HOW TO TALK TO YOUR MAN ABOUT A SENSITIVE ISSUE

We sometimes complain that the men don't want to talk or listen. Here's some things that could help..

WATCH YOUR TONE
When upset or frustrated, your tone could easily become sharp, harsh, condescending and full of coldness. A man doesn't like engaging anyone with such a tone. Approach him with peace and the issue will be resolved in peace

TIMING
Straight after work is not the time for a deep talk. One is mentally and physically tired. Let him relax first, put his feet up and approach the subject at a good time

WATCH YOUR EYES
Men get repelled by condescending and mean eyes. I'm sure you would too

DON'T ENGAGE HIM WHEN HE IS DRUNK
If your man is they type that gets intoxicated, don't bother yourself to talk serious issues. Wait till he is sober to have a meaningful talk

DON'T CONFRONT HIM IN FRONT OF YOUR CHILD(REN)
Infront of the kids be cordial, smile, show unity and when it's just you and him, then talk about the issue

DON'T ACCUSE HIM FALSELY
Some women do this. However, this is the easiest way to make him feel attacked and to break the delicate fabric of trust between you two. Before you jump into conclusions, ask him questions politely. Talk with facts. Don't interrogate, politely ask.

DON'T CAUSE A SCENE
A man loses respect for a woman who causes a scene in public or in front of family or friends

SOOTHE HIM
If you want to introduce a topic that has been bothering you, hold on to it. Prepare him his favourite meal, do things that make him feel good. While he is in a good mood, lovingly introduce the issue for discussion

BE IN CONTROL OF YOUR EMOTIONS
If the issue is heavy, be prepared for a conversation that will be heavy on your heart but remain calm and collected. Being frantic and delirious will not aid your cause.

NO INSULTS
Watch your tongue. Keep calm. Insulting him or parading his weaknesses and past mistakes will complicate things. You need him to know you are on the same team

DON'T INTRODUCE OTHER PEOPLE'S OPINIONS
Don't tell him things like 'Even my mum thinks you should...', 'My friend Kajwang who is a man thinks we should...", "Zamira says her husband..." Don't show him you talk about your personal issues with outsiders. Don't show him you value other people's opinion more than his. Don't show him your motivation is based on comparing you two with other couples

BOOST HIS EGO A TAD ;)
Appreciate him more than you criticize him. If you want a man to grow in doing good, praise him for the good he does big and small. When you make him feel like a hero each time he pleases you, he will love pleasing you and will listen moreBest gifts for your loved ones

DON'T BOY HIM
Don't talk down at him. He should never feel disrespected by the woman he has committed to. He hates it when you baby-sit him

DON'T TALK AT HIM
Talk with him. Give him time to speak, don't run your mouth. It should be a two way conversation, not an order

TALK AFTER MAKING LOVE
You can choose to talk about the issue after making love. At that time, both of you are feeling most in love. Talk intimately and peacefully about the issue, he is so receptive to all you say at that timeBest gifts for your loved ones

TAKE HIM ON A DATE
Or you can take him to a place outside home where he will be more conscious of his demeanour in public. An outside setting also breaks the monotony of home. Talk about the issue over a date

DON'T MAKE HIM FEEL UNEASY
Men get unsettled by the words 'We need to talk'. Ease off the pressure by not putting him on the hot seat

DON'T PUSH HIM
Don't pressure him to conclude the issue. If he needs time to think through what you have talked with him about, give him time. Sometimes a man needs to arrange his thoughts in his "me" time. You have had ample time to think about the issue, probably more time than him

BE FLEXIBLE
Perhaps after you talk, he might not see things your way or the outcome may not be as you anticipated. Don't have a fixed mind, you two have to come to a joint agreement. Some times also you will need to exercise patience
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Important things to remember when you are married or in a serious relationship...✍🏽

Don’t ever assume your partner feels loved.

Date nights are a must.
Doesn’t matter if you go out, or stay in.

Talking openly about what you want to change in your relationship is important.

Learn each others love language. Best gifts for your loved ones
We all don’t perceive love the same way.

Go to bed mad sometimes.
Don’t force a resolution.
Sleeping on it does help.

When you get into a fight, don’t just say “I’m sorry”. Say what you are sorry for, and how you will react differently next time.

It will get boring sometimes. Best gifts for your loved ones
Every couple goes through the “boring” stage.
It’s normal.
It will fade.
This is the time in your relationship you will have to put the most effort in.

Some days you will have to pull more weight than your partner, and vice versa.

It’s important to check in on each other’s mental health.

It’s okay to go to couples counselling.
It helps.
It doesn’t mean you two are ending, or failing.

Talk about money.
Talk about your financial goals.
Let your partner know what you expect from them, and vice versa.

Turn off the phones an hour before bedtime and just talk to each other.

Ask questions like

“What do you need to see more of from me?”
“How can we understand each other better?”

And most importantly, be kind to each other.

Love each other. Best gifts for your loved ones

Fight for each other.

Remember, love is never easy, and it’s one hell of a ride.

But damn, is it ever beautiful, and worth it..
➥𝐼𝑓 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 & 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑒>

Money made so far by teams qualified for Quarter-Finals of the FIFA Club World Cup

#FIFAClubWorldCup #FIFACWC

*Everybody here is a good neighbor.*

*They don't quarrel over where to hang their clothes, park their cars, lock their gates.*

*No one here is shouting at their neighbors for playing loud music. Nobody makes noise here.*

*In this place there is no competition.*

*Nobody is buying the latest suits and gowns.*

*The latest brand of car doesn't make sense here.*

*Nobody here knows what is happening to the money in their bank accounts, the clothes in their hangers, their wives, husbands and children.*

*This place is reserved for everyone including you and I that are reading this post.*

*Everybody owns a piece of land here.*

*This is where the pride of man ends.*

*"Do you know who I am"? This is who you are; nothing but dust.*

*You look at people and treat them like trash.*

*You dress nicely and walk like your legs won't touch ground, it all ends here one day.*

*Wether you like it or not one day, everyone will end here.*

*BE HUMBLE AND REMEMBER YOUR SIX FEET, WHO IS FREE????*
*Think and change for good, you bring nothing, you go with nothing*

*God is Great!*

10 TYPES OF WOMEN A MALE FARMER MUST AVOID
Brutal Truths Every Focused Man Needs in 2025

You don’t need witchcraft to fail — just the wrong woman in your space.
Your farm, peace, and future can be destroyed silently… if you're not discerning.

Here’s the harsh truth no one tells male farmers:

1. The Beauty Without Brains – Fine face, empty mind. Can’t support your vision.
2. The “Soft Life Only” Babe – No hustle. Just vibes and expensive taste.
3. The Forever Victim – She’ll drain your emotions, not water your dreams.
4. The Seductress – Knows your weakness, weaponizes it.
5. The Classy Gold-Digger – She’s not in love — she’s in business.
6. The Spiritually Dead – You’re sowing seeds, she’s sowing confusion.
7. Miss Entitled – Wants queen treatment, won’t lift a finger.
8. The Modern Rebel – Can’t build legacy with someone who hates structure.
9. The Ex You Won’t Delete – If she still controls your heart, your hands can’t build.
10. The Destiny Assassin – Sent to waste your time, money, and mind.

Bro, protect your purpose.
Some women aren’t partners… they’re spiritual potholes.

Think legacy. Think vision. Choose wisely.

#MaleFarmerWisdom #FarmWithFocus #AvoidDestinyKillers #AfricanFarmers #DoxaonFarmResort #FarmingAndPurpose #RealTalkForMen #GoatFarmerAfrica #AgropreneurLife

9JA BLOOOD
Israel Adesanya’s ex-girlfriend, Charlotte Powdrell, tried to drag him to court and demand half of his fortune after they broke up.

They were never married. No kids.
Just dated for one year.

But she still wanted 50% of his wealth.

Shockingly, the court ruled in her favor… until they discovered something wild:

Israel Adesanya’s net worth was listed as $0.00, and he’s never even owned a bank account.

Turns out, all of his $15M fortune is managed by his mother, Taiwo Adesanya who’s been in charge of his finances since day one.

Since Charlotte is worth $1 million, the court decided to split her money instead and she was ordered to pay Israel $500,000.

From trying to bag a payout to writing a check
Looks like Adesanya took notes from Achraf Hakimi and played the game better.

Let us gada and make money like water

I’m currently working at a jail and constantly doing overtime to provide for my family and take care of bills/ debt. Every two weeks I work 120 to 130 hours to pay off debt , pay bills and support my wife and three kids (9,7,3). I always pay bills on time, have a 4 bedroom house, take vacations to time to time, and feel like i support my family well.My wife is Chinese and comes from a an extremely well off background where her parents owned business make a great deal of money and constantly give her large sums of money. My wife who’s stay at home doesn’t like to teach the children, stating it’s the schools job, even though both of the kids cant read or or write, gets upset every time I tell her we have to wait to get something so I just let her put it on credit to avoid argument, and gets upset everytime when we do go out that she has to contribute 20 or 40 on outing for snacks even though constantly getting extra income from family. Everytime I try to talk to her she screams calls me poor, a bad provider , a horrible father ( yet every day I’m off I spend taking the kids to parks or events, calls me slow, retarded ( head injury from military and learning disability’s) , bring up every thing from the past ,and just screams at me till I agree with her. I’m currently at the point where everything ends in argument even small issues, she uses the threat of divorce as a weapon, and I have anxiety attacks. I currently spend a lot of extra time at work doing extra overtime since work is peaceful. I don’t know what to do. I’ve been married for almost ten years and don’t even want to celebrate as I’m so dead inside. Is this relationship salvageable? Please keep in mind I’ve had plenty of talks alrea isdy.

Verydarkblackman has been called out for hanging out with burnaboy after he criticized burnaboy for buying expensive cars and not helping poor people like Davido, deeone furiously asked"Verydarkman, I hope you told Burna Boy he’s of no use to society. I hope you told him the car he’s driving is a waste of money. You were shouting that Burna Boy’s car is useless, but when you saw him, you became humble. You were even shouting and hailing him. You saw him in the club and rushed to meet him." — Dee One

A few weeks before linking up with Burna Boy, Verydarkman called out Burna Boy, Davido, and Wizkid for buying expensive cars, saying they are us€less to Nigeria and haven’t done anything to help society, yet they spend money earned from fans on their own luxury.

Dee One say e get one guy wey dey follow Burna, Manny, if he slap VDM, condensed milk go come out of his ear

Until you date a generous man, you’ll never understand how much men love to provide for the people they love.

Not rich, but generous. The kind who gives without needing to be asked. Who finds happiness in making you feel safe, steady, and cared for.

He doesn’t give to impress. He gives because it’s how he shows love.

To him, providing is not just about money. It’s about presence, effort, and peace.

Settle with someone with a provider mindset.

THE LAST PROMISE
FINALE
The knock on Mary’s door came just as the sun was setting, casting long shadows across her small living room. She knew who it was before she even looked through the peephole—Aunty Biola. The woman who had been like a second mother to her. The woman who had betrayed her.
Mary took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the phone in her hand—the same phone that held the damning messages between Kelvin, Andre, and Aunty Biola. She had read them over and over, each word cutting deeper than the last.
She opened the door.
Aunty Biola stood there, her face pale, her hands clutching her handbag like a lifeline. She opened her mouth to speak, but Mary cut her off.
"Come inside," Mary said coldly. "We need to talk."
Aunty Biola stepped into the house, her eyes darting nervously around the room. She froze when she saw Andre tied to the chair, his face bruised, his clothes disheveled. His head hung low, but he looked up when he heard her gasp.
"Aunty Biola…" Andre whispered, his voice hoarse.
Mary ignored him. She turned to Aunty Biola, her eyes burning with fury.
"You knew," Mary said, her voice shaking. "You knew Kelvin paid Andre to pretend to love me. You were part of this… this scheme!"
Aunty Biola’s hands trembled. "Mary, my daughter, please—"
"DON’T CALL ME THAT!" Mary screamed, slamming her hand down on the table. "You are not my mother! A real mother would never do this to her child!"
Aunty Biola flinched, tears filling her eyes. "Mary, Kelvin was dying. He was desperate. He didn’t want you to be alone—"
"HE PAID A MAN TO LIE TO ME!" Mary roared. "AND YOU HELPED HIM!"
Aunty Biola swallowed hard. "I… I only agreed to check if you were happy. Kelvin gave me the money to give to Andre—only if I saw that you were truly smiling again. That’s all!"
Mary’s chest heaved. "And what about this*?" She grabbed Andre’s chin, forcing him to look at her. "Did Kelvin pay you to sleep with me too? Was that part of the deal?"
Aunty Biola gasped. "No! Mary, no! Kelvin would never—"
"But he did!" Mary pointed at Andre, her voice breaking. "He made me believe he loved me! He made me fall for him! And you knew!"
Aunty Biola fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "Forgive me, Mary. I never thought it would go this far. Kelvin just wanted you to be happy. He didn’t tell Andre to—to do that."
Mary turned away, her vision blurring. She couldn’t even look at them anymore.
After a long silence, Mary spoke again, her voice icy.
"Transfer the remaining 2.5 million to my account. Now."
Aunty Biola looked up, shocked. "What?"
"You heard me," Mary said. "That money was meant for my happiness, right? Then it’s mine. Transfer it. Now."
Aunty Biola hesitated, but the look in Mary’s eyes made her pull out her phone with shaking hands. A few taps later, Mary’s phone buzzed—a notification confirming the transfer.
Andre, still tied to the chair, lifted his head weakly. "Mary…"
She turned to him, her face unreadable.
"I know I was paid," he said, his voice raw."But somewhere along the way… I did fall in love with you. It wasn’t part of the plan, but it happened. I swear it."
Mary stared at him, her heart pounding. She wanted to believe him. She *wanted* to. But how could she? After everything?
"Get out," she whispered.
Andre blinked. "What?"
"I said GET OUT!" she screamed, grabbing a knife from the kitchen and cutting the ropes binding him. "BOTH OF YOU! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
Aunty Biola scrambled to her feet, helping Andre stand. He swayed, his body bruised and weak, but he didn’t argue.
At the door, Aunty Biola turned back, her face pleading. "Mary, please—"
"GO!
The door slammed shut behind them.
Mary sank to the floor, her body shaking with sobs. The house was silent again. Empty. Just like her heart.
She had the money now. She had the truth.
But what did she really have?
A love that was bought. A trust that was broken. A future that was built on lies.
She wiped her tears, took a deep breath, and stood up.
She would find her own happiness. Real happiness.
And this time, no one would decide it for her.
If you were in Mary’s shoes, could you ever forgive Kelvin, Andre, and Aunty Biola?
- Kelvin thought he was helping, but he paid a man to manipulate her emotions.
- Andre claims he fell in love, but he lied to her for money first.
- Aunty Biola kept the secret, watching as Mary fell deeper into the lie.
Comment below—what would YOU do?
The End.

THE LAST PROMISE
PART 12
The knock on Mary’s door was loud, insistent. Boom. Boom. Boom. It vibrated through the small living room. Mary knew who it was before she looked through the peephole. Andre stood there, his face tight with anger and confusion. He looked rumpled, a small bandage stark white on his temple where she’d hit him.
For a moment, Mary froze, her hand trembling on the door chain. The image of those damning messages – "Pretend if you must," "5 million Naira," "I know my job" – flashed behind her eyes, hot and sharp. Then, a cold, hard calm settled over her. She took a deep breath, wiped any trace of emotion from her face, and opened the door.
"Andre," she said, her voice flat, devoid of warmth. "What do you want?"
"Why?" he demanded, pushing past her into the small sitting room without waiting for an invitation. He looked around, his gaze landing on Kelvin’s framed photo on the side table. "Why did you run out like that? Why didn’t you wake me? What happened?" He turned to face her, his eyes searching hers, still holding a flicker of the concern he’d perfected. "You scared me, Mary."
Mary closed the door slowly, the click echoing in the tense silence. She leaned against it for a second, gathering the storm inside her. "I needed air," she lied, her voice still unnervingly calm. She walked past him towards the small kitchen area, her movements deliberate. "Sit down, Andre."
He hesitated, watching her, a frown deepening the crease between his brows. Something was off. Her stillness was unnatural. But he sat heavily on her worn sofa, sinking into the faded Ankara fabric cushions. He ran a hand over his face, wincing slightly as he touched the bandage. "Mary, talk to me. What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?"
Mary didn’t answer immediately. She stood near the entrance to the tiny kitchen, her back to him. Her gaze fell on the heavy wooden pestle resting in its mortar on the counter. It was smooth, worn from years of pounding yam. It felt solid, heavy in her hand when she picked it up silently.
"I just..." Andre started again, shifting uncomfortably.
That was when Mary moved.
She spun around, a silent blur of fury. Andre barely had time to register her movement, to see the glint of hard determination in her eyes that was nothing like the woman he knew, before the pestle came down. THWACK. The heavy wood connected solidly with the back of his head, right next to the existing wound. His eyes rolled back, a grunt escaping his lips before he slumped forward, unconscious, sliding off the sofa onto the woven rug.
Mary stood over him, panting, the pestle still raised. Her knuckles were white around the smooth wood. She watched his chest rise and fall for a moment, ensuring he was out. Then, she dropped the pestle with a clatter that sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet room.
She worked quickly, efficiently, fueled by a terrifying, focused rage. She dragged Andre’s limp body back onto the sofa. From a cupboard, she pulled out a coil of strong, rough rope she used for tying firewood bundles. With hands that shook only slightly, she hauled his arms behind his back and tied his wrists tightly together. She then tied his ankles together, securing the knots with brutal efficiency. Finally, she used a shorter length to tie his bound ankles to the sturdy wooden legs of the heavy armchair she then heaved him into. He slumped in the chair, head lolling to the side, the bandage stark against his skin.
Two hours crawled by. Mary sat opposite him in another chair, Kelvin’s thick leather belt coiled in her lap like a sleeping snake. She didn’t move. She barely blinked. Her eyes were fixed on Andre, cold and hard as stones. The rage hadn’t faded; it had settled into a deep, icy river flowing through her veins.
A low groan finally broke the silence. Andre stirred, his eyelids fluttering. He tried to move his arms, his legs, his brow furrowing in confusion as he encountered the rough bite of the rope. His eyes flew open, focusing blearily on Mary. Confusion turned to shock, then dawning horror as he realized his situation. He struggled against the ropes, the chair creaking.
"Mary?!" he gasped, his voice thick. "What… what is this? Untie me! What are you doing?"
Mary didn’t answer. Slowly, deliberately, she stood up. She uncoiled the leather belt, the heavy buckle dangling. The sound of the leather sliding free was ominous.
"Andre Udo," she said, her voice low, trembling not with fear, but with suppressed fury. "You have exactly five seconds to tell me the whole truth. Every single word."
"Mary, please! Untie me! This is madness! What truth?" His eyes darted around the room, wide with panic now.
"Five," Mary counted, her voice flat. She took a step closer.
"Four." Another step. The belt hung loose at her side.
"Three." She raised the belt slightly.
"Mary, stop! What do you want to know?" He was straining against the ropes, his face pale.
"Two." The buckle glinted in the light.
"ONE!"
The belt whistled through the air and cracked across his chest, right over his heart. Andre cried out, a sharp, pained sound. The thick leather bit through his shirt.
"AGH! Mary! Stop!"
"Why did Kelvin pay you?" Mary demanded, her voice rising. She raised the belt again. "THE TRUTH!"
"He… he wanted you to be happy!" Andre gasped, flinching as she drew back again. "He paid me to make sure you weren’t alone! To be your friend!"
CRACK. The belt landed on his shoulder. "LIAR!" Mary screamed. "I saw the messages! ALL OF THEM! He paid you FIVE MILLION NAIRA! To PRETEND!"
Andre recoiled, the shock of her knowing evident on his face. "Okay! Okay! Yes! He paid me! He paid me to be there for you, to make you smile, to… to help you move on!"
CRACK. This time across his arm. "Move on HOW?" Mary spat. "By making me FALL IN LOVE? Was that part of Kelvin’s grand plan? Did he pay you to SLEEP WITH ME, Andre? DID HE PAY YOU TO GET INTO MY BED?"
The question hung in the air, raw and ugly. Andre stared at her, breathing heavily, sweat beading on his forehead. Shame warred with fear in his eyes. "No!" he finally choked out. "No, Mary! Kelvin never… he never asked for that! He never paid me for that! He just said… make her feel loved. Make her happy. That’s all! He didn’t specify…"
"Didn’t SPECIFY?" Mary shrieked, the fury erupting again. She brought the belt down again and again – on his arms, his chest, his legs. *CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. Andre cried out with each blow, trying to curl away, but the ropes held him fast. Bruises were already blooming through his thin shirt. "You LIED to me! Every single day! Every touch! Every sweet word! It was all FAKE! BOUGHT AND PAID FOR!"
She paused, panting, the belt held high. Tears streamed down her face now, mixing with the sweat. "Did you EVER care? Even a little bit? Or was it ALL just a job? TELL ME THE TRUTH NOW!"
Andre slumped in the chair, defeated, broken. He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot. "It was a job," he whispered, his voice raw. "Just a job. Kelvin offered good money. A lot of money. He was desperate. I needed it. I’m sorry, Mary. I’m so sorry. But… no. I didn’t love you. I was paid to make you believe I did."
The words landed like a final, crushing blow. The cold fury surged again, hotter than ever. "Sorry?" she hissed. "SORRY?" She raised the belt with every intention of making him feel a fraction of the pain he’d caused her.
But a wave of exhaustion hit her, so profound it made her sway. The belt felt impossibly heavy. The sight of him tied up, bruised, pathetic – it wasn’t satisfying. It just made her feel hollow. Sick.
She lowered the belt, her shoulders slumping. The fight drained out of her, leaving only a vast, aching emptiness and the bitter taste of betrayal. She stumbled back, dropping the belt onto the floor with a thud. She needed someone. She needed the truth to be heard by someone else.
With trembling hands, she pulled her phone from her pocket. She scrolled through her contacts, her vision blurring. She found the number and pressed call, lifting the phone to her ear.
"Aunty Biola?" Her voice was a broken whisper, thick with tears. "Aunty Biola, please… please come to my house. Now. It’s urgent. It’s about Kelvin… and Andre. Just… please come. Hurry."
She ended the call and sank to her knees on the rug, facing Andre but not seeing him. She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly, silent sobs shaking her body. The storm had passed, leaving only devastation in its wake. The rope marks on Andre’s skin, the discarded belt, and Mary’s shattered form were the only evidence of the terrible reckoning that had just unfolded. The silence that followed was heavier than any blow.
TO BE CONTINUED...