This is what Nigeria needs right now
🟥 PASTOR CHRIS PRAYS FOR NIGERIA AND DECLARES PROPHETIC WORDS OF PEACE AND PROSPERITY
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A peace that will surprise the world !!!
#NightOfBliss#PastorChris#ChristEmbassy#SupernaturalNight #NigeriaForJesus #GloryEverywhere #SpiritFilledNight
💥🇳🇬Happening Now!
We’re coming to you LIVE from the Nigeria Police College, GRA Ikeja, Lagos 🇳🇬 for NIGHT OF BLISS NIGERIA with our dear Man of God, Pastor Chris Oyakhilome, DSc., DSc., DD!
Stay tuned right here for more updates and unforgettable moments!
🌟 THE NIGHT OF NIGHTS IS HERE— Victor an invitee, shares his expectations from A Night of Bliss with Pastor Chris tonight! 🌟
Christ Embassy presents A Night of Bliss with Pastor Chris — Friday, 21 November 2025! 🔥🙌
👉TIME: 6PM TILL DAWN
✨One event.
✨Eleven Locations.
My dad was just 23 when I was born. By the time I gained admission into university at 16, he was only 39.
We practically grew up together.
He raised me not just as a father, but also as a brother and friend.
The bond we share is unbreakable.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Ononenyi, my main man—may God continue to bless you richly.
~ Leo, first son of Pete Edochie
The Ukrainian MRAP M1224 International MaxxPro of American manufacture destroyed near the settlement of Rabotino by the soldiers of the 291st Motorized Rifle Regiment of the Russian Armed Forces
The word "north" comes from Proto-Indo-European *ner-*, meaning "left" or "below," likely linked to the sun’s position—like "below" the earth or left when facing east. It evolved through Old English *norþ* and Germanic *nurþrą*. The North Pole, at 90° north latitude, isn’t etymologically tied to "north" but carries a reputation for danger and mystery due to its harsh, remote nature. Culturally, north often symbolizes the unknown, as in Norse myths, which might tie into perceptions of it being "deadly," though that’s not linguistic.
Summary: "North" originates from Proto-Indo-European *ner-*, meaning "left" or "below." The North Pole’s "deadly" vibe is cultural, not linguistic.
@frogfarmer38@eric_gugua Oh yes. You are right. Maps were actually changed. They turned the world naps upside down. Alkebulan(Africa) was at the TOP, but the western people changed it to put themselves at the top. Making South turn to North and that is why the earth is fighting humanity. We need a reset.
@eric_gugua The Bible have answer for that
Jeremiah 1:14 And the Lord said to me: "From the north, an evil will spread over all the inhabitants of the earth.
North is location of evil prophetically
@O_J_OKOLIE@eric_gugua Even the people of Catalonia ( the people of southern Spain) are tired of northern Spaniards and their oppression. That's why they want their own nation.
We saw the assailants, what they looked like, the language they spoke how they prayed to the god they prayed to. We also know that their kind occupy many of the villages around that were razed before now.
It is said that when people are pushed to the wall, they will push back, not out of bravery, but out of necessity. I fear what will happen now that we are at the edge of that point. Survival is not cowardice. It is instinct. But how long do you stay law-abiding while the law does not see your blood as worth avenging?
How long do you bow to a system that rewards those who live outside it?
First it was Jos, now christened “Jos crisis”, then Riyom, Barkin Ladi, Bassa, Mangu, Wase, Kanam. Everywhere on the Plateau is getting a taste of the 21st-century jihad. I hear that there are people who gain from the fire. People who watch it from high windows and sip their tea. People who call for peace but fund the bullets. And then, there are people like me, Uren, who only ever wanted to farm, to live and to love my land.
Toh!
The invaders have awakened something dangerous, not just pain, but memory.
And memory, when soaked in blood, never forgets. 💔💔
The smell around was of damp and death. We squeezed in, my siblings and I, while my parents and one of my brothers covered the hole with dry leaves and grass. They stayed outside. There was no room for all of us. From that tiny breath-hole, I watched.
The men on bikes came. Five of them. Guns slung carelessly like tools of a craft they had effortlessly mastered. But they chose to use knives instead. Long, rusted, personal. They circled my parents and brother like wolves around a tired prey. They chanted a God is great prayer to a God they no longer feared. And then, they cut wherever their razors could reach. Blood.
My father begged, his voice cracking like old wood. My mother shrieked as they cut, and then they cut and struck my brother down with the butt of a gun.