DREY

Money kicks out bullshit.

[Atiku Abubakar @atiku]

Today marks a significant moment in the history of political coalitions in our country, with the official declaration of my brother and associate, @PeterObi, into the African Democratic Congress (ADC).

It is my pleasure to welcome him officially, as we look forward to a robust working relationship that will foster a virile opposition, one that will ultimately form a government capable of bringing prosperity and peace to our people. And as the @ADCNig Coalition train leaves Enugu, the capital of the Southeast region, I hope this inspires other patriots to join the cause with the train headed in their direction. -AA

[DREY @Drey_Lopek]

@OkaforAust98637 @Row_Haastrup You get the drill! It shouldn't be hard, should it?

[THE KINE 🌕🖤 @asher_kine]

everybody say yellow! 💛🌕

[Baddy of Lagos 👑 @_belikebaddy]

Incase you want to Peller..

[Arojinle @arojinle1]

I just dey get this guy time.

1. You called a snake my daughter.
2. You went ahead to kill the snake.
3. I don't even know what to say.

[Sir Dickson @Wizarab10]

Sex can be transactional, and that is okay. Both parties have to be aware it is transactional and that money would be exchanged for sex.

Can't be having casual sex and feeling entitled to having your bills paid. One time, we were discussing FWB here, and some people asked what the benefit was if the man wasn't paying? The damaged done to us as a people would need exorcism.

Do we think FWB is a 9ja word? What is the man's benefit, too, if the woman isn't paying? Sadly, some of the men didn't know what FWB was because they actually thought they had to pay. Of course, many fought for their right to pay because paying is the only thing that makes them feel like a man as it gives them control.

Nigerians are damaged. Friends with Benefits is simply sex between friends. If you have to pay your friend for sex, it has become prostitution regardless of prior relationship.

[SUPREMOS 🤍🐘 @DONJAZZY]

Just seeing this brother. Unfortunately i wont be able to partner on this at this time. Hopefully somebody else sees this and comes thru for you. Didnt want to keep you going to Day 100.

[John Cena @JohnCena]

I did get a chance to see this. Sorry for the “breakup” and thank you for leaning into forgiveness. Thank you even more for sharing this story and for continuous pursuit of your passion. Congratulations on your 10 years of true perseverance and means the world to see you never give up on yourself.

[Asanwa @Chizitere_xyz]

It happened during my internship at the Teaching Hospital, inside the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit).
​We had a premature baby in Incubator 3. Baby Farouq. He was a fighter. He was hooked up to a mechanical ventilator because his tiny lungs couldn't work on their own yet.

​His father, Mr. Ahmed, was always there. He was a tall, strong man, but in that ward, he looked small. Every evening, he would stand by the window, watching his son, whispering prayers.

​That night, I was doing my rounds, calibrating the oxygen sensors on the ventilators to make sure the flow was perfect. Mr. Ahmed was standing right beside me, asking, "Engineer, the machine is sounding smooth today, abi?"
​I smiled and said, "Yes sir, Farouq is doing well."
​Then, it happened.
​NEPA took the light.
​The hum of the ventilators died instantly. The room went pitch black.

​Usually, the big industrial inverter kicks in within 5 seconds. We waited. One second. Five seconds. Ten seconds.
​Silence.
The batteries were old and hadn't been replaced despite three memos written by the HOD.
​Chaos broke out.
​The Doctor, Dr. Yusuf, screamed, "Ambu-bag! Everyone, manual ventilation!"

​I didn't wait. I switched on my phone torch and dove behind the ventilator. I thought maybe it was a fuse. Maybe I could bypass the inverter and connect it to a portable UPS we kept for emergencies.
​Mr. Ahmed grabbed my shoulder. His grip was shaking.
"Engineer! Fix it! Why did the machine stop? Fix it!"

​I was sweating. I ripped the back panel open. I was checking the terminals with my screwdriver in the dark. I was praying to a God I hadn't spoken to in years. Please, let there be a residual charge. Please.
​But the battery indicator was flat. 0%.
​Dr. Yusuf was manually pumping air into the baby’s lungs with the hand-pump, but it wasn't enough. The baby needed the specific pressure only the machine could give.

​Mr. Ahmed saw his son turning blue. The strong man broke. He fell to his knees, holding the leg of the incubator.
"NEPA, bring light! Oh God, bring light! My son is going!"
​For 15 minutes, we fought in that darkness.
​I was trying to swap the power cord to a different socket, hoping maybe one line had power. My hands were trembling. I felt useless. All my engineering knowledge, all my circuit theory, useless because of diesel and batteries.

​Then, Dr. Yusuf stopped pumping. He lowered his head.
​Mr. Ahmed screamed. "Doctor, why did you stop? Pump him! Engineer, put on the machine now!"
​I stood up, holding my screwdriver, tears running down my face. I couldn't look at him.
​"Flash."
​The bulbs flickered. The AC hummed. NEPA brought the light back.
​The ventilator screen lit up. Beep. Beep. Beep.
​But it was pumping air into a corpse.
​Mr. Ahmed didn't cry immediately. He just stared at the machine that came back to life two minutes too late. Then he looked at me.
​"You fixed it?" he asked, his voice broken.
​I couldn't tell him I didn't fix anything. I couldn't tell him that his son died because someone in the administrative block didn't sign a check for batteries.
​That night, listening to a grown man wail for his son in the corridor, Nigeria broke me. It taught me that in this country, your technical skill means nothing if the system wants to kill you. 💔🇳🇬

[Asanwa @Chizitere_xyz]

Emeka was an SS3 student, bright, handsome, and the head prefect of his set.
​He was rushed to the Accident & Emergency unit at the Teaching Hospital after a bad motorcycle accident along Ugbowo. He had a compound fracture on his femur, the thigh bone. The jagged bone had sliced right through his femoral artery.
​He was bleeding out fast.
​When he arrived, the trauma team was ready. The solution was medically simple. Clamp the artery, fix the bone, and transfuse 3 pints of blood to replace the massive volume he had lost.
​It was a standard procedure. A saveable case.
​But as the nurse rushed in with the blood bags, Emeka’s father, a Senior Elder in their congregation, stepped forward and held up a signed card, the Advance Medical Directive Release document. He spoke with a cold, chilling calmness.
​"Doctor, stop. We do not accept blood. It is against Jehovah’s law. Use alternatives. Use non blood volume expanders. We have signed the release."
​The Lead Surgeon was sweating. He tried to reason with him.
"Sir! Your son has lost over 50% of his blood volume! Saline and Expanders can only boost his blood pressure, they cannot carry oxygen! Only Red Blood Cells carry oxygen. If we don't transfuse him now, his organs will shut down from hypoxia. He will suffocate from the inside!"
​That was when Emeka’s mother broke. She fell to her knees: "Papa Emeka, please! He is our only son! Let them give him blood! I will do penance! Don't let him die!"
​The father didn't even look at her. He pulled his leg away and hissed.
"Woman, stand up! Do not be a stumbling block! Do you want him to live for a few years and lose his Eternal Life? I am an Elder. I will not compromise my household's integrity."
​He chose his rank in the church over his son’s life.
​I stood by the monitor, watching the numbers drop. It was the most frustrating thing I have ever witnessed as a Biomedical Engineer.
​The machine was working. The blood bank was full. The cure was hanging in a plastic bag, N25,000 worth of life.
​But religion stood at the door.
​We watched Emeka fade. It wasn't a peaceful sleep. It was Air Hunger. When you don't have enough red blood cells, your brain screams for oxygen. Emeka was gasping, thrashing, his eyes bulging with panic, trying to inhale air that his diluted blood couldn't carry to his brain.
​He looked at his father. He whispered, "Daddy, I can't breathe, help me."
​His father held his hand and whispered back, "Be faithful, my son. Jehovah is watching. He won't let anything happen to his flesh."
​At 4:30 PM, the SpO2 monitor hit zero. The ECG let out a long, flat tone. Beeeeeeep.
​Emeka died.
​He didn't die because the accident was fatal. He died because of a doctrine.
​The worst part? When he died, i could see tears dropped from the man eyes, He turned to the weeping mother and said, "Stop crying. He kept his integrity. He died a faithful witness."
​I walked out of the A&E and when I walked passed him i let out a very loud hiss and gave him a very disgusting eye, went to the back of the generator house to scream.
​They called it Faith.
I called it Assisted Suicide.
​I really hope Aunty Esther doesn't end up as a martyr. She is sacrificing her life for a doctrine written by men who have never stepped foot in a laboratory. Men who convinced her that the God who created the complex biology of blood compatibility would rather she leave her children motherless than accept a bag of blood

[The Ilaje Sultan 🫅 @ogunmusi]

Off my head, I know individuals battling cancer, one of whom is my Matron at FMC Idoekiti who has sold all she had for treatment.

A fraction of what is available would go a long way, If Aunty Esther doesn't want treatment, she will be a willing beneficiary.

Meanwhile, JW are one of the most complicated patients you will ever have- especially the ones in Nigeria.

I have partaken in legal battle after saving a child alongside a brace medical team.

[David Hundeyin @DavidHundeyin]

"Africans need to tAkE reSponSibiliTy and sToP tAlkIng aBouT cOloNiSatIoN and bLamInG wHitE mEn fOr EveRytHinG."

Meanwhile, here is someone about to miss out on life-saving treatment because these 7 white American men and 1 token black man in Brooklyn, New York, told her that a certain form of medical treatment is a "sin," based on their interpretation of a portion of a book written 2,000 years ago by goat herders in what is now Palestine.

This idiot has probably never left Nigeria before in her life, and cannot locate Brooklyn on an unmarked map of the world. But a group of Muzungus in Brooklyn are making her decisions for her, up to and including whether she chooses to live or die.

And THAT is what it means to be colonised. Whether you have a fucking flag and national anthem or not.

You morons are still under occupation.

[Edem 𝕏🦅 @Edem_RMFC]

I was ready to risk it all until I saw her bio😔💔

[WildLagos @wildlagos]

2025

MOVIE TITLE: A DAY IN LAGOS 🇳🇬

A New Film Now Streaming Exclusively on

https://t.co/AEvV9pCNkR

[Mbeumo Era @MbeumoEra]

Over here, if Chelsea vs United game is fixed at the same time with El Classico.

Just go to your house and watch the El Classico cos every Viewing Centre will be showing Chelsea vs United match.

[Black_Melanin🥰 @itz_taser]

The same way you're disgusted is the same way rich men feel when a poor girl is trying to get their attention.

[THE KINE 🌕🖤 @asher_kine]

PART 2 - may the stars align in your favour. 🌕🖤

[Ifedolapo💜 @Temileyii_]

One of the biggest motivations that forced me to start my BSc was this tweet, I remember coming across the screenshot on Facebook. Three more semesters and this girl will drop her pen 🥹
Started late, but I got the reward for starting.

[🐉🏍️ @Kamau266]

You and your child are comming as a responsibility but me and my child will never be your responsibility..I will still feed you.