*SOME NIGERIAN NEWSPAPER HEADLINES+, 21/06/2025*

Gunmen kill 19 in fresh Plateau attacks

Dangote refinery hikes petrol ex-depot price to N880/litre

Togo cleared of alleged fake degrees as Reps probe Benin July 10

Lagos, Kaduna, 10 other cities to host Reps zonal hearing on constitution review

Atiku, el-Rufai, Amaechi coalition seeks to register new party

SEC bans CEOs from becoming chairmen without 3-year break

Flood: Over 5.2m affected, 1,237 lives lost in 35 states in 2024 – NEMA

NYSC: Stop posting our children to insecure states, parents tell FG

Scandal: Convicted inmate caught processing passport, visa in Lagos

Trump threatens Iran with imminent strike, says Europe ‘can’t help’

Trump orders mass layoffs at Voice of America, other US-funded media

WHO blames data gaps as Nigeria records 1,562 cholera cases

Court blocks deportation of Nigerian PhD Student amid Trump’s immigration crackdown

Israel-Iran war: Stranded Nigerians cry for help from underground shelters

--------------------------
*DID YOU KNOW?*

* There are more than 3,700 types of mosquitoes in the world. They live on every continent except Antarctica.

* IKEA is an acronym that stands for Ingvar Kamprad Elmtaryd Agunnaryd: the founder’s name, the farm where he grew up, and his hometown.
--------------------------

I’m committed to governance – Tinubu

Tinubu lauds Wike for transforming Abuja to world-class city

NASS revives constitution review; sets dates for public hearing

Civil war: Gowon should apologize to Ndigbo for dumping Aburi accord — Senator Umeh

NJC to work with states’ judiciaries on technology deployment – CJN Kekere-Ekun

$397k FX Case: EFCC, EeZee Tee move towards settlement

Troops foil terrorists’ attempt to establish base in Katsina, rescue 19

Navy impounds 20,000 litres of stolen crude oil in Delta

IG praises Nigerian police officers for outstanding service in Somalia

Man who breached Tinubu’s protocol in Kaduna mentally ill — Police

Umahi orders repairs on Lafia-Makurdi road after Tinubu’s aborted Yelwata visit

ECOWAS must act on agreed resolutions, says Tuggar

FG’s cash transfer to N’Assembly hits N316bn

Nigeria may face serious urban crisis in 25 years — FG warns

Farm produce cost surges by 29% – NBS

FG Releases N60bn For Agro-Livestock Industrial Zone Development

SEC bars independent directors from becoming executive directors

FIRS adopts new model to drive voluntary tax compliance

GenCos must link to national grid system by December 31 — NERC

FG donates 1,000 life jackets to Kwara

Mary Odili to chair NEAPS 2025 Advisory Committee

FCT woos global investors at London summit

Wike to relocate Apo mechanics soon

Revive nomadic schools to stop clashes, Fulani leaders tell FG

MASSOB seeks justice for Enugu victims of herdsmen attacks

Afenifere hails Tinubu’s commitment to establishing state police

Dangote plan to distribute products will address losses, IPMAN

Petroleum marketers supply 20m litres daily without subsidy

PETROAN denies lifting petrol from P’Harcourt refinery

Keyamo mocks anti-Tinubu coalition’s new party bid, calls it a ‘Pedestrian Joke’

YPP gov candidate pays Anambra N50m campaign levy

Obi condemns Anambra killings, abduction, seeks security reforms

One million children rescued from streets under my watch, says Borno gov

Oborevwori’s China trip to boost investment – Commissioner

Our Decision To Negotiate With Bandits Not Out Of Weakness – Sokoto Govt

Northern insecurity spilling into Kogi, says Ododo

Oyo to purchase two aircraft for security surveillance – Makinde
‎
Ogun assembly marks second anniversary, praises gov on project funding

Rivers LG administrator appointed by Ibas resigns

Plateau To Introduce High-Yield Potato Varieties

82,150 Nasarawa Farmers Receive Moringa, Albizia Seedlings

Enugu appoints new forest guard leaders to tackle security threats

Ebonyi releases teachers recruitment results, announces interview dates

Candidates raise concern as Osun delays teachers’ recruitment

Kaduna security operatives nab 398 suspects in nine days

Police deny foul play in Rivers nightclub assault

Police arrest 44-year-old alleged hired killer in Lagos

Police arrest 210, seize drugs, weapons in Borno

Ondo Police arrest 17-yr-old, one other with 51 bags of Indian hemp

Eight die as gunmen attack Osun, Anambra communities

--------------------------

*TODAY IN HISTORY*

* On this day in 1945, over 150, 000 clerical and non-clerical staff in the Nigerian Civil Service initiated a general strike to address their demands for salary increases to offset the rising cost of living.

* On this day in 1895, the Kiel Canal was opened by German Emperor Wilhelm II. The 98 km (61 mi) long canal in Northern Germany is one of the world’s busiest artificial waterways. It connects the North Sea with the Baltic Sea.

--------------------------

Don’t let the things you don’t have prevent you from using what you do have. – John Locke
Good morning

*Compiled by Hon. Osuji George [email protected], +234-8122200446*

WAHALA nor dy Finish .
I attended a burial ceremony of my friend Grand mother yesterday but their tradition demands that at every burial ceremony an old man would come out and announce the next person to Die, which I never knew until I heard an old woman saying it to someone close

So this man came out and said the first person to leave the burial ground will be the next to Die....🙆🏾‍♂️🙆🏾‍♂️🙆🏾‍♂️🙆🏾‍♂️ Since yesterday morning my people we are still at the burial ceremony even one elderly man that is more than 98 years asking me if my parents won't be looking for me🤦🏾‍♂️🤦🏾‍♂️🤦🏾‍♂️🏃🏾‍♂️🏃🏾‍♂️🏃🏾‍♂️. We don dy beg d old man since to comot go house, but papa nor wan gree



PLEASE FOLLOW ME The Real Me

Papaya seeds can save you a lot of money at the pharmacy ...See more

INSPIRING ONITSHA TRUE STORY

“My mother sold pap beside the market gutter.”
“Now I export to five countries — and I named the brand after her.”
They called it “dirty woman’s food.”
Now it’s on shelves in London and New York.

Her Mother Sold Akamu by the Roadside — What Her Daughter Did 20 Years Later Left the Whole Market in Tears
Written by Rosyworld CRN

Onitsha, Nigeria — 2003.

Every morning by 5:00 a.m., Mama Uju would tie her wrapper tight, light the firewood, and begin stirring the large pot of pap.

Yellow, thick, creamy — and hot.

She sold it at the corner of Nkpor Market.
Right beside the open gutter.
No kiosk. No umbrella. Just smoke, sweat, and survival.

Her daughter Uju sat beside her.
Sometimes sleeping.
Sometimes helping.
Always dreaming.

But other market women mocked them.

“See your mummy selling food by gutter!”
“Who will marry you when your clothes always smell like smoke?”

Uju stayed quiet.
She watched.
Learned.
And whispered to her mother one day:

"One day, this pap will travel beyond Nigeria."

Mama Uju laughed. “Pap wey I dey sell for ₦50?”

“Yes, mama,” she replied. “Your sweat has a flavour the world hasn’t tasted yet.”

Uju studied hard.
Went to UNN.
Studied Food Science & Tech.
Wrote her final project on “Preservation and Commercialization of Traditional Fermented Foods.”

Graduated with distinction.
Got a loan from a youth empowerment fund.
Started small — two bags of corn, a borrowed grinder, and an Instagram page.

Business Name: Mama Uju’s Original Pap.

It wasn’t just a product.
It was a legacy.

People laughed at first.
Then they tasted it.
Then they ordered.

By 2021, she was supplying supermarkets in Lagos and Abuja.
By 2023, she exported to the UK through a Nigerian food distributor.

In 2025, she returned to Nkpor Market — where it all began.
She wore a custom-made ankara dress printed with the words: “From Gutter to Global.”

She came with camera crews, a truckload of her packaged pap, and a special announcement.

She stood beside the same corner where her mother once bent over firewood and said:

“This is where royalty once sat on a plastic chair.
This is where I saw dignity in burnt fingers.
This is where I first tasted strength.”

She donated ₦10 million to upgrade the market stalls for other women vendors.
Gave them branded kiosks and cooking equipment.
Named the space: “Mama Uju’s Women’s Corner.”

Then she gave her mother a key to a brand-new bungalow, built on land she bought secretly five years ago.

Mama Uju fainted.
Then cried.
Then danced.

Because the pap she stirred for survival…
Became the pap her daughter used for global success.

And the child once laughed at for smelling of smoke…
Now breathes boardroom air — but still bows before the woman who stirred her future.

INSPIRING ONITSHA TRUE STORY

“My mother sold pap beside the market gutter.”
“Now I export to five countries — and I named the brand after her.”
They called it “dirty woman’s food.”
Now it’s on shelves in London and New York.

Her Mother Sold Akamu by the Roadside — What Her Daughter Did 20 Years Later Left the Whole Market in Tears
Written by Rosyworld CRN

Onitsha, Nigeria — 2003.

Every morning by 5:00 a.m., Mama Uju would tie her wrapper tight, light the firewood, and begin stirring the large pot of pap.

Yellow, thick, creamy — and hot.

She sold it at the corner of Nkpor Market.
Right beside the open gutter.
No kiosk. No umbrella. Just smoke, sweat, and survival.

Her daughter Uju sat beside her.
Sometimes sleeping.
Sometimes helping.
Always dreaming.

But other market women mocked them.

“See your mummy selling food by gutter!”
“Who will marry you when your clothes always smell like smoke?”

Uju stayed quiet.
She watched.
Learned.
And whispered to her mother one day:

"One day, this pap will travel beyond Nigeria."

Mama Uju laughed. “Pap wey I dey sell for ₦50?”

“Yes, mama,” she replied. “Your sweat has a flavour the world hasn’t tasted yet.”

Uju studied hard.
Went to UNN.
Studied Food Science & Tech.
Wrote her final project on “Preservation and Commercialization of Traditional Fermented Foods.”

Graduated with distinction.
Got a loan from a youth empowerment fund.
Started small — two bags of corn, a borrowed grinder, and an Instagram page.

Business Name: Mama Uju’s Original Pap.

It wasn’t just a product.
It was a legacy.

People laughed at first.
Then they tasted it.
Then they ordered.

By 2021, she was supplying supermarkets in Lagos and Abuja.
By 2023, she exported to the UK through a Nigerian food distributor.

In 2025, she returned to Nkpor Market — where it all began.
She wore a custom-made ankara dress printed with the words: “From Gutter to Global.”

She came with camera crews, a truckload of her packaged pap, and a special announcement.

She stood beside the same corner where her mother once bent over firewood and said:

“This is where royalty once sat on a plastic chair.
This is where I saw dignity in burnt fingers.
This is where I first tasted strength.”

She donated ₦10 million to upgrade the market stalls for other women vendors.
Gave them branded kiosks and cooking equipment.
Named the space: “Mama Uju’s Women’s Corner.”

Then she gave her mother a key to a brand-new bungalow, built on land she bought secretly five years ago.

Mama Uju fainted.
Then cried.
Then danced.

Because the pap she stirred for survival…
Became the pap her daughter used for global success.

And the child once laughed at for smelling of smoke…
Now breathes boardroom air — but still bows before the woman who stirred her future.

I WAS ERASED BY MY OWN TWIN SISTER
PART 1
Nneka and Ngozi were identical in every way—same face, same voice, even the same birthmark on their left wrist. But that was where the similarity ended.
From the moment they turned thirteen, the differences between them became impossible to ignore. Nneka was the golden child—bright, obedient, and always the first to raise her hand in class. Teachers praised her, boys admired her, and their parents beamed with pride whenever her name was mentioned.
Ngozi hated it.
Every compliment Nneka received was like a knife twisting in Ngozi’s chest. Every award, every smile directed at her sister, made Ngozi’s blood boil. She was tired of living in Nneka’s shadow. Tired of being the "other twin."
And so, she decided to do something about it.
It started with small things—missing earrings, broken plates, stolen money. Each time, Ngozi would wait for the perfect moment, then plant the evidence in Nneka’s room.
"Mama! My new bracelet is gone!" Ngozi wailed one evening, clutching her wrist dramatically.
Their mother, Mama Bisi, sighed. "Did you check everywhere?"
"Yes! I left it on my dresser, and now it’s gone!" Ngozi’s eyes flicked toward Nneka, who was quietly reading in the corner.
Mama Bisi frowned. "Nneka, did you take your sister’s bracelet?"
Nneka looked up, confused. "No, Mama. I haven’t even been in her room."
But Ngozi was already moving. She marched to Nneka’s bed, lifted the pillow, and—just like she had planned—there it was.
"Mama, look!" Ngozi gasped, holding up the bracelet as if it were a murder weapon. "She stole it!"
Nneka’s eyes widened. "I didn’t—I swear I didn’t take it!"
Mama Bisi’s face darkened. "Nneka, how could you? After all we’ve done for you?"
No amount of pleading could save her. Nneka was sent to her room without dinner, while Ngozi smirked behind their mother’s back.
The punishments became harsher. One day, Ngozi spilled ink on their father’s important documents and blamed Nneka. Another time, she stole money from Mama Bisi’s purse and slipped it into Nneka’s schoolbag.
Each time, Nneka would cry, "It wasn’t me! Ngozi is lying!"
But no one believed her.
"Why would Ngozi lie?" their father would snap. "You’re just jealous because she’s more honest than you!"
Ngozi loved it. She loved the way Nneka’s face crumpled in hurt. Loved the way their parents scolded her while praising Ngozi for being "the good one."
But deep down, Ngozi knew the truth—she wasn’t the good one. She was the clever one.
One afternoon, Nneka came home with the highest score in their class. The teacher had written, "Brilliant work!" on her test paper.
Ngozi couldn’t take it anymore.
That night, while Nneka slept, Ngozi crept into her room and tore the test paper to shreds. Then, she took Nneka’s favorite dress—the one their aunt had brought from abroad—and ripped it down the middle.
The next morning, chaos erupted.
"Nneka! What is wrong with you?" Mama Bisi screamed, holding up the destroyed dress.
Nneka stared in horror. "I—I didn’t do this!"
"Then who did? A ghost?" their father roared.
Ngozi stood in the doorway, her face the perfect picture of innocence. "Maybe… maybe she was angry about something," she whispered, planting the seed.
Their parents exchanged glances. That was it.
"Nneka," Mama Bisi said coldly, "you need to learn respect. No dinner for a week. And you’ll pay for a new dress from your savings."
Nneka’s tears fell freely, but Ngozi only smiled.
Because this was just the beginning.
As the years passed, Ngozi’s schemes grew bolder. She whispered lies to their friends, making sure Nneka had no one to turn to. She sabotaged Nneka’s chances at scholarships, stole her crushes, and made sure their parents saw only the worst in her.
And Nneka? She grew quieter. More broken.
But Ngozi wasn’t satisfied yet.
Because one day, Nneka would have something Ngozi wanted. Something Ngozi would take—no matter the cost.
And when that day came, Nneka would pay for being the favorite.
Forever.
To Be Continued…

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
FINALE
The grand villa, once a gilded cage echoing with tension and Amanda’s venomous whispers, had transformed into a sanctuary bathed in golden light and the vibrant hum of genuine joy. The "Welcome Home" party wasn’t just for Jessica; it was a rebirth for the entire household. Paper lanterns, reminiscent of the secret baby shower but multiplied a hundredfold, adorned every archway and balcony, casting a warm, celebratory glow. Lush floral arrangements overflowing with crimson hibiscus, golden birds of paradise, and fragrant white jasmine replaced the sterile opulence. The air thrummed with the infectious rhythms of highlife music and the laughter of Scar’s men – no longer just guards, but an extended family sharing in their leader’s profound relief and happiness.
Jessica stood near the sweeping staircase, a vision in flowing ivory silk. The lingering shadows of fear and hardship were gone, replaced by a radiant serenity that seemed to emanate from her very core. She watched Scar move through the crowd, his usual intimidating presence softened into an almost boyish delight. He greeted his men with firm handshakes and claps on the back, his deep laughter ringing out freely, a sound many hadn’t heard in years. His eyes, however, constantly sought hers, anchoring himself in her presence. Every few minutes, he would weave his way back to her, his hand finding the small of her back, his lips brushing her temple, a silent, possessive reassurance. "Mine. Safe. Home."
Amidst the joyful chaos, Scar spotted Ghost standing near the open terrace doors, a quiet sentinel observing the celebration. Chioma was beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. Scar excused himself from a conversation and walked towards them, his expression turning solemn. The music seemed to fade slightly as he approached.
"Ghost," Scar said, his voice low and thick with emotion. He stopped before the man who had been a shadow, a weapon, and ultimately, a savior.
Ghost straightened, his usual impassive mask in place, but his eyes held a flicker of wariness.
Scar didn’t offer a handshake. Instead, he placed both hands firmly on Ghost’s shoulders, a gesture of profound respect and intimacy reserved for the closest of brothers-in-arms. He looked directly into Ghost’s eyes, his own dark gaze unwavering and sincere.
"Words are cheap," Scar began, his voice rough. "But they are all I have right now to express what can never truly be repaid." He paused, the weight of the past months heavy in the silence. "You saved her life. You saved *my son’s* life. When I was blind with rage, walking in darkness, you were the one who held the light. You saw the truth when I refused to. You risked everything – your position, your life, my wrath – to protect Jessica when I couldn’t, when I *failed* her." Scar’s voice cracked slightly. "You brought her back. You kept her safe. You gave me back…" He glanced towards Jessica, his eyes softening, "...everything."
He squeezed Ghost’s shoulders. "My gratitude isn't just for tonight. It’s a debt etched into my bones. You have my loyalty, Ghost, not as an employer, but as a brother. Now and always. Whatever you need, whenever you need it – it’s yours. Without question." He finally released him, stepping back slightly, but the intensity of his gaze remained. "Thank you. For Jessica. For my son. For my life."
Ghost, a man of few words, swallowed hard. The stoic mask fractured, revealing a depth of emotion rarely seen. He gave a single, sharp nod, his voice gruff when he finally spoke. "Just bringing you home to what matters, Boss. To *who* matters." He glanced at Chioma, a softness touching his eyes. "We did it together."
Chioma beamed, tears glistening. Scar nodded, the profound understanding passing between them. He clasped Ghost’s hand firmly this time. "Together," he echoed. The moment solidified a bond forged in fire, stronger than any empire.
Weeks later, the villa was hushed, filled with a different kind of anticipation – sacred and primal. Jessica labored not in a sterile hospital, but in the sun-drenched master suite Scar had transformed into a birthing sanctuary. Chioma, now officially Jessica’s sister and confidante, was her unwavering pillar, alongside a trusted midwife. Scar paced the adjoining sitting room like the lion he was, his usual composure shattered. Every muffled cry from Jessica sent a jolt of terror and helplessness through him. He heard William’s low murmur trying to offer reassurance, but the powerful kingpin was reduced to a bundle of raw nerves, praying to deities he’d long ignored.
Then, cutting through the tense silence, came a new sound – a strong, indignant wail. A sound that stopped Scar’s heart before setting it pounding with a frantic, overwhelming joy. The door opened. Chioma emerged, her face radiant, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Boss…" she whispered, her voice thick. "Come meet your son."
Scar moved as if in a dream, pushing past her into the room. The scent of blood and effort hung in the air, but it was eclipsed by something purer, sweeter. Jessica lay propped on pillows, exhausted but glowing, her face a picture of awestruck love. And in her arms, swaddled in soft white linen, was a tiny, perfect human being. A shock of dark hair, a button nose, and eyes screwed shut as he voiced his displeasure at the bright new world.
Scar approached slowly, his massive frame seeming too large, too clumsy for this fragile miracle. He sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes fixed on the tiny face. Jessica smiled weakly, shifting slightly. "Sebastian… meet your son. Adebayo Sebastian Scar."
Tentatively, reverently, Scar reached out. His large, scarred hand, capable of such violence, trembled as he gently traced the curve of his son’s impossibly soft cheek. The baby’s cries subsided slightly, tiny fingers unfurling. As Scar’s fingertip brushed that miniature hand, the tiny fingers instinctively curled around it with surprising strength.
The dam broke. A single tear, then another, escaped Scar’s tightly shut eyes, tracing a path down his scarred cheek. A sob, raw and unexpected, ripped from his chest. He bowed his head, his forehead resting gently against Jessica’s arm beside the baby, his shoulders shaking silently. The fear, the rage, the betrayal, the relentless pursuit of power – it all dissolved in the face of this profound, terrifying love. He wept for the man he’d been, for the pain inflicted, for the miracle granted.
"He’s perfect," he choked out, lifting his tear-streaked face to look at Jessica, his eyes blazing with a love so fierce it stole her breath. He placed his other hand over hers where it cradled the baby’s head. "Both of you. My world." He leaned down, pressing the most tender kiss first on Jessica’s sweaty forehead, then on the downy head of his son. "I swear on my life," he whispered, his voice thick with conviction, his gaze locked on the tiny face, "I will protect you. Both of you. With every breath, every drop of blood. Nothing will ever harm you again. You are my heart. My sanctuary. My *everything*." The Lion of Lagos had found his true purpose, not in territory or fear, but in the fierce, unwavering protection of his pride
Four months later, Adebayo was a thriving bundle of energy, his dark eyes already holding a disconcerting echo of his father’s intensity, often softened by a gummy smile that could melt stone. Life settled into a blissful rhythm. Scar embraced fatherhood with a fierce, almost comical devotion, often found pacing the nursery at 3 AM with Adebayo asleep on his broad chest, or conducting business meetings via video call with the baby propped in a sling.
One quiet afternoon, Jessica found Scar in his study, engrossed in building a ridiculously complex block tower for Adebayo, who watched with rapt fascination. Sunlight streamed through the windows. Jessica sat beside him on the plush rug, leaning her head against his shoulder. "He’s getting so strong," she murmured, watching their son grab a block.
"He’s a Scar," Scar rumbled proudly, carefully adding another block. "Strength is in the blood."
Jessica took a deep breath, a secret smile playing on her lips. "Speaking of strength… and blood…" She reached into the pocket of her flowing dress and pulled out a small, familiar plastic stick. She placed it gently on the carpet beside the tower.
Scar froze, his hand hovering over the next block. His gaze snapped from the test to Jessica’s face, then back to the test. Two clear pink lines. His breath hitched. Understanding dawned, slow and then blindingly bright. He dropped the block, ignoring Adebayo’s startled gurgle. He turned fully to Jessica, his eyes wide, searching hers.
"Jessica?" His voice was barely a whisper, filled with disbelief and burgeoning hope.
She nodded, her smile widening, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Another little lion cub. Or maybe a lioness this time. Due in about seven months."
A roar of pure, unadulterated joy erupted from Scar, startling Adebayo, who blinked and then let out a delighted squeal. Scar swept Jessica into his arms, lifting her off the rug, spinning her gently despite her laughing protests. He buried his face in her neck, his laughter mingling with tears of profound gratitude. "Another chance," he breathed against her skin, setting her down but holding her close. "Another miracle. You give me everything, my lioness. Everything."
He kissed her then, deep and slow, pouring all his love, his relief, his awe into the touch. Later that night, after Adebayo was asleep, their reunion was a slow, tender exploration. It wasn't the frantic claiming of the past, nor the desperate passion after Amanda’s exposure. It was a celebration of life, of their enduring bond, of the future stretching bright before them. He worshipped her body, the subtle new curve taking shape beneath his hands, whispering promises against her skin, their movements a beautiful, synchronized dance of love and creation.
Adebayo was six months old, a sturdy, curious baby with his father’s intense gaze and his mother’s gentle smile, when Jessica walked down the aisle. Not in a cathedral, but at dawn on the private, white-sand beach of a secluded Seychelles island. The guests were few but deeply cherished: Her parents, beaming with pride and tearful joy; Chioma and Ghost, holding hands; William, Kola, Musa, and a handful of Scar’s most trusted men, now truly family.
Jessica wore not a traditional white gown, but a stunning creation of layered, whisper-thin ivory silk that flowed like water around her, subtly cinched beneath her breasts to accommodate the gentle swell of her second pregnancy. Her hair was woven with fragrant frangipani blossoms. She carried a simple bouquet of tropical white orchids.
Scar waited for her beneath a canopy woven with vibrant bougainvillea and seashells, barefoot in the sand, wearing crisp white linen trousers and an open-necked ivory shirt. He held Adebayo, dressed in a tiny linen suit, who stared wide-eyed at the ocean. But as Jessica approached, guided by her father, Scar’s gaze locked onto hers. The raw love, the fierce protectiveness, the awe he’d felt holding his son for the first time – it all shone in his eyes, amplified a thousandfold. Tears tracked freely down his face as she reached him.
The ceremony was simple, profound. They spoke vows not written by anyone else, but forged in the fires they’d walked through together. Jessica promised her strength, her unwavering love, and the sanctuary of her heart. Scar vowed his protection, his absolute fidelity, and his endless gratitude for the family she’d given him. He included Adebayo in his vows, promising to be his guide, and placed a gentle hand on Jessica’s belly, whispering a promise to the child yet to come. When they kissed, the rising sun painted them in gold, the turquoise waves their witness.
Their honeymoon wasn't just a vacation; it was a month-long immersion in peace, connection, and the simple joy of being a family. They spent mornings building sandcastles with a delighted Adebayo, afternoons napping in hammocks strung between palm trees, Scar’s hand resting possessively on Jessica’s growing bump. Evenings were spent sharing fresh seafood under the stars, Adebayo asleep in a sling against Scar’s chest, Jessica leaning against his shoulder. They talked – truly talked – about their fears, their hopes, their dreams for their children. They swam in crystal-clear lagoons, explored vibrant coral reefs, and simply existed in a bubble of love, far removed from the shadows of Lagos.
One moonlit night, after settling Adebayo in the villa’s nursery, Scar led Jessica back to the beach. He spread a blanket on the sand, the only sound the gentle sigh of the waves. He pulled her down beside him, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his hands cradling her belly. He rested his chin on her shoulder, looking out at the vast, star-strewn ocean.
"From the slums of Lagos," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble against her ear, "to the devil’s mistress… to my wife. My queen. The mother of my children." He kissed her temple. "My Jessica. My sanctuary."
Jessica leaned back into his embrace, covering his hands with hers on her belly, feeling the tiny flutter within. She looked up at the endless sky, then back at the sleeping villa where their son dreamed. "Our sanctuary, Sebastian," she whispered, turning her head to capture his lips in a tender kiss under the watchful moon. "Built together. Forged in fire. Found in love."
The Lion had found his true kingdom – not in fear or territory, but in the boundless, fiercely protected love of his lioness and their cubs. The Devil’s Mistress had become the Queen of his heart, and their story, scarred but unbreakable, was only just beginning. The future stretched before them, bright as the dawn over the Indian Ocean, filled with the promise of peace, family, and the enduring strength of a love that had conquered hell itself.
THE END

*SOME NIGERIAN NEWSPAPER HEADLINES+, 20/06/2025*

FG’ll unlock potential of all states, says Tinubu

Kaduna now model of peace under Sani, says Tinubu

Food inflation: NSA, 36 states launch joint action

542 senior military officers retire

National Economic Council postpones planned 150th meeting

Organisers laud entry turnout for AFRIMA 2025

Benue IDPs protest bad conditions in camp

Lagos seals Oko-Oba Abattoir over environmental violations

Israel threatens Khamenei after Iranian missiles wound 240

Trump to make Iran war decision in ‘next two weeks’

Nigeria, Germany sign €20m renewable energy deal

Russia offers 220 Nigerians scholarships

FCCPC seals France, Belgium, Italy visa centres in Abuja


-------------------------------
*DID YOU KNOW?*

* Bluetooth gets its name from Harald “Bluetooth” Gormsson, a 10th-century Danish king who united Denmark and Norway. It was chosen as a codename during the technology’s development by Jim Kardach of Intel, as a nod to the king’s ability to unify different factions, similar to how the technology unites different devices.

* Ants are incredibly strong for their size, capable of carrying 50 times their own weight.
-------------------------------

Tinubu inaugurates Institute of Vocational Training, 100 CNG buses in Kaduna

‘Leave him alone,’ Tinubu tells security as man approaches president in Kaduna

Tinubu confers CFR honour on Dangiwa Umar for role in defending democracy

85% of Rivers N1.48tn budget was drafted by Fubara — Senate

Tinubu has no rival in Kaduna for 2027 — Speaker Abbas

Appeal Court overturns GTBank’s foreclosure of Abiola family’s Ikoyi mansion

GTBank loses bid to reclaim MKO son’s Lagos mansion

Defamation: Court grants Natasha N50m bail

Court admits DSS report linking Kanu to #EndSARS violence

#EndSARS protest: 233 security agents killed at Kanu’s incitement – DSS’ witness

Alleged terrorism: I’ve no case to answer, Kanu tells court

Man jailed 76 years for child pornography, fraud

Two Islamic clerics arraigned for scamming doctor N280m

EFCC nabs seven suspected internet fraudsters in Abuja

Benue killings: Residents sheltered attackers, gave them food, women — CDS

Benue massacre: Troops got faulty info on herders’ movements —CDS

6,260 terrorists killed, 5,365 hostages rescued in two years –DHQ

ECOWAS must boost intra-regional trade to avoid neo-colonialism – Tuggar

REA, FCMB seal N100bn renewable energy deal

DMO raises N91bn from green bond

Fight inflation with credit schemes, OPS urges govt

FG, Kano to build manufacturing hub, boost industrial growth

TCN: Vandalised towers hit 178 in six months

Telecom sector bouncing back after forex crisis, says NCC boss

Japa: FG begins housing scheme for doctors

Wike slams Abuja’s ‘big men’ for poor tax compliance

Tinubu, NASS failed to secure Nigerians — SMBLF

50 million Nigerians are sickle cell carriers – Experts

USSD debt: Telcos recover N170bn from banks

DLM Capital unveils N30bn sovereign-backed credit bond

Stanbic IBTC rights issue oversubscribed by 121.97%

Oye steps down as NACCIMA, OPSN Chairman

Pharmacy council shuts 67 illegal drug outlets in Lagos

Odua Cooperative eyes grant to revive S’West economy

Ojude Oba: Glo celebrates 20 years of sponsorship, presents cars

Bank customers petition CBN over excess charges

Body to scale up bambara nut production

Security beefed up in A’Ibom as Tinubu, Akpabio set to receive Eno to APC on Saturday

Katsina: 287 former aspirants, candidates dump PDP for coalition

AAC seeks justice for 20-year -old assaulted deaf girl

PDP, APC trade words as EFCC arrests 15 ex-Plateau lawmakers

LG fund: APC Rep warns Adeleke as Osun Assembly fumes

Adeleke hails Osun lawmaker for empowering 700 business owners

Abia won’t tolerate crime, Otti warns criminals

Kano senator rewards Qur’anic reciters with new homes

Anambra govt goes tough on landlords, gives July 1 ultimatum

Lagos, Oyo back safer gambling to curb addiction

Housing: Lagos moves to regulate agency charges

Anambra civil service commission receives ICT tools

Gombe approves additional N5,000 allowance for LG, LGEA workers

Kebbi boosts water supply, rehabilitates boreholes to solar power

LASTMA accused of covering up N70m excavator theft at Lagos yard

Imo LG bans non-govt approved vigilante groups

Kebbi CAN debunks rejection of N30m gift, says fund was for Christian crusade, projects

Niger flood: Two more decomposed corpses recovered

Kano CP orders offensive against criminal hideouts

Gombe Police abolish use of truck horns by motorcyclists

Niger police conduct Suleja raid, nab 20 suspects

Uromi killings: Kano, Edo silent as hunter compensation talks stall

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*TODAY IN HISTORY*

* On this day in 1991, the German parliament moved to Berlin. Bonn had been the capital of West Germany until the country’s reunification in 1990. The “Hauptstadtbeschluss” (capital decision) stipulated that the seat of government and the parliament also be moved to the “new” capital Berlin.

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No individual can win a game by himself. – Pele


Good morning

*Compiled by Hon. Osuji George [email protected], +234-8122200446*see

WIA PIKIN DE CRY DE POINT HAND, IF HIN PAPA NO DEY DIA, HIN MAMA GO DEY DIA OR PATA-PATA PESIN WEY BEAT AM (Wetin Mek Am De Cry) GO DEY DIA.

THE BREASTFEEDING TRUTH THEY WON'T TELL YOU IN THE HOSPITAL:


Low Milk Isn’t destiny.
It’s Fuel Sabotage.

Allow me burn the lies:

You keep asking with crushing fear. Why isn’t enough breast milk coming out?

Understand that this is not your body failing.
It’s just unhealthy food and wrong advice starving your biology.

Here’s the silent milk thief:
You’re told to just keep breastfeeding–
But no one hands you the real template to BUILD BREAST MILK.

Milk isn’t magic.
It’s MOLECULES:
→ Made from fats you eat (avocado, butter, tallow, eggs).
→ Flowing on rivers you drink (water, bone broth).
→ Ignited by nutrients you absorb (not swallow from a pill).

Yet, they tell you to feed on?
—Pap, Soy milk, Processed Milk, packed with sugar and false hope.
—Oatmeal while stressed, chugging sage tea (the drying herb!) what a wrong move.
—Fear of too much egg cholesterol – as your cells starve.
—Wheat & it's derivatives like semo - as this shred your milk making hormones.
—Seed Oil - which paralyzes your cells powerhouse.
—And avoid red meat - forgetting anemia starve breast milk of oxygen.

Listen, You can Stimulate Breast Milk Supply with these:

- CHANGE INTO ORGANIC TOOTHPASTE, NOT TOOTHPASTE WITH TRICLOSAN because it mimics estrogen → hormone chaos → mess up breast milk supply.
- TAKE BONE BROTH = Electrolytes + collagen. Sip it like liquid gold.
- SIP SALTED WATER: Not optional. Your cells are oceans – fill them.
- EAT EGGS + YOLKS: Choline builds milk ducts. Eat 4 or more daily.
- EAT BEEF LIVER: Nature’s multivitamin prepared with onions (liver fuel therapy).
- TAKE AVOCADO/OLIVE OIL: Milk is 50% fat. Drown your salad with it.
- BREASTFEED LIKE A WARRIOR: At least 12+ times per day. Your Baby’s mouth is the pump that programs supply.
- SKIN-TO-SKIN: Chest out, Take guilt off.
- GET RID OF STRESS because stress hormones clogs milk ducts. So, practice BELLY BREATHING: This is not woo-woo. Oxygen flushes milk ducts. (Breathe like a dragon: 4 sec in, 8 sec out.)

I'd leave you with this:
Ditch the EMPTY CARBS (Cereal, bread, biscuits) – They all inflame, so don’t feed on them).

Embrace ANCESTRAL NOURISHMENT.
Not fruit juices from the super market.

Always allow your baby to sûck your breast like your life depends on it.(This is called latching) – because it does.

Your milk is Medicine.
Your milk is Sacred.
But your mouth is the GATEWAY.

This isn’t just advice – it’s armor.


Share this with every mother fighting to reclaim her breast milk.