• Aunty Cynthia came to our house. She is my mom’s sister.
    Ever since she arrived, she has been a thorn in my flesh—constantly disturbing me.

    “Emmanuel, do this!”
    “Emmanuel, do that!”

    One day, I looked her straight in the eyes and told her:
    “I am David and you are Goliath. I will bring you down—you must surely leave this house.”

    The fact that she laughed at my threat got me really infuriated.
    So, I swung into action, monitoring her every move.

    Then one Monday, I overheard her on the phone saying “baby.”
    I immediately ran to my mum and told her that her 26-year-old sister has a boyfriend and was calling him baby in our house.

    Instead of supporting me, my mum scolded me and told me to mind my business. I knew that plan had failed.

    I tried several other ways to nail her, but none were enough to send her packing.

    Then one day, I caught her stealing meat from the pot!
    I ran to tell my mum.
    All she said, “She’s the one cooking, so she has to taste it.”

    I told her that Aunty Cynthia took sizeable meat!
    My mum shushed me, saying I was beginning to act like a gossip.
    I tried to convince her, but she said she needed evidence to believe me.
    That was when I realized I needed to catch her red-handed—on camera.

    Three days later, my mum and dad were not yet home.
    My elder siblings were outside playing, but as the last born, I knew I had a truth to uncover.

    I took my brother’s phone and tiptoed to the kitchen.
    Peeking through the slightly opened door, I saw her—dancing and shaking her body in another person’s house!

    I waited patiently.
    I knew she would taste the meat while cooking stew.

    Jobless me stood there for almost 30 minutes.
    Finally, she brought out already-prepared stock filled with meat she had cooked earlier.

    I knew this was my moment.

    I waited until she took a plate, scooped some sizeable portions of meat, and began eating.
    That was when I brought out my phone and pressed the shutter button—not knowing the automatic flash was on!

    The flash lit up the entire kitchen.

    I had been compromised.

    I immediately took to my heels!
    She chased after me. As I ran from the kitchen to the living room, she slipped on the tiles and fell.

    I stopped running and ran back to check on her.
    The next thing I saw was slap and stars—followed by beating!

    She beat me like a criminal in my father’s house.
    To crown it all, she gave me extra knocks on the head, and my head was swollen.

    My siblings ran inside, begging her to leave me alone, but she refused.

    By the time my mum came back, my elder brother had already found a place to hang my leg.
    I was acting like I wouldn’t see tomorrow.

    My mum was angry seeing me in that condition—her favourite child that loves gossip? Oh no!

    When my dad returned, he was angry too, but he didn’t say a word.
    I knew then that she was finally leaving.

    But why did it have to be at the expense of extra head?

    The slap she gave me is still paining me.

    After we narrated everything to my mum, she said nothing about the meat.
    She was only angry that I was beaten like a piece of metal.

    Everyone was happy when my mum said Aunty Cynthia would be leaving the next day.
    I didn’t know nobody liked her from the start!

    We had been liberated—and I paid the price.

    The next morning, we helped her with her bags and reclaimed our house.

    Guess what my dad said to us one week after we chased away my mum’s sister?

    “My own sister will be coming to stay with us for some time.”

    We all shouted right in front of him, NO

    My dad replied:

    “It’s final. If you don’t like it, go and build your own house!”

    Anyway, my siblings and I have already made plans for the next visitor.
    Even hot water is part of the plan.

    Aunty Beetle-mouth?
    No! She must not come. That woman doesn’t mind her business.

    A story by EMMACK
    Aunty Cynthia came to our house. She is my mom’s sister. Ever since she arrived, she has been a thorn in my flesh—constantly disturbing me. “Emmanuel, do this!” “Emmanuel, do that!” One day, I looked her straight in the eyes and told her: “I am David and you are Goliath. I will bring you down—you must surely leave this house.” The fact that she laughed at my threat got me really infuriated. So, I swung into action, monitoring her every move. Then one Monday, I overheard her on the phone saying “baby.” I immediately ran to my mum and told her that her 26-year-old sister has a boyfriend and was calling him baby in our house. Instead of supporting me, my mum scolded me and told me to mind my business. I knew that plan had failed. I tried several other ways to nail her, but none were enough to send her packing. Then one day, I caught her stealing meat from the pot! I ran to tell my mum. All she said, “She’s the one cooking, so she has to taste it.” I told her that Aunty Cynthia took sizeable meat! My mum shushed me, saying I was beginning to act like a gossip. I tried to convince her, but she said she needed evidence to believe me. That was when I realized I needed to catch her red-handed—on camera. Three days later, my mum and dad were not yet home. My elder siblings were outside playing, but as the last born, I knew I had a truth to uncover. I took my brother’s phone and tiptoed to the kitchen. Peeking through the slightly opened door, I saw her—dancing and shaking her body in another person’s house! I waited patiently. I knew she would taste the meat while cooking stew. Jobless me stood there for almost 30 minutes. Finally, she brought out already-prepared stock filled with meat she had cooked earlier. I knew this was my moment. I waited until she took a plate, scooped some sizeable portions of meat, and began eating. That was when I brought out my phone and pressed the shutter button—not knowing the automatic flash was on! The flash lit up the entire kitchen. I had been compromised. I immediately took to my heels! She chased after me. As I ran from the kitchen to the living room, she slipped on the tiles and fell. I stopped running and ran back to check on her. The next thing I saw was slap and stars—followed by beating! She beat me like a criminal in my father’s house. To crown it all, she gave me extra knocks on the head, and my head was swollen. My siblings ran inside, begging her to leave me alone, but she refused. By the time my mum came back, my elder brother had already found a place to hang my leg. I was acting like I wouldn’t see tomorrow. My mum was angry seeing me in that condition—her favourite child that loves gossip? Oh no! When my dad returned, he was angry too, but he didn’t say a word. I knew then that she was finally leaving. But why did it have to be at the expense of extra head? The slap she gave me is still paining me. After we narrated everything to my mum, she said nothing about the meat. She was only angry that I was beaten like a piece of metal. Everyone was happy when my mum said Aunty Cynthia would be leaving the next day. I didn’t know nobody liked her from the start! We had been liberated—and I paid the price. The next morning, we helped her with her bags and reclaimed our house. Guess what my dad said to us one week after we chased away my mum’s sister? “My own sister will be coming to stay with us for some time.” We all shouted right in front of him, NO My dad replied: “It’s final. If you don’t like it, go and build your own house!” Anyway, my siblings and I have already made plans for the next visitor. Even hot water is part of the plan. Aunty Beetle-mouth? No! She must not come. That woman doesn’t mind her business. A story by EMMACK
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  • Every wise woman buildeth her house: but the foolish plucketh it down with her hands.
    Every wise woman buildeth her house: but the foolish plucketh it down with her hands.
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  • *OPEN HEAVENS DAILY DEVOTIONAL*

    *DATE: MONDAY, AUGUST 4TH, 2025*

    *THEME: OVERFLOWING HEALTH*

    *MEMORISE:*
    *“Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.” - (3 John 2)*

    *READ: Acts 5:14-16 (KJV)*

    14. And believers were increasingly added to the Lord, multitudes of both men and women,

    15. so that they brought the sick out into the streets and laid them on beds and couches, that at least the shadow of Peter passing by might fall on some of them.

    16. Also a multitude gathered from the surrounding cities to Jerusalem, bringing sick people and those who were tormented by unclean spirits, and they were all healed.

    *MESSAGE:*

    God's will is not just for us to be healthy but to overflow with health. You can be so healthy that when sick people touch you, they will become healed. The Lord Jesus was overflowing with health, which is why the woman with the issue of blood simply touched the hem of His garment and was healed *(Matthew 9:20-22).*

    Years ago, a teenager who had sickle cell anaemia and had been sick all his life stood up to give a testimony in church. He said, "I heard that Daddy G.O. is coming to this church next Sunday. I want to testify that I will be healed next Sunday." Somebody called me to tell me the teenager's testimony, and I started praying that God would allow me to meet him. As God would have it, the young man was standing outside as I got to the church and came out of my car. He didn't look like a teenager at all; he looked so tiny. He came to me and said, "Daddy, I've been sick all my life, but I am confident that since you have come to this church today, I will be healed today." I hugged him and said, "It will be unto you according to your faith." I got his letter some months later, and he wrote, "Dear Daddy, I want to thank God, and I want to thank you. I have been healed since the day you came to our church."

    Beloved, Jesus didn't just die for you to be healthy; He wants your health to overflow such that any sick person you lay hands on will become healed and healthy. He said in *Mark 16:17-18:*

    And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.

    In *(1 Peter 2:24),* the Bible says that Jesus paid for your health; this is why you must hate sicknesses and diseases passionately. Just as Peter's shadow healed the sick (Acts 5:15) and handkerchiefs taken from Paul's body drove out diseases from people *(Acts 19:12),* God wants you to overflow with health and become a channel of healing and health to others. I pray that you will live in constant health all the days of your life and that the healing anointing will flow through you to others, in Jesus' name.

    *PRAYER POINT:*
    Father, please fill me with overflowing health so that I will never be sick again, and the sick will be healed through me, in Jesus' Name.

    *BIBLE IN ONE YEAR:*
    Jeremiah 4-5

    *AUTHOR: PASTOR E.A ADEBOYE*

    *HYMN 7 - I AM THINE O LORD*

    1️⃣. I am Thine, O Lord
    I have heard Thy voice,
    And it told Thy love to me;
    But I long to rise in the arms of faith
    And be closer drawn to Thee.

    *CHORUS:*
    Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
    To the cross where Thou hast died;
    Draw me nearer, nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
    To Thy precious, bleeding side.

    2️⃣. Consecrate me now to Thy service, Lord
    By the power of grace divine
    Let my soul look up with a steadfast hope,
    And my will be lost in Thine.

    3️⃣. Oh, the pure delight of a single hour
    That before Thy throne I spend,
    When I kneel in prayer, and with Thee, my God
    I commune as friend with friend!

    4️⃣. There are depths of love that I cannot know
    Till I cross the narrow sea;
    There are heights of joy that I may not reach
    Till I rest in peace with Thee.
    *OPEN HEAVENS DAILY DEVOTIONAL* *DATE: MONDAY, AUGUST 4TH, 2025* *THEME: OVERFLOWING HEALTH* *MEMORISE:* *“Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.” - (3 John 2)* *READ: Acts 5:14-16 (KJV)* 14. And believers were increasingly added to the Lord, multitudes of both men and women, 15. so that they brought the sick out into the streets and laid them on beds and couches, that at least the shadow of Peter passing by might fall on some of them. 16. Also a multitude gathered from the surrounding cities to Jerusalem, bringing sick people and those who were tormented by unclean spirits, and they were all healed. *MESSAGE:* God's will is not just for us to be healthy but to overflow with health. You can be so healthy that when sick people touch you, they will become healed. The Lord Jesus was overflowing with health, which is why the woman with the issue of blood simply touched the hem of His garment and was healed *(Matthew 9:20-22).* Years ago, a teenager who had sickle cell anaemia and had been sick all his life stood up to give a testimony in church. He said, "I heard that Daddy G.O. is coming to this church next Sunday. I want to testify that I will be healed next Sunday." Somebody called me to tell me the teenager's testimony, and I started praying that God would allow me to meet him. As God would have it, the young man was standing outside as I got to the church and came out of my car. He didn't look like a teenager at all; he looked so tiny. He came to me and said, "Daddy, I've been sick all my life, but I am confident that since you have come to this church today, I will be healed today." I hugged him and said, "It will be unto you according to your faith." I got his letter some months later, and he wrote, "Dear Daddy, I want to thank God, and I want to thank you. I have been healed since the day you came to our church." Beloved, Jesus didn't just die for you to be healthy; He wants your health to overflow such that any sick person you lay hands on will become healed and healthy. He said in *Mark 16:17-18:* And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover. In *(1 Peter 2:24),* the Bible says that Jesus paid for your health; this is why you must hate sicknesses and diseases passionately. Just as Peter's shadow healed the sick (Acts 5:15) and handkerchiefs taken from Paul's body drove out diseases from people *(Acts 19:12),* God wants you to overflow with health and become a channel of healing and health to others. I pray that you will live in constant health all the days of your life and that the healing anointing will flow through you to others, in Jesus' name. *PRAYER POINT:* Father, please fill me with overflowing health so that I will never be sick again, and the sick will be healed through me, in Jesus' Name. *BIBLE IN ONE YEAR:* Jeremiah 4-5 *AUTHOR: PASTOR E.A ADEBOYE* *HYMN 7 - I AM THINE O LORD* 1️⃣. I am Thine, O Lord I have heard Thy voice, And it told Thy love to me; But I long to rise in the arms of faith And be closer drawn to Thee. *CHORUS:* Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord, To the cross where Thou hast died; Draw me nearer, nearer, nearer, blessed Lord, To Thy precious, bleeding side. 2️⃣. Consecrate me now to Thy service, Lord By the power of grace divine Let my soul look up with a steadfast hope, And my will be lost in Thine. 3️⃣. Oh, the pure delight of a single hour That before Thy throne I spend, When I kneel in prayer, and with Thee, my God I commune as friend with friend! 4️⃣. There are depths of love that I cannot know Till I cross the narrow sea; There are heights of joy that I may not reach Till I rest in peace with Thee.
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  • Aproko doctor said as a man, if you're growing breast like a woman, you need to go check your liver
    Aproko doctor said as a man, if you're growing breast like a woman, you need to go check your liver
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  • Here's the secret.
    Here's a little secret about the woman you are in a relationship with.
    No matter how strong, or beautiful, or even independent she may be...she still wants to be accepted by you.
    She wants you to notice when she steps out of her comfort zone and tries something new.
    She wants you to compliment her on a daily basis.
    She wants you to back up your promises with your actions because she's been taken for granted one too many times.
    She wants you to notice small things about her like the way she likes her coffee in the morning, her favorite smell or what movies make her cry.
    She wants you to help her heal from the trauma nobody apologized for.
    She wants you to pick her flowers on Wednesday after work because you thought about her on your way home.
    She doesn't want you to give her the world, but she only wants to feel like she's a priority in yours.
    I promise you.....that she finds nothing more attractive than a man who is strong enough to encourage her to grow and shows her effort with every day that passes.
    Take my advice ..... and be the man who chases her, long after you already have her.
    Here's the secret. Here's a little secret about the woman you are in a relationship with. No matter how strong, or beautiful, or even independent she may be...she still wants to be accepted by you. She wants you to notice when she steps out of her comfort zone and tries something new. She wants you to compliment her on a daily basis. She wants you to back up your promises with your actions because she's been taken for granted one too many times. She wants you to notice small things about her like the way she likes her coffee in the morning, her favorite smell or what movies make her cry. She wants you to help her heal from the trauma nobody apologized for. She wants you to pick her flowers on Wednesday after work because you thought about her on your way home. She doesn't want you to give her the world, but she only wants to feel like she's a priority in yours. I promise you.....that she finds nothing more attractive than a man who is strong enough to encourage her to grow and shows her effort with every day that passes. Take my advice ..... and be the man who chases her, long after you already have her.
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  • BABY MAMA TRAP
    PART 3
    Onyinye stared at the DNA results in her hands, her fingers trembling slightly. The words "99.99% Probability of Paternity" glared back at her, the ink seeming to burn through the paper. A slow, bitter smile curved her lips.
    "Now we’ll see who’s playing games, Kolawole," she whispered to herself.
    She spent the next three days plotting her next move. She couldn’t just show up at his office or home—no, that would be too easy. Kolawole was a powerful man, with security and lawyers who could make her disappear if he wanted to.
    She needed leverage.
    And then it hit her—his wife.
    If anyone deserved to know the truth, it was the woman Kolawole was betraying every time he stepped out with girls like Onyinye.
    She opened her laptop and searched for "Mrs. Adebayo Lagos charity events." Within minutes, she found what she needed—a high-profile fundraiser happening that weekend at the Eko Hotel. The wife, Amina Adebayo*, would definitely be there.
    Perfect.
    Onyinye slipped into the event wearing a simple but elegant black dress, her hair styled in soft curls. The ballroom was filled with Lagos' elite—politicians, business moguls, and socialites sipping champagne under crystal chandeliers.
    And there she was—Amina Adebayo.
    Kolawole’s wife was even more stunning in person. Tall, graceful, her makeup flawless, dressed in a custom-made lilac gown that probably cost more than Onyinye’s yearly salary.
    Onyinye’s stomach twisted with guilt. This woman had no idea.
    But then she remembered Kolawole’s cold dismissal, the way he had thrown money at her like she was nothing.
    No. She wouldn’t back down now.
    She waited until Amina was alone near the dessert table before approaching.
    "Good evening, Mrs. Adebayo," Onyinye said, her voice steady despite her racing heart.
    Amina turned, her polite smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Hello, have we met?"
    Onyinye took a deep breath. "No. But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say."
    She pulled out the DNA test from her clutch and handed it over.
    Amina’s perfectly manicured fingers took the paper, her brow furrowing as she scanned it. Then—her face changed.
    The color drained from her cheeks. Her lips parted slightly.
    "What… is this?"
    Onyinye met her gaze. "I’m pregnant. And your husband is the father."
    For a long moment, Amina didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
    Then, in a voice so quiet it sent chills down Onyinye’s spine, she said:
    "Follow me."
    Amina led her to a private lounge upstairs, away from prying eyes. The moment the door closed, her calm façade shattered.
    "How dare you?" she hissed, her eyes blazing. "Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?"
    Onyinye stood her ground. "I didn’t come here to fight. I came because you deserve to know the truth."
    Amina laughed—a sharp, bitter sound. "The truth? You think I don’t know what kind of man my husband is?" She stepped closer, her perfume suffocating. "But you—you’re just another cheap slut trying to cash in."
    Onyinye flinched but didn’t back down. "I don’t want his money. I just want him to take responsibility for his child."
    Amina’s eyes flickered to Onyinye’s still-flat stomach, her expression unreadable. Then, without warning, she grabbed Onyinye’s wrist, her grip like steel.
    "Listen carefully," she whispered. "If you ever try to contact my family again, you’ll regret it. That child will never be an Adebayo. Do you understand?"
    Onyinye yanked her arm free, her pulse roaring in her ears. "We’ll see about that."
    She turned and walked out, her legs shaking but her head held high.
    That night, Onyinye lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
    She had thought exposing Kolawole would force him to do the right thing.
    But she had underestimated his wife.
    Amina wasn’t just hurt—she was dangerous.
    And now, Onyinye had made an enemy of one of the most powerful women in Lagos.
    Her phone buzzed. An unknown number.
    She opened the message—and her blood turned to ice.
    It was a photo. Of her. Standing outside her apartment building.
    The caption:
    "You should have stayed away."
    TO BE CONTINUED...
    BABY MAMA TRAP PART 3 Onyinye stared at the DNA results in her hands, her fingers trembling slightly. The words "99.99% Probability of Paternity" glared back at her, the ink seeming to burn through the paper. A slow, bitter smile curved her lips. "Now we’ll see who’s playing games, Kolawole," she whispered to herself. She spent the next three days plotting her next move. She couldn’t just show up at his office or home—no, that would be too easy. Kolawole was a powerful man, with security and lawyers who could make her disappear if he wanted to. She needed leverage. And then it hit her—his wife. If anyone deserved to know the truth, it was the woman Kolawole was betraying every time he stepped out with girls like Onyinye. She opened her laptop and searched for "Mrs. Adebayo Lagos charity events." Within minutes, she found what she needed—a high-profile fundraiser happening that weekend at the Eko Hotel. The wife, Amina Adebayo*, would definitely be there. Perfect. Onyinye slipped into the event wearing a simple but elegant black dress, her hair styled in soft curls. The ballroom was filled with Lagos' elite—politicians, business moguls, and socialites sipping champagne under crystal chandeliers. And there she was—Amina Adebayo. Kolawole’s wife was even more stunning in person. Tall, graceful, her makeup flawless, dressed in a custom-made lilac gown that probably cost more than Onyinye’s yearly salary. Onyinye’s stomach twisted with guilt. This woman had no idea. But then she remembered Kolawole’s cold dismissal, the way he had thrown money at her like she was nothing. No. She wouldn’t back down now. She waited until Amina was alone near the dessert table before approaching. "Good evening, Mrs. Adebayo," Onyinye said, her voice steady despite her racing heart. Amina turned, her polite smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Hello, have we met?" Onyinye took a deep breath. "No. But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say." She pulled out the DNA test from her clutch and handed it over. Amina’s perfectly manicured fingers took the paper, her brow furrowing as she scanned it. Then—her face changed. The color drained from her cheeks. Her lips parted slightly. "What… is this?" Onyinye met her gaze. "I’m pregnant. And your husband is the father." For a long moment, Amina didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Then, in a voice so quiet it sent chills down Onyinye’s spine, she said: "Follow me." Amina led her to a private lounge upstairs, away from prying eyes. The moment the door closed, her calm façade shattered. "How dare you?" she hissed, her eyes blazing. "Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?" Onyinye stood her ground. "I didn’t come here to fight. I came because you deserve to know the truth." Amina laughed—a sharp, bitter sound. "The truth? You think I don’t know what kind of man my husband is?" She stepped closer, her perfume suffocating. "But you—you’re just another cheap slut trying to cash in." Onyinye flinched but didn’t back down. "I don’t want his money. I just want him to take responsibility for his child." Amina’s eyes flickered to Onyinye’s still-flat stomach, her expression unreadable. Then, without warning, she grabbed Onyinye’s wrist, her grip like steel. "Listen carefully," she whispered. "If you ever try to contact my family again, you’ll regret it. That child will never be an Adebayo. Do you understand?" Onyinye yanked her arm free, her pulse roaring in her ears. "We’ll see about that." She turned and walked out, her legs shaking but her head held high. That night, Onyinye lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She had thought exposing Kolawole would force him to do the right thing. But she had underestimated his wife. Amina wasn’t just hurt—she was dangerous. And now, Onyinye had made an enemy of one of the most powerful women in Lagos. Her phone buzzed. An unknown number. She opened the message—and her blood turned to ice. It was a photo. Of her. Standing outside her apartment building. The caption: "You should have stayed away." TO BE CONTINUED...
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  • ABY MAMA TRAP
    PART 1
    The loud music from Club Lavish pounded in Onyinye’s ears as she stepped inside, the bass vibrating through her whole body. The air smelled like expensive perfume, sweat, and alcohol. She adjusted the tight red dress that clung to her curves, feeling both nervous and excited. Her best friends, Amaka and Chioma, had dragged her out tonight, saying, "Onyi, you’re too young to be sitting at home every weekend! Come and have fun!"
    So here she was—Onyinye Obi, 24 years old, a bank teller with big dreams, standing in the middle of Asaba’s most popular nightclub. She wasn’t the type to do things like this. She was careful. She was smart. But tonight… tonight, she just wanted to forget about her problems.
    Then she saw him.
    Tall. Dark. Handsome. Dressed in a black designer suit that screamed money. His gold Rolex glinted under the flashing club lights as he sipped his drink. He stood near the VIP section, surrounded by men who laughed too loud at everything he said—like he was some kind of king.
    Their eyes met.
    A slow, confident smile spread across his face.
    Onyinye quickly looked away, her heart beating fast. She knew who he was—Chief Kolawole Adebayo, a rich businessman, married with three kids. She had seen his family photos in Hello Nigeria magazine. His wife was beautiful, always dressed in expensive lace, smiling beside him at parties.
    But right now, in this club, with the music thumping and the alcohol flowing, none of that mattered.
    He walked toward her.
    And like a moth drawn to a flame, she let him.
    Three Hours Later
    The hotel room was dark, the only light coming from the city outside the window. Onyinye lay in the soft bed, her body still humming from what had just happened. Chief Kolawole—no, Kola—lay beside her, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her bare arm.
    "You’re so beautiful," he whispered, his voice deep and smooth. "I’ve never met a woman like you."
    She knew she should feel guilty. She knew he had a wife at home. But in that moment, with his warm body pressed against hers, she let herself believe his lies.
    "This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing," he said, kissing her shoulder. "We can keep seeing each other. Just you and me."
    Onyinye’s heart fluttered. Was he serious?
    Then his phone rang.
    The screen lit up—"WIFE" in bold letters.
    Kolawole sighed, sitting up. He answered the call, his voice suddenly sweet, loving—completely different from the way he had just spoken to her.
    "Yes, darling… No, I’m still at the meeting… I’ll be home soon."
    He hung up and stood, pulling on his clothes without looking at her.
    "I have to go,"* he said, tossing a few bills on the bedside table. *"For your taxi."
    And just like that, he was gone.
    Onyinye sat there, staring at the money, feeling ******. Used.
    What did I just do?
    Six Weeks Later
    The bathroom was silent except for the sound of Onyinye’s shaky breaths. She stared at the little white stick in her hand, her stomach twisting in fear.
    Two pink lines.
    Pregnant.
    Her mind raced. *How? They used protection… didn’t they?
    She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering that night—the way Kolawole had whispered in her ear, the way he had made her feel special.
    Now, she was carrying the baby of a man who didn’t even care about her.
    A man who would *never* claim this child.
    ABY MAMA TRAP PART 1 The loud music from Club Lavish pounded in Onyinye’s ears as she stepped inside, the bass vibrating through her whole body. The air smelled like expensive perfume, sweat, and alcohol. She adjusted the tight red dress that clung to her curves, feeling both nervous and excited. Her best friends, Amaka and Chioma, had dragged her out tonight, saying, "Onyi, you’re too young to be sitting at home every weekend! Come and have fun!" So here she was—Onyinye Obi, 24 years old, a bank teller with big dreams, standing in the middle of Asaba’s most popular nightclub. She wasn’t the type to do things like this. She was careful. She was smart. But tonight… tonight, she just wanted to forget about her problems. Then she saw him. Tall. Dark. Handsome. Dressed in a black designer suit that screamed money. His gold Rolex glinted under the flashing club lights as he sipped his drink. He stood near the VIP section, surrounded by men who laughed too loud at everything he said—like he was some kind of king. Their eyes met. A slow, confident smile spread across his face. Onyinye quickly looked away, her heart beating fast. She knew who he was—Chief Kolawole Adebayo, a rich businessman, married with three kids. She had seen his family photos in Hello Nigeria magazine. His wife was beautiful, always dressed in expensive lace, smiling beside him at parties. But right now, in this club, with the music thumping and the alcohol flowing, none of that mattered. He walked toward her. And like a moth drawn to a flame, she let him. Three Hours Later The hotel room was dark, the only light coming from the city outside the window. Onyinye lay in the soft bed, her body still humming from what had just happened. Chief Kolawole—no, Kola—lay beside her, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her bare arm. "You’re so beautiful," he whispered, his voice deep and smooth. "I’ve never met a woman like you." She knew she should feel guilty. She knew he had a wife at home. But in that moment, with his warm body pressed against hers, she let herself believe his lies. "This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing," he said, kissing her shoulder. "We can keep seeing each other. Just you and me." Onyinye’s heart fluttered. Was he serious? Then his phone rang. The screen lit up—"WIFE" in bold letters. Kolawole sighed, sitting up. He answered the call, his voice suddenly sweet, loving—completely different from the way he had just spoken to her. "Yes, darling… No, I’m still at the meeting… I’ll be home soon." He hung up and stood, pulling on his clothes without looking at her. "I have to go,"* he said, tossing a few bills on the bedside table. *"For your taxi." And just like that, he was gone. Onyinye sat there, staring at the money, feeling stupid. Used. What did I just do? Six Weeks Later The bathroom was silent except for the sound of Onyinye’s shaky breaths. She stared at the little white stick in her hand, her stomach twisting in fear. Two pink lines. Pregnant. Her mind raced. *How? They used protection… didn’t they? She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering that night—the way Kolawole had whispered in her ear, the way he had made her feel special. Now, she was carrying the baby of a man who didn’t even care about her. A man who would *never* claim this child.
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  • Most beautiful African Woman
    Most beautiful African Woman
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  • At 29, Isabella Has A 14-Year-Old Son And Just A Week In Big Brother's House, Her B0dy Is Already Reacting Like It’s Powered By Honey And Sugar!

    See How A Guy Is Shamelessly Doing You What Is Not Good In Big Brother's House.

    Your 14-Year-Old Son Will Be So Embarrassed When His Friends Show Him The Videos Trending In All Social Media Platforms Tufiakwa Isabella Of BBNaija

    BBBNaija Isabella Is Something Else In The House, She Is Not Acting Like A Mother At All

    Her Real Name Is Isabella Georgewill, From Abonnema, Kalabari In Rivers State.

    According To Her, She's 29 And Also Has A 14-Year-Old Teenage Son

    Also An Entrepreneur And Still Single

    The First Housemate This Year To Bre@stfeed A Man Live On National TV And Also Runs A Clothing Brand Named Thrift Haven

    She Is The Most Talked About Housemate This Year So Far And Introduced Herself In The BBNaija House As A “Pretty Face, Very Soft‑Hearted, But Very Energetic” Woman, And Also Described Herself As “TV Material” From Day One
    At 29, Isabella Has A 14-Year-Old Son 🤱 And Just A Week In Big Brother's House, Her B0dy Is Already Reacting Like It’s Powered By Honey And Sugar! ❣️ See How A Guy Is Shamelessly Doing You What Is Not Good In Big Brother's House. Your 14-Year-Old Son Will Be So Embarrassed When His Friends Show Him The Videos Trending In All Social Media Platforms 😭 Tufiakwa Isabella Of BBNaija 💔 BBBNaija Isabella Is Something Else In The House, She Is Not Acting Like A Mother At All 😭 Her Real Name Is Isabella Georgewill, From Abonnema, Kalabari In Rivers State. According To Her, She's 29 And Also Has A 14-Year-Old Teenage Son 🥰 Also An Entrepreneur And Still Single 😘 The First Housemate This Year To Bre@stfeed A Man Live On National TV And Also Runs A Clothing Brand Named Thrift Haven She Is The Most Talked About Housemate This Year So Far And Introduced Herself In The BBNaija House As A “Pretty Face, Very Soft‑Hearted, But Very Energetic” Woman, And Also Described Herself As “TV Material” From Day One 😍
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  • No food for lazy woman
    No food for lazy woman
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  • Habits we need to change before they kill us . Me, number (1) womanising! Add yours, don't spoil the fun.
    Habits we need to change before they kill us 💯. Me, number (1) womanising! Add yours, don't spoil the fun.
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  • BREAKING NEWS

    Archraf Hakimi's R@pê Case filed by 24-year old Amélie is reportedly a set-up to ext0rt money from him and ru!n his Career

    In the Hakimi case, authorities found highly compromising messages between Amélie(woman who claimed Hakimi rãpêd her) and her friend Nadia, revealing an attempted cover-up:

    During the hearing, the police discovered messages on Nadia's phone that Amélie hadn't handed over, including one at 12:48 a.m the day she visited Hakimi.: "Ah, I've got the d£mon, lol."
    Nadia advised her to adopt "femme fatale mode," "to try to pick up the codes," and sent a disturbing message: "We're going to r0b him"; "We're girls from the street (la calle, the street in Spanish)." She also recommended that she listen to "À l'abri" by Fresh la peufra, whose lyrics read: "I had no choice, but to take this rîsk to keep my friends safe."

    Amélie waited downstairs at the Uber without giving the address, before writing at 1:15 a.m.: "I'm going to kîss him," just before the meeting with Hakimi.

    Later, Nadia asked what messages had been shown to the police, suggesting they delete some. When confronted by investigators, they downplayed the messages, referring to them as "j0kes" and "black humor," with Amélie claiming she was laughing to relieve stress (L'EQUIPE)

    Dear Men, beware of the W0men you associate with especially when you're successful
    BREAKING NEWS 🚨‼️ Archraf Hakimi's R@pê Case filed by 24-year old Amélie is reportedly a set-up to ext0rt money from him and ru!n his Career 🥶 In the Hakimi case, authorities found highly compromising messages between Amélie(woman who claimed Hakimi rãpêd her) and her friend Nadia, revealing an attempted cover-up: During the hearing, the police discovered messages on Nadia's phone that Amélie hadn't handed over, including one at 12:48 a.m the day she visited Hakimi.: "Ah, I've got the d£mon, lol." Nadia advised her to adopt "femme fatale mode," "to try to pick up the codes," and sent a disturbing message: "We're going to r0b him"; "We're girls from the street (la calle, the street in Spanish)." She also recommended that she listen to "À l'abri" by Fresh la peufra, whose lyrics read: "I had no choice, but to take this rîsk to keep my friends safe." 🤔 Amélie waited downstairs at the Uber without giving the address, before writing at 1:15 a.m.: "I'm going to kîss him," just before the meeting with Hakimi. Later, Nadia asked what messages had been shown to the police, suggesting they delete some. When confronted by investigators, they downplayed the messages, referring to them as "j0kes" and "black humor," with Amélie claiming she was laughing to relieve stress 👀 (©️L'EQUIPE) Dear Men, beware of the W0men you associate with especially when you're successful 🙌
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