$BANK is revolutionising sports capital markets by turning pro poker bankrolls into liquid on-chain exposure.
Find out what $BANK is, how the flywheel works and why it’s built different.
@theluddi will break it ALL down LIVE TODAY with at 11AM EST.
See you on stream!
If dem ever ask me the exact moment I knew I wasn’t ready for soft life, it was the first time I entered plane to Abuja.
That flight humbled me. Mentally, physically, and gastrointestinally.
I got to the airport fresh. I even use tie. Shades: check. Neck pillow wey I borrow o. Steeze: heavy.
First they say make we proceed to boarding gate o, naso I face entrance door😭.
I even asked the security man, his name na Dami Dami, I said I was looking for “Door 2”. They guy just dey look me.
I managed to get to the gate
Wahala was already warming up on the runway.
I entered the plane, to put bag for up, my hand no reach. Who I wan call like this 😭. Somebody sha helped me. I sat by the window, before I even see my seat sef😭. A fine babe sat beside me, and I adjusted well. I was already imagining our love story starting at 30,000 feets🌚
Then, seatbelt wahala started.
The way I fought that thing, e be like I was trying to defuse b0mb, weda dey swear for the belt o. I clip am, e unclip. I shift am, e jam. I finally just pressed it together with small violence. The babe looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, pretending like I wasn’t sweating under my shirt. That girl go don enter plane reach 897 times.
Then the plane started moving. Slowly at first.
I was like, “E easy na.”
Then speed entered.
Omo.
I didn’t know when I screamed softly, “Ah!” 😭
My back jammed the seat. My aboki glass fell. My neck pillow nearly fly go back patapata.
And just when I thought I was recovering...
Stomach say it’s time.
I don’t know if it was the airport meat pie or spiritual consequences, but something in my belly started misbehaving.
I tried to hold it like a strong man. You know that tight-butt-cheek posture when your soul is fighting your intestines?
I crossed my legs. Uncrossed. Sat up. Leaned back. Nothing worked. Sweat dey my forehead like say dem plug me near stove.
And then it happened.
Just as the plane lifted for takeoff, one tiny fart escaped me.
Ptwwww.
Not loud. But powerful. 😭
It floated in the air like silent judgment.
I saw the babe beside me pause... then slowly turned her head and covered her nose.
That’s when I knew…
I had messed up. Literally.
Shame hold me like police.
I pretended to be confused too. I even fanned my nose small like, “Ah, what’s that smell?” But that girl know say na me mess 😂
The aircraft knew. God knew. Even the pilot in front probably felt it. 💀
I wanted to ask where the toilet was, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to stand up and expose myself.
So I sat there.
Suffering.
In silence.
Holding everything together with the help of my belt and pride.
The whole flight, I no chop, I no drink, I no even breathe deep. Anytime air hostess pass, I just smiled like person wey no dey experience inner destruction.
When we landed, I stood up like a pensioner. Legs shaking, stomach still bubbling.
As I walked out, I heard the babe whisper, “Thank God it was short.”
I don’t know if she meant the flight or the smell. I just kept walking.
I no see number collect. I even happy
If you are sitting for ICAN Nov 2025 diet exams, and you can see this post, repost the QUOTED POST for visibility. Even if you are not sitting for ICAN exams, please repost.
ICAN needs to give us an answer before this week runs out.