Daddy Iman

Loving Father,Husband...and everything in-between(?).Knowledge seeker. Lover of Life...way past mid life crisis.
Did I say...Arsenal and Accountant?.
FCA.

[Yemi King @TheYemiKing]

One of the most fascinating events that happened in Nigeria last month was the arrest of a mother who crossed into a dark, unforgiving abyss of desperation.

Meet Mrs. Iyabo Sowunmi, a woman whose fading footsteps echoed through the grim corridors of the Ibara Custodial Centre in Abeokuta.

She carried a heavy, unspoken terror beneath a mask of maternal grief as she went to visit her son, Dare, an inmate trapped in the bleak shadow of death row.

Clutching a packet of Milo, she moved like a ghost through the gates, relying on the ultimate disguise: a mother’s love.

As the midday heat pressed down on that fateful Friday, the air grew suddenly cold at the final security checkpoint. Eagle-eyed guards, immune to tears, felt the unnatural weight of the beverage pack and sliced it open, expecting nothing and finding a nightmare.

There, bleeding out into the light, was not cocoa, but the chemical poison of "Colos", a potent synthetic drug meant to breach the prison walls. In a terrifying flash, the trap snapped shut, and the mother was instantly shackled, swallowed by the same system holding her son.

This horrific betrayal at the prison gates exposes a rot that bleeds far beyond the walls of Ibara.

We are watching a nation quietly self-destruct as drug addiction ceases to be a fringe vice and becomes horrifying new normal, touching every corner of society.

The poison has spread everywhere, fueling the bloodlust of terrorists in the northeast, driving the madness of bandits terrorizing the highways, and quietly paralyzing the minds of everyday artisans and elite white-collar workers in high-rise offices.

When even mothers become drug couriers for the damned, it signals a systemic collapse of our moral fabric.

Nigeria is teetering on the edge of a bottomless pit, driven by a chemically induced madness that spares no profession, class, or age.

If this addiction is allowed to consume every layer of our society, the country itself will inevitably break and end under the crushing weight of its own dependency.

We are running out of time before the fabric of our nation dissolves completely.

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@TheYemiKing Happy birthday 65th birthday... 🎂 😀

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@iamClozz3r 😄

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

"Good day
Can you help me get receipt for transaction of N24,750 done on 6/4/2026 from Access Bank using Paystack Checkout 9980963117 being payment for PTA_KINGSCOLLEGE.
Thank you."
@PaystackSupport ,I'd sent this message over 4hrs to your DM,pls respond.
@cenbank
@fccpcnigeria

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@PaystackSupport Good day guys, I need your support to retrieve a receipt for a transaction I did on April 6,2026 using a Paystack Checkout 9980963117 from Access Bank.

[John Oyesile, mPSN. MRCPharm. @OyesileJohn]

1. After 2 consecutive days of being absent in school, my teacher came by our house to ask why I haven't been coming. My mum said she had no money to buy 2D exercise book the school had insisted I bring back to school. Mr. Jimoh (God bless his memories), told my mum to make sure she did everything possible to making sure I return to school. Later that evening, she told me to get our basket and cutlass and we headed to the farm. I didn't know what prayers she made but while working around heaps of corns, she found 3 big snails. The next day, we took canoe to the Oke-Odo where she sold the snails at the market, bought my 2D exercise book and I returned to school the day after.
This happened in a little village called Gbadesogun in Osun state
This was around 1987. Tinubu was not the president and the APC was not a party.

2. Year 3 going 4 in the pharmacy school, Idi-araba, Lagos state, the federal government endowment scholarship didn't come early and I had no money for school fees. Things were tight for my guidance. But for the kind heart of one of my classmates who provided me with the money (less than 20k), I probably would have dropped out.

Tinubu was not the president and APC was not the party.

3. In 400l, at some point, I needed to convert going daily without food to 7 days fasting and prayers. I worked after school to make stipend to feed. I once got told off by a friend because I took part of his spaghetti.

Tinubu was not the president. APC was not the party.

If there was NELFUND, I might have had it easier. I can vividly relate with your stories. Don't worry, the same passion and hunger will get you into a greater place. Keep moving.

God bless you.
God bless Nigeria.

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@ClassicFM973 Temisan!!!
What a loss.

May God grant your soul repose, and your family the fortitude to bear this.

Rest on, soldier for change.

[Elnathan John @elnathan_john]

I have been a full time writer for nearly 14 years. And it is still a challenge accepting that being a writer sometimes means just sitting and thinking. That I am not lazy because my process requires just being by myself and doing nothing "productive". And I wish that there was more institutional support for writers who need time and resources to just think and write, who don't require writers to kneel and beg.

If we want a world where thinking and storytelling survive, in spite of technological advances that make producing writing easier, it is up to us to create systems that can support people to think, really think and tell stories that mean something in the world, to create and support institutions that provide the space for that work.

[BSAT Properties @BSAT_Properties]

Today, something happened in our theatre that I still don't know how to explain

It was 2:17am.

Postnatal ward.

The kind of silence that feels unnatural… like the air itself is holding its breath.

She had delivered just three hours earlier.

First baby.
After 14 hours of labour.
The quiet type. Always saying "sorry" even when contractions were breaking her in half.

When we placed her baby on her chest, she cried and whispered,

"Thank You, God."

Her husband kissed her forehead.

"Sleep. I’ll watch our baby."

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

She suddenly sat up.

Her hand flew to her chest.

Her eyes widened.

"I… can’t… breathe…"

Before we could even move

Her body went stiff.

Her lips turned pale.

The monitor exploded.

BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEEEEEEEEP.

Flatline.

Cardiac ãrrést.

Joy evaporated.

The same room that heard a newborn cry hours ago now heard nurses shouting,

"Call the doctor!"
"Start CPR!"
"Bring the crash cart!"

Her husband was pushed outside.

"Please! What’s happening?!" he screamed.

CPR started immediately.
Oxygen. Adrenaline. Defibrillator.

"Clear!"

Her body jerked.

No pulse.

Again.

"Clear!"

Nothing.

Her husband was outside crying,
"Please save my wife"

Thirty minutes later, the consultant looked at the clock.

His voice was heavy.

"Time of déãth…"

The room broke.

A nurse sobbed.
Another turned to the wall.

We had handed her her baby hours ago.

How does joy turn into this?

Her husband fell to the floor holding the newborn.

"Wake up… please… you promised we’d raise him together…"

She was covered gently.
Machines switched off.

The room went silent.

The kind of silence that feels heavy on your chest.

Cold.

Final.

As we prepared to move her body

The monitor made a sound.

One small beep.

We froze.

Another beep.

The doctor spun around.

"Turn everything back on!"

"Check pulse!"

We held our breath.

There it was.

Weak.

Faint.

But there.

"She has a pulse!"

Chaos returned.

Everything started again.

Oxygen. IV fluids. Monitoring.

Then her chest rose.

On its own.

Slowly.

She coughed.

The woman declared déãd minutes ago…

Was breathing.

Her husband was called in.

Tears rolled down her face as she whispered,

"My baby…"

At that exact moment, the baby cried.

Loud. Strong. Alive.

Nobody in that room held back tears.

Today taught us:

Life can slip away in seconds.
Joy can turn into mourning without warning.

But sometimes…

When medicine reaches its limit…

Mercy steps in.

And just when the story seems finished

Heaven writes another chapter.

And this one?

Was a miracle.

© Preshcute utonwa

[Taiwo Oyedele @taiwoyedele]

If you have NIN you can retrieve your Tax ID in minutes. For your business Tax ID, use the CAC registration number.

Watch this video for the simplified process.

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@iamClozz3r 🙏

[Elnathan John @elnathan_john]

Hollywood’s nakedness was too blunt, too flesh-forward, too uninterested in apology. Nigerian audiences in the South might tolerate or titillate over it, but in the North, it produced unease. Bollywood, by contrast, seemed to understand the North without having ever visited. Its lovers rarely kissed, but their longing was unmistakable. The camera lingered on hands without letting them consummate. On glances that trembled but did not trespass. On cheeks paused inches apart in rain. On bodies that wanted each other with the ferocity of hunger but were forced to sublimate that hunger into choreography.
Desire was translated into song, into spinning fabric, into wrists that never quite closed.
Nothing “improper” happened—and yet everything did.
For a conservative region suspicious of Western sexual directness but ravenous for romance all the same, Bollywood was the perfect tutor: a cinema where modesty and melodrama shared the same bed without admitting that they were lovers. Northern Nigeria recognized itself instantly in that grammar.
https://t.co/kMj9TlK3DL

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@LegacySiu Ozil.

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@temiokomi You on the Regulate!!!

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@temiokomi Perfect rendition of that Biggies' tune at the Karaoke.
Who's that OG dueting you on the track?, he's 🔥
👏👏👏
Nice to see you, good one.

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@temiokomi Of course, I am.
This is my home turf.

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@TheYemiKing Ha!

[Daddy Iman @eduazeez]

@iamClozz3r 😂

[ICAN @ICAN_NGR]

Dear students, as you prepare for your ICAN exams, here are some last-minute tips for success: stay focused, review key concepts, and believe in the effort you’ve put in. The finish line is near—keep pushing! 📚✨

[ICAN @ICAN_NGR]

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