a lion. She was glowing with what everyone thought was a pregnancy. Her stomach entered the room five seconds before she did. Her husband, Bra Joe, a retired taxi driver turned house chef, had taken over cooking duties ever since she said the smell of onions made her dizzy.

On this fine afternoon, Sibongile sat outside, legs spread like a queen on her throne, devouring a big bowl of soup with pap. She licked her fingers and sighed,
My husband, the soup you prepared today again is very sweet oh

Bra Joe stood nearby with a big cooking spoon in hand, wearing his famous pink apron that read Chef of Love. But this time, he didn’t smile. He squinted at her belly, leaned on his spoon, and asked:

I say, when did the doctor say you giving birth

Silence. Even the chickens behind the house paused.

Sibongile blinked. Ah-ahn, baby, why are you asking like that now

Bra Joe looked at the empty pot, then at her belly, then back at the pot.

Because this is the 4th month now. Every day you say the baby is kicking, but I think it's the chicken stew kicking inside you

Sibongile gasped. You are saying I’m not pregnant

Bra Joe pointed his spoon like a microphone.
I'’m saying, if this is pregnancy, then I’m the one expecting twins, because I haven’t eaten meat since January

Neighbours started peeking over the fence, chewing on gossip like it was chakalaka.

Old Mama Dineo shouted from next door,
Haaibo! Maybe she’s just food-pregnant, my son. The way she eats, even the fridge is afraid to open at night

Sibongile stood up slowly her belly wobbling like a drum full of jelly. She stormed into the house shouting,
I’m going to the clinic now. You will see the baby scan today

Bra Joe just shook his head, walked to the pot, and whispered:
I hope the doctor doesn’t find meat bones in that scan

In South Africa, love is sweet but if your pap disappears faster than your bank balance, ask questions before the belly grows too big.

Coming next week.."Bra Joe installs a food padlock on the fridge

So many in my mind,many things on my head... don't just know where to start from...just hope am not loosing it

Too many things in my mind,so many things on my head... can't picture where to start from... but just hope I'm not loosing my cernity