It’s Men’s Mental Health Month. Many men struggle with stress, anxiety, depression, loneliness, and emotional challenges in silence because they feel pressured to “be strong” all the time Real strength includes asking for help, talking about your feelings, and taking care of your mental well-being. Let’s create a world where men feel safe discussing their mental health without fear of judgment
Check on your brothers, fathers, sons, friends, and colleagues. One conversation could change a life. 💙
Growing up, I used to believe an orange tree would grow inside my stomach if I swallowed an orange seed. 😭
So imagine my horror when I accidentally swallowed one in school.😧
I tried to cough it back up.
Ohh I really tried....but it was too late. 😭
I don't think I've ever cried that much in my life.
Nobody could console me.
I even refused to drink water because I was scared it would make the seed germinate faster. 😭
Then my stomach started grumbling.
At that point, I really thought the tree was already growing.
I started another round of tears again.😭
They eventually calmed me down by telling me it takes more than one seed to grow the tree. 😭
Children really believe anything.🤦🏽♀️
What's the most ridiculous thing you believed as a child?
I helped my neighbour's daughter with her assignment and later overheard her telling her friend that I don't “know book”.
How?? 😳
A Primary 4 assignment shouldn't be that hard.
I can still handle that level na.🙂↔️
I checked the assignment book and saw that five of her answers were marked wrong.
I was confused.
Because she actually got them right.
I tried explaining this to them.
I even asked Google and AI in their presence to confirm that the answers were correct.
But those children just kept looking at me like I'm only trying to make excuses for myself.
I give up.🤦🏽♀️
There was a woman in our street back then who used to collect betting codes from mad people.
She used to sell food, but her side hustle was Baba Ijebu.😹
She played it to the point that mad people started writing numbers for her.
In her words "they give the best numbers".
So anytime a mad person passed by her shop, she'd stop them, hand them a biro and paper, and ask them to write numbers for her.
In return, she would give them food.
She even had a favourite.
You would always see him sitting around her shop.
Then one day, I think she got too comfortable that she allowed one of them into her shop.
Well...
I wasn't there, but I heard she was beaten black and blue.