I was invited to preach in a foreign country
The protocol officers were supposed to take me straight to the hotel from the airport, but I wanted to see the church and get a feel of the auditorium without the crowd
It helps sometimes to take a walk around the auditorium while praying quietly before one ministers
Especially if you are led by the Holy Spirit to do so
So I told the protocol guys to take me to the church
When we got there, I told them to wait in the car while I took a walk within the main auditorium
They argued a bit, but eventually agreed that I would be fine by myself
I went to into the church auditorium and slowly began my silent prayer walk
When I got to the rear exit of the auditorium, I saw some very beautiful decorations
They were so beautiful and compelling to the point that I felt like touching them
I touched them and several of the carefully arranged flowers fell off
Ha! What sort of trouble is this?
I began to pick them up
A lady came out of nowhere and started helping me to pick them up
I apologised to her and said, "I am willing to pay for the damages, please help me fix this."
She gave me that bombastic side eye
Two other ladies arrived on the scene with brooms in their hands
They began to help pick the flowers and rearrange them
Out of the corner of my eyes, I realised I knew one of them
She was the wife of the pastor who invited me to his church to preach
Ha! Pastor's wife, I screamed
She also recognised me at the same time
Ha! Brother Gbenga, she screamed
What are you doing here with a broom in your hand? I asked
She looked at the other ladies, and they gave us some distance
She said, "I am trusting God for a child, and I made a vow to God that I will keep his house clean until he answers my prayers."
I looked at her intently and said "So you and two other ladies sweep this huge auditorium whenever you have a service?"
She said, "No, sir, they accompany me, but I sweep it all by myself everyday sir. I have been doing this for about six months now."
Wow!
I said, "So how do you get home and give bishop good sex after this sort of manual labour?"
She kept quiet.
I said, "In Jesus name, I relieve you of this vow.
Receive your babies now as a favour from the Lord."
She fell on her knees and shouted Amen.
I signalled the other ladies over and told them that their pastor's wife would no longer be sweeping the church daily.
Their faces lit up.
It must have been daily torture for both of them to watch her labour like that for six months.
The one who gave me a bombastic side eye before, took advantage of the situation and said, "Sir, I am also trusting God to provide me with a husband. I want to be married by this time next year, I am 35 years old sir"
I smiled and said, "For helping me out earlier, whatever you ask of the Lord has been given to you by the power of the Holy Spirit".
She also said Amen.
I prayed for the third lady, too.
The third lady was the Pastor's wife's younger sister. She knelt down so many times, thanking me for setting her and her sister free from the daily labour.
This is the good news I received a year later.
The pastor's wife delivered a set of triplets, the other lady got married and delivered a baby girl, while the pastor's wife's younger sister got married too and delivered a set of twins!
So much good news to share to the Glory of God
PS: I also learnt my lessons about touching decorations when I do my prayer walk.
I now keep my hands to myself.
-GSW-
Like I've said before, people will be shocked by how fast Evs are adopted in Nigeria.
It's very well suited to our culture of "innovating" around structural problems. (E.g boreholes, generators, etc)
They produce millions of children, some grow up to be ready tools for terrorists after spending years in poverty and illiteracy. Then they come back to terrorise and kidnap their fellow poor people for ransom; the government organizes another mass wedding, and the circle continues.
Shame.
DID YOU KNOW??
In Nigeria, the modern diet has shifted toward "heavy" processed carbohydrates and hidden sugars, leading to a massive spike in Type 2 diabetes and hypertension. Many staple food people consider "heavy" or "filling" are actually nutritionally empty, causing what nutritionists call "hidden hunger."
1. The "White" Culprits (Bread & Pasta)
Most bread in Nigeria is "Agege" style or white loaves, which are packed with potassium bromate (though banned, it still lingers, we know the country we live in!) and massive amounts of sugar to keep them soft. Similarly, pasta is refined wheat that spikes blood sugar almost instantly. Avoid them!
The Alternative? Boiled Unripe Plantain or Sweet Potatoes. Unripe plantain is a "resistant starch," meaning it digests slowly and won't give you that mid-day energy crash and potatoes are pretty healthy.
2. The "Semo" Trap
Semolina (Semo) is often marketed as a "light" alternative to Pounded Yam, but it is actually highly refined wheat flour. It has a high Glycemic Index (GI), meaning it turns into sugar in your bloodstream very quickly, diabetes is that you??
The Alternative? Acha (Fonio) or Oat Swallow. Fonio is an ancient African supergrain that is gluten-free and packed with amino acids. Oat swallow provides the fiber necessary for heart health. At the very least consider yellow garri 😅.
3. Alcohol & Soda (The Liquid Sugars)
In the Nigerian heat, chilled sodas and beer are staples. A single bottle of soda can contain up to 12 cubes of sugar. Over time, this causes fatty liver disease, avoid them!
The Alternative? Zobo (Hibiscus tea) or Kunu Aya (Tigernut milk). NOTE: Ensure the Zobo is made without added white sugar, use dates or pineapple skins for natural sweetness. Zobo is scientifically proven to help lower blood pressure, a very underrated drink or DRINK WATER! Nothing really beats water my people. 🤷🏾♂️😅
4. Shawarma & Pizza (The Calorie Bombs)
Nigerian-style Shawarma is often drenched in "creamy" mayo and sweetened ketchup, wrapped in refined flour. A single wrap can exceed 800 calories, nearly half your daily needs. It's killing you oooo!
The alternative? Grilled Fish with Ugba or Garnished Beans. If you crave that "wrap" feeling, try a homemade wrap using lettuce leaves or local cabbage as the shell. At the very least make things like shawarma and pizza a very rare addition to your diet.
Finally, one of the most important facts for 2026 is the danger of REUSED VEGETABLE OIL. Many street food vendors in Nigeria reuse oil for days, which creates polar compounds that are highly inflammatory. When choosing alternatives like Suya or Grilled Fish, always ensure the accompanying sides aren't deep-fried in old oil.... This is mostly impossible, so what does that mean? Try to cook this stuff at home and eat them outside sparingly!
Those food look enticing, but they bring you closer to death far more than you can imagine. And also remember avoid PROCESSED FOOD! Sausages, bacon, minced meat, sausages burger meat, sausages..... These stuff have links to carcinogens. I've warned you sha.
Hopefully you've learnt something new today?
Daalu 👍🏾 🙂
The Medic Who Writes™🌚
You celebrate buying a House & Car with a loan, but you are criticizing a first class Engineering Graduate for acknowledging his own academic success ?
If some of you are honest, you will be asking @NELFUND to change policies, so First Class Graduates shouldn’t have to repay loans. Even better is not using loans to fund living expenses during months of ASUU strike.
Chairman of NELFUND is Zenith Bank Founder - Jim Ovia and it’s MD is Akintunde Sawyerr, a former DHL & Medtronic Executive. I saw this combo and realized only good outcomes will emerge from this!
My father never came to a single thing I invited him to.
Not my primary school graduation. Not my secondary school prize giving where I collected 3 awards and kept looking at the gate. Not my university matriculation. Not the ceremony when I got called to bar in 2012. I'd send him the date weeks in advance and he'd say I'll try and that was always the full sentence. I'll try. No follow up. No explanation after.
My mother would sit in his place and clap loud enough for 2 people.
I stopped inviting him after the bar call. Not from anger. Some people love you completely and still cannot show up and after a while you stop making them feel guilty about it.
He was not a bad man. I want to be clear about that.
He was a mechanic in Mushin for 35 years. Worked 6 days a week. Sent every one of us to school. Never raised his hand. Never left. The lights stayed on and the rent was paid and there was always food and he did all of it quietly without asking to be celebrated.
He just could not sit in a plastic chair and watch something.
I accepted that and moved on.
Last year I bought my first property. A flat in Ojodu. Took 9 years of saving and 2 years of paperwork and a lawyer who nearly finished me. When the keys finally came I sat in the empty flat on the floor for an hour just breathing.
I called my mother first. She screamed. My sister cried.
I didn't call my father.
3 days later he called me.
Said he heard about the flat from my mother. Said he wanted to come and see it.
I didn't know what to do with that so I just said okay. Gave him the address. Figured he'd say I'll try and we'd never speak of it again.
He showed up on Saturday at 9am.
Stood at the door in his good agbada. The one he only wears for serious things. Holding a small nylon bag.
I let him in and he walked through every room without speaking. Not quickly. Slowly. Like he was counting something. He checked the pipes under the kitchen sink. Knocked on the walls. Opened and closed the windows twice each. Looked at the ceiling in every room the way only a man who has fixed things his whole life looks at ceilings.
Then he came and stood in the sitting room and looked at me.
Said the pipework is good. Said the windows seal properly. Said whoever built this knew what they were doing.
I nodded.
Long silence.
Then he opened the nylon bag.
Inside was a small framed photo. Me at maybe 7 years old sitting on the bonnet of an old car in his workshop. Grinning. Both legs swinging. He's standing beside me with his hand on my shoulder looking at something outside the frame. I remember that day. I had gone to the workshop after school and he let me sit there while he worked and gave me a Fanta and put a Michael Jackson cassette on the small radio.
I didn't know anyone had taken a photo.
He said he kept it on his workshop table for 22 years. Said he wanted me to have something for the new place.
I held that frame and stood very still.
He said he knew he missed things. Said he was not good at the sitting and watching. That crowds made something in him go wrong in a way he never knew how to explain.
Then he said the flat was good and he was proud and he asked if there was anything in the kitchen because he hadn't eaten.
I laughed.
Made him eggs and bread while he sat at my kitchen table in his good agbada like he owned the place.
We ate and he told me about a car he was working on. I told him about a case that was giving me trouble. Normal conversation. The kind we should have been having for years.
He left at 1pm. At the door he gripped my shoulder the same way he did in that photo.
Didn't say anything.
Didn't need to.
The photo is on my sitting room wall now. First thing I hung in the whole flat.
Some fathers cannot sit in the plastic chair.
But mine drove to Ojodu in his good agbada on a Saturday morning with a 22 year old photograph in a nylon bag.
That was his standing ovation.
I just didn't know to look for it in that shape.