Joseph Jacob

[Joseph Jacob @JosephJacob77]

@MitchelleCandi Good morning to you, Mitchelle.

[Joseph Jacob @JosephJacob77]

@ggtookie Happy birthday 🎉 to you, Janet!

[Joseph Jacob @JosephJacob77]

@ggtookie Hi Janet, regarding your birthday. Here is the thing:
Got you. Here are a few you can use as-is or tweak to sound more like you:

Happy birthday to someone who makes my life brighter just by being in it.
Thank you for the laughs, the late-night..

[Joseph Jacob @JosephJacob77]

@PathOfMen_ @ggtookie Break it down, ' cause lots of practical have been conducted by whom it is concerned, yet no positive conclusion...

[Joseph Jacob @JosephJacob77]

@renoomokri Reno, it has always been about sensorship all along, whatever bunch of garbage which you have said or written, even the great ALi applied reticence and avoided his hot displeasure from being known by the same offsprings of the slave masters.
You are completely wrong!!

[Madrid Zone @theMadridZone]

🚨🚨⚪ CONFIRMED: FLORENTINO PEREZ'S GALACTICO IS MICHAEL OLISE! @jfelixdiaz

[Crazy Vibes @CrazyVibes_1]

She walked three miles to the vet at 2 a.m. — barefoot, in her nightgown. She had just twenty-three dollars to her name. She placed it on the counter and whispered, “This is everything I have. Please don’t let him die.”

On a freezing Tuesday night in January 2023, an emergency veterinary clinic in a small city in central Ohio received an unusual walk-in at 2:14 a.m.

Not by car. Not by ambulance. A woman. Alone. On foot. In twenty-eight-degree weather, moving through the dark with nothing but urgency to guide her.

She was sixty-one years old. A thin bathrobe hung loosely over a worn nightgown. No shoes covered her feet. They were raw — cracked, reddened, and bleeding from miles of frozen pavement. She hadn’t stopped to find anything warmer.

Hadn’t searched for shoes. There was no time. She didn’t call a cab because she didn’t own a phone. She didn’t call anyone because there was no one left to call.

In her arms, she carried a dog.

A large, aging mixed-breed — something close to a retriever — around twelve years old. Wrapped tightly in a small towel. His body hung limp. His breathing came fast and shallow, the kind that signals something is terribly wrong. His gums had gone pale. His eyes barely opened.

She reached the front desk and carefully placed a small stack of money on the counter.

Twenty-three dollars. Everything she had.

Beside it, she laid a handwritten note, torn unevenly from a notebook. It read:

“His name is Arthur. He is 12. He stopped eating 3 days ago. Tonight he collapsed and couldn’t stand. I don’t have insurance. I don’t have a car. I walked. This is all the money I have. I will pay the rest. I will do anything. Please help him. He is all I have.”

The receptionist looked down at the money.

Then at the woman’s bare, injured feet.

Then at the dog in her arms.

She turned away for a moment, covering her mouth as the weight of it settled in.

The veterinarian on duty examined Arthur immediately. He was in acute kidney failure — a condition that can be treated if caught in time, but only with urgent care. He needed IV fluids, medication, constant monitoring.

The estimate came to $1,400.

The woman had $23.

The vet didn’t hesitate.

“Start treatment,” she said. “We’ll take care of the rest.”

They admitted him as an emergency case. Paperwork could wait. Time could not.

The woman refused to take her money back. She left it on the counter and sat quietly in the waiting room — barefoot, wrapped in her robe, holding the now-empty towel Arthur had been wrapped in.

She didn’t ask for anything.

Not water.

Not coffee.

Nothing.

She just sat there. Waiting.

At 3 a.m., a technician brought her a pair of slippers and a warm blanket. She accepted the slippers without a word.

But when offered the blanket, she gently shook her head.

“Give it to him,” she said softly.

By morning, the entire day staff had heard her story.

Arthur stabilized slowly over the next three days. The fluids began to work. His levels improved. On the second day, he managed a few bites of food. By the third, he stood. By the fourth, his tail wagged again.

And every single day, she returned.

Walking the same three miles. Each way.

Six miles total.

Through the cold.

On the second day, someone from a nearby church gave her a pair of shoes. She wore them without socks, the fabric rubbing against healing skin.

She sat in the same chair each visit, holding that towel, waiting with quiet patience.

On the fourth day, they brought Arthur out to her.

She held him exactly the way she had when she arrived — wrapped close, her chin resting gently on his head. He pressed his face into her neck. She closed her eyes, as if finally allowing herself to breathe again.

The veterinarian told her there would be no bill.

She shook her head and placed the twenty-three dollars back on the counter.

“I owe you,” she said. “This is what I have. I’ll bring more when I can.”

The vet slid the money back toward her.

“You walked three miles barefoot in the middle of the night to save him,” she said gently. “You don’t owe us anything. You already paid.”

Quietly, the staff pooled their own money. They sent her home with medication, special food, and a follow-up visit already covered.

One of the technicians drove them home — the first car ride either of them had taken in over a year.

Her home was small. Just a single room tucked behind another house. One bed. One chair. A hot plate. A worn dog bed in the corner. A ceramic bowl with “Arthur” written across it in chipped paint.

Two photographs hung on the wall. One of a man — likely her late husband. The other of Arthur as a young dog.

Arthur recovered.

He’s older now, slower, but still by her side.

She learned how to give him fluids herself — something that once frightened her. But she learned anyway. For him.

And the twenty-three dollars?

She still keeps it. Folded neatly inside her nightstand.

She never spent it.

Because in her mind, it still belongs to him — waiting, just in case he ever needs it again.

The receptionist who read that note still has a photo of it saved on her phone. She’s never shared it publicly.

She just looks at it sometimes.

Because out of every emergency she’s witnessed — every client with insurance cards, payment plans, and resources —

No one ever gave more to walk through that door than a woman who had nothing…

…and still gave everything.

And Arthur?

Every night, he sleeps safely under a roof.

Curled beside the person who walked through darkness, through cold, through pain — just to make sure he lived.

And now, he never has to wonder again if he’s loved.

[Tony Ajah @tonyajah]

Yesterday, I was in Umuahia. On our way from Aba, it rained all through the journey until we arrived in Umuahia.

When we got there, I stopped at the New Bus Terminal (Nnenna Oti Bus Terminal). Because of the rain, I quickly went into the terminal to take shelter before heading to my destination.

Since it was my first time there, I had to ask a few questions. From the gate to the waiting hall, I was directed to where I needed to go based on the service I came for. I must say that the reception was warm, from the security personnel to every staff member I met.

While waiting in the terminal hall with other passengers, I decided to get my card for the electric bus since I plan to use it subsequently . The process was smooth and straightforward.

A few things I noticed:
1.The card is quite affordable.

https://t.co/UCG6lEpSJ9 only need your ABSIN number. If you don’t have one, you can get it right there at the terminal.

3.If you’ve forgotten your ABSIN number, it can also be retrieved on the spot.

4.After that, you proceed to get your card, load it with any amount of your choice, and you’re ready to access the electric bus at a discounted rate.

I was genuinely impressed by how easy and organized the process was.

Thank you to the Abia State Government for putting the welfare and convenience of the people into consideration. I am super proud of my state. ❤️

God bles Gov Alex Chioma Otti
God bless Ndi Abia
God bless Nigeria

~ Obiaka Ezinne

[TheeCandid✌🏾 @khal_juniier]

🗣️ : "that's why I was recording"

[Midas @Midas_316]

If you remember this advert, then you should have grandkids by now.

[ChrisExcel @ChrisExcel102]

So basically there’s no unemployment in South Africa…

The jobs are being taken by Zai Zai for real #XDeport

[ChrisExcel @ChrisExcel102]

The way my brother Will Smith is always happy when he’s not around that Tupac bald Whore 😭😭😭

[🇿🇦TheGreatDlamini🇿🇦 @Phislash]

Our brothers and sisters in Limpopo need to remember that the fight against illegal immigration will fail if they allow themselves to get used by the EFF to push open border agendas.

[Bhut' uNduuh @Nduuh_Masondo]

Hawu🙆🏻🙆🏻🙆🏻🤣🤣🤣

[Shadow @shadowxsl08]

#NewProfilePic

[Joseph Jacob @JosephJacob77]

@shadowxsl08 It's such a great pleasure, Sharron!!

[Peter Obi Grassroots Mobilization. @PO_GrassRootM]

In just 358 days, Bola Tinubu will hand over power to President Peter Obi. It shall come to pass.

[Joseph Jacob @JosephJacob77]

@tonyajah @LibraLord88 I grasped how young, mature and smart, guys naturally were back in that era. Gowon was such a young man at that time; so was Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu. Now, if we may debunk the bigotry narratives, who is the Villain and the Rebel, after the so called Aburi Pact?!

[Joseph Jacob @JosephJacob77]

@tonyajah @LibraLord88 Start up the Movement of awareness about the hatred, injustice and genocidal annihilation against the IGBO. The young generation need to know the TRUTH!!

[Bonny Nnajiofor @bonynnajiofor]

@tonyajah The only unity in Nigeria is the unity of all tribes to hate the Igbos and it is backfiring in Plateau,Benue, Hausaland ,Kogi and Niger Delta