Back in Ayétòrò, I was told about a man whose house was in a developing neighborhood. His house had a short fence and no gate. Coming home one day, he saw a man step out of his compound, mount a bike and ride off in the distance. He quickened his steps to catch him but couldn't.
When he got inside, his wife had just finished bathing. She was unusually cheerful, smiling, and the room smelled nicer than usual. He asked who the man that just left was. She said, "Which man?"
That set him off. "The man that just left this compound. Tell me who he is." She insisted no one had left the house. He slapped her hard. The fight escalated until family members had to step in to settle it. Both sides held their ground on what they believed happened. The families eventually calmed things down and the couple stayed together, but the marriage was never quite the same after that.
A few months later, he saw the same man leaving his compound again. This time he ran and caught up with him, ready for a confrontation. That's when he found out the man was a NEPA bill distributor, going door to door hanging neatly folded electricity bills by people's meters. His wife, it turned out, hadn't even been home that day. She was at the market. He finally understood the man had nothing to do with her.
It took him days to work up the courage to tell his wife the truth. She packed her things and left the next day. He went to her parents' house to beg for forgiveness. They warned him plainly that if he ever raised his hand to their daughter again, it would be the last thing he did. But they also told her to forgive him and not let herself become an ilémoṣú over something that could still be resolved.
Sometimes what looks like evidence is just a coincidence wearing evidence's clothes. You can see it with your two eyes and still make a wrong conclusion.
Most celebs in Naija now whinning citizens to send them their account details in comment sections under their unserious posts. How I wish we could lay our hands on you..
Driving through Iyana ipaja road now and fighting back tears
The last time I was here, I was in my faded trousers and torn shoes, trekking from school to school, begging them to employ me as their chess coach.
Life is a mystery indeed and sometimes,faith is the only map we have.