There was a man who ran a printing press on Association Avenue Ilupeju for twenty three years.
Small shop. One industrial machine. The smell of ink so deep in the walls it had become part of the building. He printed everything. Business cards. Wedding programs. Church bulletins. The kind of work nobody thinks about until they need it urgently.
His name was Mr. Femi.
I found him in 2015 through desperation. Five hundred branded folders by Monday morning. It was Friday at 4pm. Every other printer laughed or didn't pick up. Someone gave me a number. The number led to Association Avenue. Association Avenue led to a man covered in ink stains who looked at my order and said come back Sunday evening.
I said are you sure.
He said young man I have never missed a deadline in twenty years.
Everything was ready Sunday at 6pm. Perfectly stacked. Wrapped. Done.
I became a regular after that.
He remembered every client. Not just names. Context. Asked about the events the flyers were for. Asked how they went afterward. Something about him went beyond printing. He made you feel like your small order mattered to the full size of him.
He had a son. Tunde. Quiet boy. Methodical. Had his father's hands.
Mr. Femi talked about Tunde the way men talk about their greatest project. Engineering. Two years of fees already saved. Never gave him a reason to worry.
I believed it watching that boy work.
I relocated to Port Harcourt in 2018. New city. Functional printers who did the job without conversation. Four years passed.
Back in Lagos in 2022 I drove to Ilupeju on instinct.
The shop was still there. But smaller somehow. Mr. Femi behind the counter moving slower. Aged in the way that means the years had not been gentle.
He said my name before I reached the counter. Named the company I worked for in 2015.
Seven years. Still in him.
He called Tunde. The boy was twenty three now. Taller. Same energy but adult. He looked at my order and asked the right questions immediately. Paper weight. Finish. Binding. He knew the work completely.
While paying I asked Mr. Femi how he was really doing.
He sat down and told me.
His wife died in 2020. Lockdown. Couldn't reach the hospital fast enough. The shop nearly closed. Three months sitting inside without turning the machine on.
Tunde turned it back on.
Came in one morning without a word. Started a job left unfinished. Made his father get up and show him how to complete it correctly. The boy knew he needed a reason to stand more than he needed sympathy.
Tunde never went to study engineering.
Stayed instead. Learned everything. Brought digital design alongside the printing. Revenue grew in ways the old machine alone never could.
Mr. Femi said he argued with the boy for a year. Said he deserved more than ink and paper.
Tunde told him ink and paper had sent him to school his whole life and he saw nothing small about returning the favor.
Mr. Femi's eyes did something when he told me that.
What eyes do when pride and grief arrive together and the face doesn't have enough room for both.
Tunde walked me to my car. I told him what his father said. About the machine. About the engineering.
He was quiet. Then said his father had spent his whole life showing up for people. The least a son could do was show up when it was his turn.
I drove back slowly.
The most important things we print in this life are never on paper.
They are on people.
And they last much longer than any deadline.
A Nigerian woman was able to reverse different stages of cancer with foods
She also use food to reverse her daughter's autism
In this video, she extensively explained what she eat and how to make them.
Kindly share this, it might save someone's life
Between a Nigerian soldier at a checkpoint and a man who was passing by, wey para dey him body, but the soldier calmed him down with Fearless drink😭😂🤣♥️
Abeg, don’t let glaucoma steal your eyesight. Don’t ignore the signs.
These are early signs you must NEVER ignore unless you want to lose your sight permanently.
2. "Your mood becomes the mood of the home."
My father explained that a woman naturally tunes into the emotional state of her man. If you come home agitated, she will become anxious. If you are withdrawn, she will feel rejected. If you are at peace, she will settle into calm. Your internal state sets the temperature for everyone else.
This is not her fault. It is how women are wired. They absorb the emotional atmosphere. Your job is not to blame her for reacting to you. Your job is to manage yourself so well that your presence becomes a source of peace, not a source of stress.
1. "Love is the decoration. Respect is the structure."
He told me that every marriage has seasons. Some seasons are full of warmth and connection. Other seasons are cold and difficult. The couples who make it through the cold seasons are not the ones who love each other more. They are the ones who respect each other enough to stay.
Love can fade and return. It can waver and strengthen. But respect, once lost, rarely returns. Guard her respect for you with everything you have. Earn it daily through your actions, your integrity, your consistency. And give her the same. Respect her mind, her feelings, her perspective, even when you disagree. Without that foundation, the house cannot stand.
OPay has been upgraded to National Status by the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) what does this really mean?
• OPay can now open physical offices across all states in Nigeria
• It means they’ve met the ₦5 billion capital requirement set by the CBN
• You can now use OPay as a salary account
• Their bank statement is now acceptable for visa/travel purposes
But…
• They still won’t accept cash deposits at offices
• No cheque services
• They’re not the same as traditional commercial banks yet (Wema, Sterling, Zenith, First Bank, etc.)
Also, this upgrade didn’t happen to OPay alone. PalmPay, Kuda, Moniepoint and other fintechs were upgraded too.
Traditional banks are about to face serious competition this year.
What do you think fintech or traditional banks?
The realest, most honest advice I've heard in recent times. May God richly bless this young journalist.
Imagine telling the whole country to fast 100 days for peace to happen.
This "so called" men of God must really think everyone is d^ft.
These Ilorin house agents are pure thieves, subhanallah. Ole, barawo banza, danuwa, magiya, ofon, ole oshi
So imagine this, an agent showed my friend a very fine house and told her the total package was ₦350k. She paid in full and was meant to move in today.
When we got there, he shockingly took us to a completely different house. We asked him about the original house he showed her, and he casually said someone else had taken it because my friend didn’t come for the key early enough.
We calmly asked for a refund, but he refused and insisted we must take the new place. That’s when it turned into an argument, and thankfully, people around were on our side.
They contacted the owner of the first house. When the man arrived, he said he gave out the house for ₦200k, not ₦350k. Worse still, the agent only gave him ₦190k and kept ₦10k as “agent fee.”
To crown it all and make matters worse, we later found out the same agent collected ₦420k from another person for that same house.
They’ve taken him to the police station sha, and he has refunded our own money.
Imagine making this kind of insane money on a house that isn’t even yours 😭. No wonder everybody is now doing house agent.
At this point, there really needs to be a proper regulatory body or a strong landlords’ association because this madness is too much.