Anyway, just want women around me to understand, you need to start aspiring towards financial independence with the exact same urgency society wants you to aspire towards marriage.
Here are 9 of the worst men raised by single mothers:
1. Doctor Ben Carson grew up in poverty in Detroit with his single mother named Sonya who could not read. He went on to perform the first successful surgery separating conjoined twins at the head at Johns Hopkins and became U.S. Secretary of Housing and Urban Development.
2. Deval Patrick was 4 years old when his father left. His single mother Emily raised him anyway. He graduated from Harvard Law, ran Bain Capital and became the first Black Governor of Massachusetts.
3. Jan Koum and his mother Faina fled Ukraine with nothing and landed in government housing in the U.S. while she worked as a babysitter. He built WhatsApp and sold it to Facebook for $19 billion.
4. Jeff Bezos was born to a 17 year old named Jackie who was raising him alone, working as a secretary by day and attending night school at night with baby Jeff in tow. By the time he was four she had fought poverty solo long enough to install something in him that never left. He built Amazon. The rest is history you already know.
5. Barack Obama's father left when he was two. His mother Ann Dunham, an anthropologist, became the only constant in his life through every move and every hardship. Obama has called her the single most important influence on who he became. She raised the 44th & first Black President of the United States alone and did not live to see him win.
6. Hayes Barnard grew up with a mother named Dede who worked three jobs after two divorces from an alcoholic father. He founded GoodLeap, a fintech revolutionizing solar energy financing, and is worth $2.9 billion.
7. Thomas Tull was raised by a mother who worked two jobs. He built Legendary Entertainment, the studio behind some of Hollywood's biggest franchises, and sits at a $5.3 billion net worth.
8. Dan D'Aniello's mother Beatrice worked four jobs in Pennsylvania to keep them alive. He went on to co-found The Carlyle Group, one of the largest private equity firms in the world managing hundreds of billions of dollars.
9. Kenny Troutt grew up in a housing project with a mother named Nadine who bartended and cooked at a school to survive. He founded Excel Communications, created thousands of jobs and built a $1.7 billion fortune.
Your Android says storage full. You delete everything. Still full.
It is not your photos. Android has been quietly hiding gigabytes of junk you never see.
23GB cleared yesterday without deleting a single thing that mattered.
Here is where it is hiding:
There’s a serious Lassa fever outbreak in Nigeria right now where 146 people have been confirmed dead in 11 weeks and there have been 582 confirmed cases.
25 doctors have been infected, and 3 have lost their lives.
If you are reading this, please stay safe. This virus spreads through the urine or droppings of infected rats, or human-to-human contact.
It starts like an ordinary fever, but it can quickly move to bleeding, a swollen face, and shock.
ALWAYS:
1. Cover your food and pots tightly.
2. Block the holes where rats enter your house.
3. Wash your hands thoroughly with soap.
4. If you have a persistent fever, stop swallowing random drugs from the chemist. Go to the hospital immediately.
Our health workers are at risk, and proper Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) is life-saving. We cannot afford to lose more people to a preventable disease.
Stay safe and retweet this to save a life today!
@stellsofficial_@kemiadetiba @KemiVisual31151 Wow!! This is topnotch acting. I could feel all the emotions. Raw and unhindered. Well done, Nne. See you on the big screens. 🙌🏽 🎉
@NasheCeezet_zw Ha!! Everlasting misery where are you? Someone is at your door. 😭The divorce was the best decision. Cheating on your pregnant wife and still allowing your side chic have so much influence on your family is doing too much.
@bod_repuplic But how is this a lie? I bought egg rolls for N50 back in secondary school from young men who pushed a glass showcase filled with buns. Buns was N10, Egg roll N50
"Was it really my fault?"
asked the Short Skirt.
"No, it happened with me too,"
replied the Burka.
The diaper in the corner couldn't even speak.
-Darshan Mondkar
If my following reduces to zero because I ask men to stop using degrading language on women in all spaces and stop raping women, so be it.
Unfollow me but STOP RAPING WOMEN!
Stop using degrading language about women.
STOP RAPING WOMEN!
God!! God!!!
Do you understand how much happened to those ladies! It was more than the assault, it was the mob!!!!
They were mobbed like criminals!!!
Pure beastial vigor unleashed on them, in droves!
Can you even picture the horror???
A hand reaches for your breast. You try to swat it away, but two more are already there. You realize you can’t fight them all, so you stop attacking and go into a desperate, frantic defense. You cross your arms tightly over your chest, trying to shield your own body from a drive of invaders. You are a fortress under siege.
But that does nothing.
Five more pairs of hands reach to rip your top. Three more are tugging at your bra, the straps digging into your shoulders. They are prying at your locked arms, trying to force your chest open, while the rest of the mob is pushing and pulling you in a dozen different directions.
You are fighting to keep your bra on, for your dignity.
Your flight response is screaming. Your legs are making a run for it even before your brain can process the path - this is pure survival now. Dignity has taken a back seat. You leap, trying to break free, but they pull. You feel your top give way, the fabric shredding, and suddenly your breasts are feeling the cool evening breeze... exposed to the eyes of these rabid drove.
You are using every ounce of feminine strength, against all these pure masculine energy fueled by the frenzy of a mob and lust… just to keep your arms wrapped around yourself. You’re trying to keep your balance things are happening faster than you can process. You realize you’re losing, so you drop. You collapse into a fetal position on the ground, trying to become as physically small as possible. To disappear.
But before you even hit the ground, hands grab the waistband of your jeans. The fabric is trapped between their grip and your skin. They pull. You feel the denim and the lace of your underwear fold into a brutal, agonizing wedgie between the lips of your vagina - the searing burn of the friction as they tug.
And you’re confused because you didn’t steal, you did kill… you were just a woman, commuting.
I didn’t censor my words because I want it to read as uncomfortable as possible.
Because there is not a single place on earth, in all of human history, where a man has faced this type of coordinated, ritualized horror from a mob of women.
Women get raped for “culture”, they get raped as a “punishment”, they get raped for revenge, they get raped for “duty”, they get raped for “rituals”, they get raped for looking too good, for dressing too scanty, “asking for it”, for being a tease, for getting in a room with a man, for being a toddler, for being an old woman in her 70s, for daring to commute in a BRT, for daring to breathe…
God!!!!
The other day I watched a TikTok that said women leave good men too, not because they aren’t good, but because women get tired. And that hit. Because sometimes it’s not cheating. It’s not disrespect. It’s not some big dramatic thing. Sometimes it’s the mental load. The constant reminding. The feeling like you’re the project manager of the relationship.
It’s like having a “good” worker. They show up. They’re capable. They don’t argue. They’ll do whatever you ask. But every single day you still have to say, “Go to your station. Do your job. Handle that.” And they will. But the fact that you have to keep saying it? That’s the part that drains you.
Relationships can feel like that too. Being a good man isn’t just about doing things once they’re pointed out. It’s about awareness. Initiative. Seeing what needs to be done and doing it without being managed. Nobody wants to feel like their partner’s supervisor.
I don’t want to keep telling you what to do. I want to feel like you already know how to show up.