PiPi weChele @Prec_Mwe15 - Twitter Profile

@KingKandoro @thaslickpastor King munoziva here kuti munogona kukwikwidza mucategory yebest dressed kana iriko kuNAMA? The show was EPIC!! @thaslickpastor we are patiently waiting for your own show...you promised🙏

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PiPi weChele @Prec_Mwe15

4 months ago

@Her_Nonymous_D Also, you cannot curse what God has already blessed. This reminds me of Numbers 22-24.

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Prec_Mwe15 retweeted

Sadam🪐

@ArcSadam

4 months ago

“At the age of 52, I am finally holding my own twin boys in my arms. For 18 years, people called me an “Empty House,” but look at me now. I watched my younger sisters get married, carry their babies, and even bring those children to my house to eat my food. My husband’s family started whispering behind my back. They told him to find a “fertile woman” because, at age 50, they said I was “useless” and that my womb was a “dry well.” After nearly two decades of marriage, the silence in our home became heavier than a mountain. Every month, I would cry behind the kitchen door until my wrapper was soaked with tears, wondering if God had forgotten my address. Last year, I almost gave up. I told my husband to let me go back to my father’s house so he could marry someone else. But he held my hand and said, “Nneka, let us wait for God’s time.” But God is not a man. At age 51, when the world said it was medically impossible and the neighbors had finished laughing, I conceived. And yesterday, at age 52, the “Empty House” finally became a home. I gave birth to a beautiful set of twin boys. I am sharing this because I know someone reading this feels like their time has passed. You feel like the world is mocking your delay. But I am living proof: if God can remember me at 52 and give me double for my trouble, He can turn your “nothing” into a great celebration.

ArcSadam's tweet photo. “At the age of 52, I am finally holding my own twin boys in my arms. For 18 years, people called me an “Empty House,” but look at me now.

I watched my younger sisters get married, carry their babies, and even bring those children to my house to eat my food. My husband’s family started whispering behind my back. They told him to find a “fertile woman” because, at age 50, they said I was “useless” and that my womb was a “dry well.”

After nearly two decades of marriage, the silence in our home became heavier than a mountain. Every month, I would cry behind the kitchen door until my wrapper was soaked with tears, wondering if God had forgotten my address.
Last year, I almost gave up. I told my husband to let me go back to my father’s house so he could marry someone else. But he held my hand and said, “Nneka, let us wait for God’s time.”
But God is not a man.

At age 51, when the world said it was medically impossible and the neighbors had finished laughing, I conceived. And yesterday, at age 52, the “Empty House” finally became a home. I gave birth to a beautiful set of twin boys.

I am sharing this because I know someone reading this feels like their time has passed. You feel like the world is mocking your delay.
But I am living proof:

if God can remember me at 52 and give me double for my trouble, He can turn your “nothing” into a great celebration.

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Prec_Mwe15 retweeted

The Husky

@Mr_Husky1

4 months ago

At the age of 5, I started being molest3d by the 18 year old son, of my babysitter. The abuse happened at their home. He groomed me to feel like it was normal behavior, and that he did it to me because he "loved me.” I believed him for so long, until it started to hurt. He even brought his friends to join in. Over the years, he did unspeakable things, and threatened to kill me if I spoke up. He told me it was my fault, and that nobody would believe me, that I was gay, and that everyone would hate me. His family were devout Christians, and he made it perfectly clear that when I died, only I would go to hell because I made him want me. I felt trapped. I was his defenseless slave. When I was 9, my baby sister was born. My abuser found out that his aunt would be watching her. He told me not to worry, that "when she starts coming around, I won't need you anymore." The sickening feelings of helplessness tormented me. I didn't sleep and I stopped eating. On my 10th birthday, I was encouraged to tell by watching the "Sally Jessie Raphael" talk show. The episode was about child sexual abuse, and Sally looked at the camera and said "If you’re watching this, and are going through it, please tell. Its not your fault, you must speak up." I felt like she was talking directly to ME. I walked into my baby sister's room, looked down in her crib, and with innocent eyes she smiled up at me. I knew I had to protect her! Suddenly he wasn't so big and scary anymore (he was 6'4 270 lbs). I pulled my grandmother into the bathroom, and told her everything. Thankfully she believed me, and later he crumbled under interrogation and was locked away for a very long time. My story is complex. Drugs and alcohol became my way of coping for so long, but now after a year sober, I'm finally starting the healing process. I’m baffled at how little the adults in my life looked out for me, and that he was allowed to be alone and have sleep-overs with a 5 year old child. In hindsight, it's infuriating. I would never allow this to happen to my children. In retrospect, I don't think I would change what happened in my life if given the chance, because it's made me such a compassionate person as well as a protective, understanding parent. I'm sharing my story for everyone who is a victim, but especially for all the boys who are now men, who haven't spoken yet. I humbly pray that I can inspire someone to speak up, because I know how horrifying it can be in a very toxic masculine society, which discourages making oneself vulnerable. I firmly believe as a man, the most badass thing you can do is speak up. You're not weak! Credit - tell somebody

Mr_Husky1's tweet photo. At the age of 5, I started being molest3d by the 18 year old son, of my babysitter. The abuse happened at their home.
He groomed me to feel like it was normal behavior, and that he did it to me because he "loved me.” I believed him for so long, until it started to hurt. He even brought his friends to join in. Over the years, he did unspeakable things, and threatened to kill me if I spoke up. He told me it was my fault, and that nobody would believe me, that I was gay, and that everyone would hate me. His family were devout Christians, and he made it perfectly clear that when I died, only I would go to hell because I made him want me. I felt trapped. I was his defenseless slave. When I was 9, my baby sister was born. My abuser found out that his aunt would be watching her. He told me not to worry, that "when she starts coming around, I won't need you anymore." The sickening feelings of helplessness tormented me. I didn't sleep and I stopped eating. On my 10th birthday, I was encouraged to tell by watching the "Sally Jessie Raphael" talk show. The episode was about child sexual abuse, and Sally looked at the camera and said "If you’re watching this, and are going through it, please tell. Its not your fault, you must speak up." I felt like she was talking directly to ME.
I walked into my baby sister's room, looked down in her crib, and with innocent eyes she smiled up at me. I knew I had to protect her! Suddenly he wasn't so big and scary anymore (he was 6'4 270 lbs). I pulled my grandmother into the bathroom, and told her everything. Thankfully she believed me, and later he crumbled under interrogation and was locked away for a very long time. My story is complex. Drugs and alcohol became my way of coping for so long, but now after a year sober, I'm finally starting the healing process. I’m baffled at how little the adults in my life looked out for me, and that he was allowed to be alone and have sleep-overs with a 5 year old child. In hindsight, it's infuriating. I would never allow this to happen to my children. In retrospect, I don't think I would change what happened in my life if given the chance, because it's made me such a compassionate person as well as a protective, understanding parent. I'm sharing my story for everyone who is a victim, but especially for all the boys who are now men, who haven't spoken yet. I humbly pray that I can inspire someone to speak up, because I know how horrifying it can be in a very toxic masculine society, which discourages making oneself vulnerable. I firmly believe as a man, the most badass thing you can do is speak up. You're not weak!

Credit - tell somebody

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PiPi weChele @Prec_Mwe15

5 months ago

@_Land_L0rd_ @CrimeWatchZW 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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PiPi weChele @Prec_Mwe15

5 months ago

@KudzayiNigel Beautiful family sir!

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PiPi weChele @Prec_Mwe15

5 months ago

@Ichie_3clans @MichelleMaxwell #3 very important 🙏🙏

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Prec_Mwe15 retweeted

Man’s NOT Barry Roux

@AdvoBarryRoux

5 months ago

If this appears on your TL, Kindly Repost! Surely someone out knows these criminals. The lady was even confused as to what she wanted. This eHailing driver died, for what? For what hle? Koloi? Phone? Money? Life was taken in Pretoria West. We need to find these criminals.