Dear Nigerians, January 16th presidential election date for 2027, was well thought after, and highly strategic.
(1) Many will still be in their villages, and may most likely not vote.
(My Southeastern brothers and sisters)
(2) Salaries that will be paid between 22nd, 23rd and 24th December, must have been exhausted. (Rice, 5k or 10k for vote, will be highly tempting)
(3) House rent and school fees pressure will be hitting so hard by then. (5k, 10, or 20k for vote, will be so so tempting)
Please don't sell your votes. If you know you will spend January 2027 in your village, kindly apply to transfer your polling unit to your village now that INEC's continuous voter registration exercise is still ongoing.
Please go and get your PVC, and vote
OK and the NDC ✌️
It's your shortest cut to the actualization of our dream of a new Nigeria that is possible.
Abi suffer no dey tire you?
Retweet and share.
Girl to girl: study the patterns in your family. Look at what distracted, delayed, or derailed the women before you, then make intentional decisions to break those cycles.
refuse to be a victim of generational curses ❤️
EZEKIEL ARE YOU MAD???
Why don’t you volunteer yourself to the bandits for research purposes and find out whether your wife will still be sexually attracted to you afterwards?
You asked a very foolish question and then proceeded to sit in the comments laughing and speculating about things you clearly have no understanding of.
Again, are you mad???
There are women, men and children in the den of bandits. People are being kidnapped, tortured, starved, traumatised and in some cases killed.
And the thing occupying your mind is whether victims of sexual violence will still be desirable to their partners?
Again, are you mad???
Of everything happening in society, of all the conversations to have about insecurity, your own contribution is to worry about whether women will remain “pure” and “chaste” for their partners.
Again , are you mad???
You have reduced women, children and people’s mother going through unimaginable horrors to stupid twitter engagement farming question, you are not bothered about survival, safety, recovery nor dignity.
Just whether someone else would still want them afterwards.
Again, are you mad???
He also used a face knife to cut her vaginal area to simulate him being her first. Please @Lagosdsva look into this matter.
Here are screenshots of his DMs to her after he raped her
From the text of the announcement by the White House, issuing of new student visas and immigrant visas (Green Cards EB1, EB2 etc ) are now suspended. Also if you have an existing valid visa, it could become unusable soon.
https://t.co/qW0AP3qDMv
This is how you do Actors on Actors. These women admire e/o work, did their hmwrk, and gave flowers 💐. This was the most beautiful and intimate A/A I have seen in a long time. It was very special and whoever put them together deserves a raise. Let them pair the Actors now on.
When i fought with my sister in school, my younger brother likes me so much, he saw that my elder sister was beating me badly. He came in and joined hands to beat her.
Our headmistress called our dad and told him.
The moment we got home, my dad wasn’t around, he came back in the evening and called us to line up outside to fight. The three of us. Omo that day we fought eeeh. He just sat down watching us fight with the koboko in his hands. My younger brother was giving my sister blow, my sister was hitting me. Lazy me I no kuku get strength, na mouth I get , my dad saw I was the lazy one who can’t fight.
This man flogged me bullshit as he was flogging me he was shouting “fight, fight, fight. Na only mouth you get.
Since that day till today I haven’t fought with anyone. That beating and fight still traumatizes me. And after the fight no one fought again in our house.
On paper it is gorgeous. Two toothbrushes in one cup. Tiny socks on the radiator. Someone whose face you know in the dark reaching for you at 3:12 and not leaving. A small person with your eyes and their laugh eating cereal too slowly before school. It sounds like the closest thing to safety we have ever invented.
But a lot of people did not grow up watching love look like that. They grew up watching marriage be a war that never declared itself out loud. 19:40 on a Tuesday, plates not quite slammed, voices just quiet enough for the neighbors not to hear. A father sleeping on the couch for three years. A mother doing the emotional admin for five people and getting a wilted bouquet once a year as a receipt. The child learns quickly that forever can be a threat as easily as it is a promise.
You say mini mes. A lot of people hear smaller witnesses. Witnesses to debt. To screaming in the car park. To one parent disappearing for six months and calling it adjusting. Some bodies carry the memory of being the kid who held the camera and took the Christmas photo where nobody spoke to each other for two days after. They do not crave that house. They crave never putting anyone through it.
There is another layer no one likes talking about because it sounds too practical for a sacred topic. Mortgage rates that bite. Groceries that feel like a test. Friends burning out in two jobs and still wondering if they can afford a dentist, не те що дитину. Bodies that already wake tired. The idea of bringing in a small, breakable person is not just cute to them. It is a spreadsheet with red numbers and a nervous system that shakes.
And then there are the ones who were never told they were allowed to want something for themselves first. To them, choosing no partner and no kids for now is not selfishness. It is the first act of self parenting. It is finally learning to feed the part of them that was always the one doing the caretaking. They are not missing the desire. Sometimes they are surgically removing the compulsion put in them by a culture that treated women as wombs and men as wallets.
Some people hear spouse and feel warmth. Others hear spouse and feel a hand closing over their life. Some people look at a child and feel their chest widen. Others look at their own sleep schedule, their own untreated trauma, their own rage in traffic and think not yet, not like this. That is not nihilism. That is responsibility. The bravest thing some people will ever do is break the chain by not adding another link.
Marriage and children can be the most beautiful thing. They can also be the most efficient way to hide from yourself. It is easy to call it forever if you have never sat with your own loneliness without a witness. It is easy to say mini me if you have not yet met the parts of you that should not be replicated without serious editing. Many people want to arrive to that altar and that nursery with less unprocessed violence in their hands. That takes time. That looks from the outside like drifting.
If you are lucky enough to want it and still be soft when you picture it, hold that gently. Do not turn your hunger into a ruler you hit others with. The world has given plenty of reasons to be afraid of binding contracts and tiny hearts. Climate, war, courts, childhood bedrooms where love was conditional on performance. Not everyone has healed enough to gamble a child on their hope.
Ask people what they want under all the noise. Some will say a partner and kids. Some will say a room, a dog, three good friends and work that feels honest. Some will say I do not know yet, I was never given space to ask. The distance is not as far as it looks. Everyone is hunting the same thing under different packaging. A place where their nervous system can stop scanning the door. A hand that stays. A tomorrow that is not a threat.
You can stand in your dream of spouse and children without needing the whole planet to agree.
They have been on the streets on Sunday October 26, Monday October 27, Tuesday October 28.
Three days.
Three days of bloodshed.
Three days of bravery.
May these deaths and fearlessness never be in vain. May God rest the dead. May He protect the brave. May he free us from the shackles of our oppressors.
Today Douala, Bafoussam, Batouri, Bertoua, Yaoundé, Meiganga, Maroua stood. ✊🏿
#FreeCameroon
Do you know what's more painful about Ochanya's predicament?
She was doing so well in the village school. She said she wanted to be a medical doctor when she grows up.
Winifred's mum returned to the village one Christmas.
Decided to take Ochanya to the City to get good education since she was sound and intelligent.
And that was the end of her dreams, her ambition, and her life.
Winifred's dad and brother raped her for five years till she d!ed.
Guess what!
The rapists children are doing so well in life.
Winifred is now a lawyer and a social media influencer.
Victor is doing so well in his musical career, and he's about to release a track.
Ihotu, the rapist's last born who was in the same class with Ochanya just got admission to Benue State University.
Ochanya would have been 20years now, and probably in her 100level studying her dream course, Medicine and Surgery in Benue State University.
But she was used as the sacrificial lamb.
Can I tell you something?
Ochanya has come back to demand for justice.
This time around, with you, I and millions of Nigerians solidly behind her shouting for justice.
This time around, we will not allow the case to be swept under the carpet like it was in 2018.
Until justice prevails, we remain Ochanya's voice.
Remember, silence in the face of injustice is INJUSTICE—and evil.
#JusticeforOchanya