When I get married an hour before my husband gets home i will shower + put on something cute while i pray for him to get home safely.

Thirty minutes before he’s home i'll make sure his food is cooking and making the house smell good. I'll also turn on a candle (if i have one)

fifteen mins before he’s home i vacuum, and tidy up. i also lay out his pajamas so he can shower and get dressed. I'll also start playing worship music or just worship myself.

it is small details but his reaction when he comes home is everything 🥹

now pray for me to get a husband first

"After wrecking our education systems and crippling our economies, they handed us sports and entertainment as distractions. Now, you’ll find grown men with full beards and empty wallets spending entire days analyzing football tactics; young men debating video game specs and music, women deep in movie plots and fashion trends while our nations burn and our futures are being quietly slipped away" ~ President Ibrahim Traore

Your thoughts on this ...

Have you noticed something peculiar about the release of most hit songs by the popular twin musicians P-Square?

Did you observe that Peter and Paul Okoye (Mr P and Rudeboy) are releasing their songs around the same time?

This pattern, evident since their split as P-Square in 2017, appears to me as a strategic move with multiple implications.

Is it strategic timing or mere coincidence?

Running a scan on their solo careers reveals a recurring pattern: when one brother releases a song, the other follows suit shortly after.

For instance, in 2017, Mr P released "Cool It Down" on October 20. Rudeboy replied with "Nkenji Keke" on November 16.

Mr P cried out, "For My Head" on November 17 and Rudeboy seemed to be adding insult to injury when he responded with "Fire Fire" two days later. Go and verify.

They are always f!ghting, and releasing tracks that always sell after their conflicts.

Such timing suggests a deliberate strategy to maintain individual relevance while capitalizing on shared fan bases.

Releasing music in close succession could ensure continuous engagement and comparison. I said COULD!

They could just be in the background laughing as they fuel discussions especially online, which keeps both artists in the public eye.

I may be wrong, totally wrong, but this approach taps into the psychology of rivalry, nostalgia and negativity bias.

Fans are unsuspectingly casted into their drama of competition and rivalry, reminiscing their days as a duo.

The proximity of releases invites comparisons, debates, and heightened interest, effectively doubling their visibility without a collabo.

From the lenses of a social media marketing strategist, this appears to me like a calculated move intended to engineer increased streaming numbers, media coverage, and social media engagement.

The perceived rivalry seemingly becomes a marketing tool, driving traffic to their respective platforms and sustaining their careers independently.

Note: This is not a conclusion. Che is just thinking loud. What do you think?

#mrlitetv

Many people in the music industry are greedy and want to take advantage of you -- Qing Madi.

On His Way to the Airport, a Millionaire Hands His Mansion Keys to a Soaked Beggar with a Baby… But What He Finds Upon His Return Leaves Him Speechless!… OMG......The rain had come without warning — thick, slanted sheets hammering the pavement, turning the streets into dark rivers. Nathan Hale’s black town car sliced through the storm like a blade. Inside, the world was quiet. Leather seats. Jazz humming from hidden speakers. And Nathan himself, adjusting his cufflinks like always — as if time didn’t dare touch him.

He wasn’t late for the airport. Nathan was never late. His flight to Zurich was scheduled for 4:10 p.m., and it was only 2:36. The driver knew better than to make conversation.

Then something flickered in the corner of Nathan’s eye — movement near the edge of a lamppost.

He almost didn’t look.

But he did.

A woman.

Soaked through. Hair matted to her cheeks. A plastic grocery bag clutched to her chest — no, not a bag. A bundle. A baby. Her bare feet stood in a widening puddle, as if she’d forgotten the world had rules. Her eyes met Nathan’s car window for only a second, but it was enough.

“Stop the car,” Nathan said.

The driver hesitated. “Sir?”

Nathan unbuckled his seatbelt. “I said stop.”

The brakes hissed. Water splashed.

Nathan stepped into the storm — three-thousand-dollar shoes drowning instantly. He didn’t care. Not in that moment.

“You need somewhere to go,” he said.

She didn’t answer. Just tightened her grip on the child and shook from the cold.

He pulled a silver key from his coat pocket.

“This is my house,” Nathan said quietly, almost to himself. “It’s empty. Take it. There’s food. Blankets. Heat.”

She stared at him as if he were insane.

Maybe he was.

Maybe, for once, he wanted to be.

He pressed the key into her hand, stepped back, and returned to the car without another word.

The door slammed. The car slid back into the storm. The woman was gone from his view. Like a ripple in the water — brief, but unforgettable.

—

Now, two weeks later, Nathan stood in front of his mansion again — duffel bag in hand, jet-lagged, and unsettled.

Something was… off.

The windows were lit. The garden looked trimmed. And there was music playing softly — an old lullaby, coming from the baby grand piano in the salon.

He wasn’t sure why, but a chill ran up his spine.

He turned the key in the lock and stepped inside.

Then froze.

What he saw inside the house — who he saw — made him forget how to breathe....
FULL STORY – headinsider.net/2025/06/06/beggar-baby

THE DEVIL CALLED ME FRIEND – PART 11
#KikisHauntedPen Original (100% Naija Pidgin × Dark Laughter × Spiritual Gutter )

That early momo, breeze no even blow.
Bird wey try chirp near my window begin cough.
Na so atmosphere serious reach.

I dey sit for chair like sacrificial lamb wey don overhear the prayer point.

Tega message enter:
“Guy, I dey outside the uncompleted building. Wetin sup?”

My heart jump like NEPA bill.

Devil just dey stretch for my back like gym instructor.
“Osas, you don nearly reach gate. Small push remain.”

I stand.

“Guy, this no feel right. Tega no even do me strong thing like that.”

Devil snap finger.

Immediately, memory flash —
Tega dey laugh with my ex inside Keke, dey chop suya wey I buy for her birthday.
Tega dey tell guys say I no get future.
Tega even block me when I beg am for loan last year.

I grit teeth.

Devil whisper,
“Osas... wickedness dey sweet more when e look innocent.”

I waka reach building.

Tega dey stand, dey scroll phone.
Smile still dey him face. He no know say him smile go expire soon.

I carry knife.
Na small one — e resemble butter knife, but e dey spiritual charged like generator wey drink Hennessy.

As I approach, my leg cut plank.

GBAAM!

Tega turn.

“Osas?”

I freeze.

Devil dey shout inside me like background music:
"Do am! Do am now! One stab, na Level 4. Two stabs, na Benz upgrade."

But my hand no gree move.

Tega walk near.

“Guy, I no know why you call me come here, but I miss you sha. We suppose settle all those small beefs.”

Something prick me.

Conscience.

Devil hiss.

“Osas, this your conscience dey too do gatekeeper. You wan miss glory?”

I step back.

Tega hold my shoulder.

“Wetin happen? You dey cry?”

Tears wey I no plan begin fall.

Suddenly... time pause.

I no dey joke.

Everything freeze.

Wind no blow.

Dust hang for air like movie.

Then Devil step forward.

Him eye red like generator switch.

“Osas... you dey fumble. You no dey break covenant like say na SIM card.”

I shout.

“I no fit do am!”

Devil raise hand.
Cemetery silence.

Suddenly, ground shake.

A dark hole open under Tega foot.

He scream.

“OSAS!”

I try grab am—but hand pass air.

He fall enter.

Hole close.

Just like that.

Devil clap.

“Well done. You no do am... but you let am happen. Contract still active. Blood still flow.”

I fall for ground.

Breathe no steady.

Devil bend near my ear.

“Level 4 unlocked. Welcome to 'Silent Guilt.' That one dey eat your peace like termites.”

I crawl back go house.

Mirror no show my face again.
Now e dey show Tega face.
Crying. Screaming. Every time I look am.

Mama knock for door.

“Osas, I dream say person wey trust you fall into hole because of you. Wetin happen?”

I no fit answer.

My soul dey boil garri.

And Devil just dey lounge with my remote control.

He sip tea.

“Don’t worry, Osas. Na just beginning.”

TO BE CONTINUED...
#TheDevilCalledMeFriend
#Level4Unlocked
#ThisFriendshipGetBodyCount

There's this powerful woman a lot of people have forgotten.

She's one the most powerful female musicians ever from Africa.

Davido sampled one of her biggest songs in "Funds"

Sadly she had one of the most tragic African female musician death we know.

Discover Bob Marley like never before in . This is not just another book about the reggae icon; it is a deep dive into the mind of a genius, an exploration that transcends his music to touch the very soul of his creative genius and worldview. What sets this work apart is its bold plunge into co...

Squeeze of Life

It was supposed to be a peaceful ride to Oshodi. But for Chike, today was judgment day.

He entered the bus and saw only one empty spot sandwiched between Mama Titi and Aunty Bola, two market women known in Lagos for selling tomatoes and taking up extra spiritual space.

As soon as he sat, it felt like the universe closed in on him. His ribs were playing musical chairs, and his lungs submitted their resignation letter.
Mama Titi on the left kept adjusting, pushing him deeper into Aunty Bola’s mountain of flesh.

Walahi driver, I won’t pay you oh.. Chike suddenly shouted, his voice cracking like chin-chin under pressure. See what is happening to me

The whole bus turned to look. The driver nearly swerved.🫩

Mama Titi replied, You dey cry? You never jam Mama Nnukwu. She go use one hip dislocate your destiny

Aunty Bola added, Oya shift small na, or you want to disappear into my armpit

Chike looked at the driver with teary eyes. Oga please stop. I want to come down and be going to heaven directly

Never underestimate small seats and big blessings.

“I reached out to Javis last month. I wanted her to be the main vixen in my music video. She responded, and we had a conversation, I was ready to pay her 20 million naira.

But when I sent her the script detailing the role she’d be playing, she declined, saying it was inappropriate because she’s in a relationship.

Well, that’s her loss now. I dropped the video, and it already has 15 million views in just 24 hours.
Imagine the kind of exposure she would’ve gotten. She turned it all down because of a relationship that probably won’t even last. So pathetic.” ~~BlizzyDice

If Jarvis were your younger sister what would be your advice for her?

BILLIONAIRE CHOSE HIS MAID OVER HIS FIANCÉE — AND PAID THE PRICE

Darlington Obi, the sole heir to the OB group holdings, had never been one for surprises.
Yet, on that breezy Wednesday afternoon, he arrived at his estate without alerting anyone. Not his staff, not his fianceé, not even his mother, who usually micromanaged his every step. His flight from London had landed earlier than expected, and for the first time in years, he wanted to walk into his mansion without the burden of fanfare or formal greetings.
The towering black gates slid open silently, and his convoy remained outside while he stepped in alone, holding just a leather bag and wearing a simple black polo with navy blue slacks. The stillness inside was unsettling. The chandelier above the entrance cast soft shadows on the white marble floor as he made his way toward the kitchen, drawn by the faint sound of music and laughter.
It was not the kind of laughter that came from privilege or pretense. It was genuine, pure, melodic and strangely contagious. And there she was, barefoot on the tiled floor, her wrapper tied loosely around her waist, headscarf swaying as she spun in slow circles with a mop in one hand and her other hand lifted toward the ceiling like a ballerina.
She danced like someone who didn't know the world was watching, like someone whose joy wasn't dependent on money or fame. The Bluetooth speaker beside the pantry hummed with a soft tune by Asa, and every step she took fell in rhythm with the song Darlington froze. Not because she was the most beautiful woman he had seen, though her smooth dark skin and natural smile lit something within him, but because her freedom, her joy, and her authenticity struck him like lightning in a dry season.
For a man who had seen the world closed billionaire deals and walked red carpets with women who wore diamonds like clothing, this moment felt like a window into a life he had forgotten existed. It wasn't just about attraction. It was about something deeper. peace, purity, and presence. He didn't say a word, just watched until she twirled, startled to see him standing there.
She gasped, fumbled with the mop, and almost slipped. "Oga, I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I didn't know you were back." Her eyes widened with fear, perhaps thinking she would be scolded or fired for using the speaker. "But Darlington only smiled and shook his head gently." Don't stop," he said softly, stepping further into the room.
"I've never seen someone dance like that so free." Her eyes dropped to the floor as she apologized again, reaching to turn off the music. But he stopped her hand. That moment marked a shift, a dangerous one. In that small space of silence between her heartbeat and his, something unspoken was born.
and neither of them knew that everything in their world was about to change because of a dance upstairs in a bedroom laced with velvet curtains and French perfume. Cassandra Au scrolled through her tablet while a maid painted her toenails a radiant shade of wine. She had no idea Darlington had returned.
And even if she did, she wouldn't have rushed downstairs to welcome him. That wasn't her style. Love to her was about possession, a calculated alliance between her family's legacy and his. She was a daughter of Chief Au, an oil tycoon whose influence ran through political veins like blood. The engagement between Cassandra and Darlington was a merger of powerhouses.

To be continued...