I can cut you off and still love you, stop speaking to you but still care. I can let you go but still have your best interest at heart. If I leave u alone it's not to be bitter, it's for my own good. If I let you go, it's because I need to be happy, with or without you in my life
I haven't been on twitter today - but someone brought a few of my old tweets to my attention and I can't not address it.
14 years ago, I was 23, so I was definitely not a child. I'm not here to make excuses because I don't have anything to make excuses for. What I can't let anyone do is twist my story to fit false narratives.
In 2012, I lived and helped out at my mom's daycare while I was hustling my music. I tweeted everything that happened in my life, as we all did at the time. Kids can be mischievous. If a child did something I found funny, I tweeted about it. Kids are cute and lovable. I want to hug, kiss and cuddle them. I tweet about it. Nothing I tweeted was from perversion.
I was not famous, so maybe if I was, I would have understood that anything is open to whatever interpretation including being used falsely by a faceless mob. I've never been depraved in my life. You can retweet all the tweets in the world about me loudly crushing on people I admire/d. Or being a cheeky young woman. I wasn't trying to hide it, because I don't have anything to hide.
My team has been deleting some of my tweets because of how sensitive it is for my family. To be honest, I did not want to. I have always spoken against rape and sexual assault even before you knew I existed. It's not a costume I'm wearing, it's who I am. I've never claimed to be perfect. I've never claimed to know everything. I said stop raping women. I stand by it.
My name is Zainab. I’m 27 years old. An SS.
That is, I live with sickle cell disease.
My parents are both AS.
Oh, they They knew.
They were told.
They still married.
They said God approved it. They said love would be enough. They said faith would cover the consequences.
I am the consequence.
I was diagnosed before I was two. My childhood memories are not playgrounds or cartoons,they are; hospitals, needles, and adults whispering when they thought I couldn’t hear.
In primary school, I missed classes so often that teachers stopped asking why. Some classmates thought I was pretending. Some thought I was cursed. I learned early how to smile while feeling different.
By secondary school, the pain episodes became more frequent. I would wake up excited for school and end the day on a hospital bed. I watched my mates grow normally while my life moved in pauses, school, hospital, recovery, repeat.
At 15, I lost my younger brother to sickle cell.
We were both SS.
That day changed me forever.
My parents broke down in front of me — crying, apologizing, saying “We followed faith. We didn’t think…”
But the damage had already been done.
Sometimes I forgive them.
Sometimes I resent them deeply.
Both feelings live in me.
In university, I tried to be normal. I joined sickle cell advocacy groups, volunteered with awareness organizations, spoke at events, encouraged parents to test their genotype. People call me strong. They call me a warrior.
What they don’t see is me crying alone at night after another silent pain episode.
They don’t see the fear that comes with planning a future in a body that doesn’t always cooperate.
And Relationships?
That’s another wound.
I’ve been loved… briefly.
The moment conversations turn serious about marriage, children, commitment….they leave. Some are honest. Some ghost me. Some promise forever and disappear quietly.
One man once said he would do anything for me. He talked about taking me abroad, better care, a life without fear. I believed him. For the first time, my heart rested.
Then one day, he stopped calling.
That heartbreak triggered one of the worst crises I’ve had as an adult. Not because of physical stress but because hope collapsed.
Now I’m older. The pain episodes come differently. Less dramatic, but more exhausting. My body recovers slower. My fears are heavier. I ask myself questions my parents never asked each other.
I am strong, yes.
But I am tired.
If you are AS and the person you love is AS, please love your unborn children enough to stop and think. Faith is not a license to ignore knowledge. I am a proof to that
I didn’t ask to be a lesson.
But if my life can prevent another child from being born into avoidable pain, then my voice matters.
That’s why I’m writing this to you. Because people listens to you and this story needs to be heard. I hope that your audience share this till it reaches those who are about to walk by faith and not by sight, Sickle Cell is real!.
Adeyinka, keep rescuing lives, I love how you raise awareness and say the truth unapologetically, those who do not like you are probably those who wish they could be you. Have you met you?. Oh,I see you Queen Ade💪🏻
So I moved to a new apartment ( lodge) in 200 level, when I started making some good money from tech.
The lodge in question was a ‘big boys’ lodge (self-contain, light, gen, water, new building, etc… you know that stuff).
Of course, I met a lot of ‘big boys’ and quickly made friends with most of my neighbours. But one guy stood out among my neighbours. I heard his gist before even meeting him … not positive stuff.
People spoke about him with so much irritation, like he was a pest, a disturbance... the guy that’s always “smelling,” banging on people’s doors to charge his phone and lamp, and begging to do chores for a fee.
That got me interested. This was supposed to be a ‘big boys’ lodge, so how come someone could afford to live here (rent was around ₦200K..) but has to do chores for his neighbours for a fee?
Out of curiosity, I went to the porter and stylishly asked about this mystery guy. Unsurprisingly, the porter further buttressed the story (the porter has a ‘bad’ mouth, normal normal).
He described how poor this guy was and how he couldn’t afford a room in the lodge. I asked him, if he couldn’t afford a room in the lodge, how come he lives here?
Well, the guy rented the store … not a room, a store…so small it couldn’t even contain that student mattress. No windows, no toilet, no source of natural light, and no electricity.
It’s so stuffy you can’t stay there for 20 minutes without being covered in sweat. Because of this, the guy always had to leave the door open, including at night.
We finally met. We spoke at length. I asked for his name and my guy said I should call him MEGA 99 (Mega nine nine) , that that’s what they call him on the street. Very funny dude.
Anyways, we became friends. He’s a very happy guy… Celestial boy. He sings so well and has this very positive vibes. So I asked him to always come to my room whenever he needs to charge or needs anything at all.
Not long after, he brought multiple phones to charge, and I started ‘whining’ him that he don hammer, he don buy two phones.
Only for MEGA 99 to say the other phone belonged to his roommate. Roommate? How? Where? Inside which room?
Well, he brought someone to stay with him inside that same ‘store’ that could barely contain him and his school bag. He said the guy (roommate) was his guy from primary school; they came from the same village in Osun.
His parents (the roommate’s) could only raise the fees for the pre-degree program, no money for accommodation, no food, no clothes. So he (MEGA 99) had to show love to his guy since he had space.
Omoooo… I felt bad. There was I with a whole room to myself with almost everything. There was MEGA 99 with a cubicle, yet very generous, happy, and cracking us up with his songs and jokes.
I asked him to bring his friend over. I thought MEGA 99 was funny, but this his guy was on another level. I made rice and beans with boiled eggs that night. We ate, played PES, and dozed off at my place. We became friends, even though they were two years my junior.
The Saturday evenings that the three of us would go to ball house to watch match were always hilarious. MEGA99 and his friend are Chelsea fans ….they too dey make noise..
I left the lodge a year after but kept inviting them to my new place watch ball. The bants no be here.. lol.. they were now Akindeko boys…
We kept in touch even after I graduated and left FUTA.
They also graduated and moved on with life, while I continued building startups.
Things were very, very tough for me a few years ago, financially. Startup is tough (and very expensive). I had spent all my savings, sold my car, and a lot of other things to fund my startup and pay off debts failed iPhone importation business.
Then one random afternoon, MEGA 99 called from nowhere. I was happy to see his call. We started banting as usual.
At the end of the call, he said, “Bro, thank you so much for those uni days ooo. You really tried for me and my guy. I go like send you small thing to just appreciate you.”
I thought he was joking; well, until he wasn’t.
He said, “Bro, drop your account details, abeg.” I OKAYed him and we ended the call.
Sent my digits. A few seconds later, he called, “Bro, shey na dom account?”
“Dom account bawo? You wan send me dollars?”
Sent my dom account… alert received ….$1,000 from MEGA 99.
Omooooooooooo
The same guy that couldn’t afford accommodation.
The same guy that was living in a store.
The same guy that had to beg to charge his stuff.
That money was a miracle and very timely. I was dead broke.
I went to eat a proper lunch at Captain Cook across my office, entered GTB to cash out, and called my aboki to change it. Swagger restored! E mi odidi CEO.
The same guy is one of the biggest supporters of Parrot @use_parrot .. Always liking and reposting our contents..and shares ideas and feedback about the product.
Even though he doesn’t write reviews , he has sent more than 10 users our way.
See ehn, nobody can make it alone.
Most self-made stories are usually half-truths.
Friendship is a gift. A huge gift.
I’ve enjoyed solid, meaningful, and impactful friendships, and I’ve been intentional about being a blessing to my friends as well.
The number of times friends have come through for me are too many for them not to be divinely orchestrated.
Thanks for that cash, MEGA 99.
I know you are reading this post.
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I mined 108,000 Ton Station and I did paid 0.5Ton fir buying coffee. I checked my account to see zero Ton station. What could be wrong?
Kindly do every necessary things to restore my 108,000 Ton Station please
@moniepointng ..this payment was made from ur bank with session ID - 090405240117194109833914817400 & transaction num - 240117064250353970 to my Opay acc since Jan 17, 7:45pm.. pls kindly resolve for transaction
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📈 $ICE/USDT @ice_blockchain Spot Trading is now open on #OKX!
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