They've started kidnapping people in ogun state o!!!!!!
They've infiltrated ogun state properly, and nobody is saying anything.
Schools are not opening in imagbon close to Isara Remo ogun state cause of bandits, They've entered ogun state.
Why is this not making headlines💔
I used to love my wife because she earned it.
When she was kind, I was kind.
When she respected me, I respected her.
When she didn't—I didn't.
Marriage was a transaction.
A balance sheet.
I gave what I got.
Nothing more.
Then one Sunday our pastor said something I couldn't shake.
"The way you treat your wife is the way you treat the Lord."
I thought he was being poetic.
He wasn't.
That night I looked at my wife.
Really looked.
She was exhausted.
The kids had been brutal.
The house was chaos.
And I was keeping score.
Waiting for her to earn my kindness.
That's when it hit me:
I wasn't loving a woman.
I was worshiping myself.
Every act of service I withheld was worship I stole from God.
Every cold shoulder was an altar to my ego.
Every "she started it" was a prayer to my own righteousness.
Marriage isn't a contract between two people.
It's an offering to the One who made them.
I started loving her differently.
Not because she deserved it.
Because He does.
I served her when she didn't thank me.
I pursued her when she pulled away.
I led when I didn't feel like leading.
Not for applause.
For an audience of One.
She noticed.
Not right away.
But one night she said:
"You're different. What happened?"
I told her the truth.
"I stopped loving you to get something back."
"I started loving you to give something up."
She didn't understand at first.
Now she does.
When you love your spouse as an act of worship
Everything shifts.
The scoreboard disappears.
The transaction ends.
And marriage becomes what it was always supposed to be.
A daily death to self.
A living sacrifice.
An act of worship disguised as a Wednesday night doing dishes.
Your spouse isn't your enemy.
They're your offering.
Treat them like one.
My wife and I almost lost our marriage to a friendship.
Not an affair.
Not another man.
Her best friend.
It started small.
A text here. A call there.
"She just gets me."
I didn't think anything of it.
Until I noticed my wife told her things she didn't tell me.
Hard days at work. Fears about the kids. Doubts about us.
Her best friend got the real her.
I got the tired version.
The leftover version.
The one who said "I'm fine" when I asked how she was.
One night I found her crying on the phone.
With her.
Not me.
I stood in the doorway.
She didn't even notice.
That's when I realized:
I wasn't losing my wife to another man.
I was losing her to a counterfeit intimacy that felt safer than me.
No risk.
No vulnerability.
No covenant weight.
Just comfort without cost.
I sat her down the next morning.
"I feel like I'm third in my own marriage."
She got defensive at first.
"She's just my friend. You're overreacting."
But then I asked:
"When's the last time you told me something before you told her?"
Silence.
She couldn't remember.
Neither could I.
We didn't fix it overnight.
But we started.
She stopped running to her phone when she was hurting.
She came to me instead.
Awkward at first.
We'd forgotten how.
Your wife doesn't need a best friend who "gets her."
She needs a husband who pursues her.
And brother…
If she's running to someone else with her heart?
Maybe it's because you stopped being safe enough to hold it.
Your spouse should know you better than anyone on earth.
If they don't, that's not their failure.
It's your invitation.
Go get your wife back.
Not from another man.
From the counterfeit comfort she's settled for.
Because you stopped showing up.
A marriage counselor once told my wife the problem was “communication.”
$200 an hour.
12 sessions.
She learned to “use I statements.”
I learned to “validate her feelings.”
We were still miserable.
You know what fixed my marriage?
I stopped talking.
Started doing.
Woke up before her.
Made the coffee.
Didn’t announce it.
Handled the dishes.
Didn’t ask for credit.
Took the kids so she could rest.
Didn’t call it “babysitting.”
Three weeks.
No conversations about our problems.
No processing.
No therapy homework.
Just a man who finally acted like he gave a damn.
She didn’t say anything at first.
Then one morning she looked at me like she hadn’t looked at me in years.
Not with love.
With surprise.
She’d forgotten I could show up.
The counselor told us to talk more.
What we needed was for me to shut up and move.
Most marriages don’t die from lack of words.
They die from lack of action.
Your wife doesn’t need another conversation.
She needs to see you in the kitchen at 5 AM.
Not because she asked.
Because you finally woke up.
PREGNANCY IS NOT A PUNISHMENT: WHY FEAR MONGERING MUST END
Dear NaijjaQueen,
You are now sounding like a tickling cymbal. You are now sounding almost empty and frankly dense.
She said it plainly. And I wish you had listened. @_DebbieOA clearly said...'Pregnancy is not a death sentence.'
Yet here you are, peddling fear like cheap perfume at a street market, choking every girl who dares to dream of motherhood. And I wonder...what happened to those sweet girls? The ones whose words made you pause mid-scroll, because they felt like warm water on tired skin. The ones who could ignite cerebral orgasms with just a sentence.
Where did they go?
What we have now is a chorus of bitterness masquerading as caution, voices dripping in toxicity, warning every womb to beware. And I say this with the deepest of sighs: stop it.
Stop making pregnancy sound like a death march lined with coffins and regret. Stop weaponizing your pain and branding it as truth.
Because pregnancy, like any worthwhile journey, comes with its turbulence. And yet, we fly.
Pregnant women are like pilots. They soar, not because the skies are always clear, but because they know the destination is worth it. Sometimes there’s a bit of turbulence and shaking...yes. The clouds grumble, the plane jerks, and nausea kicks in like a protest song. But the flight doesn’t stop. It adjusts.
Sometimes, the pilot may need to land in an adjacent airport(maternity clinic)... It may even divert, seek shelter, pause at a maternity ward to catch its breath. And when necessary, it lands early...for safety.
Are there accidents? Yes.
But shall we cancel aviation because of them?
No one denies the risks. We acknowledge them...just as we acknowledge that crossing a road, falling in love, even sleeping, carries risk. But we do not live in fear. We do not drape our fears in feminism and parade them as power.
Because real power is in truth. And the truth is this: some women are trying to conceive. Some have husbands who kiss their bellies and hope. Some are yearning for that first kick, that quiet rhythm of new life.
Let’s not scar them with our bitterness.
Let’s not be the reason a girl chooses sterilization over motherhood because someone on the internet made childbirth sound like a horror film with no happy ending.
Your agenda is tired. Your fear is not a virtue.
And to the women who didn’t make it before, during, or after labor, we remember you. We honor you. But we will not let your stories be twisted into weapons against hope.
Pregnancy is not a death sentence.
It is the beginning of everything.
So let’s speak like midwives, not mourners.
And let’s dead this stupid agenda already. It has expired.
And no, we won’t be renewing it!
Make una dey train una boy child Sha😐, everything is not about girl child, the boy child you didn't train yesterday, will tomorrow make life difficult for the girl child another family trained.
As a man you cannot cook simple meals
You cannot dry clean your own clothes
I transitioned. I detransitioned.
I’ve lived it, and I’ve paid the price.
So no, I’m not “neutral”, “accepting”, or “open to different truths”.
I know what this is.
It’s a lie that ruins lives.
And I won’t validate it just to be polite.
It is a good afternoon to remind you that;
Ph.D is FREE in Hungary,
Ph.D is FREE in Saudi Arabia,
Ph.D is FREE in Finland,
Ph.D is FREE in Denmark,
You'll get paid to do Ph.D in Holland,
You'll get paid to do Ph.D in Austria,
You'll get paid to do Ph.D in Italy,
Ph.D is cheap in Israel,
Ph.D is cheap in New Zealand,
Ph.D is cheap in France,
Ph.D is cheap in Norway.
Anyway for people interested, this is how to make Ewa Agoyin (the actual Togolese one) at home. You’re welcome 🙂↕️✋🏾
P.S if I’m owing you this particular meal, just skip and pass 😭
Good afternoon Nigerians.
I don't expect you to care but about a year ago Christiana Idowu, a 300-level student of FUNAAB was brutally murdered by Ayomide Adeleye.
Her father has been crying out.
Please ask @BenHundeyin & the Nigerian Police what is going on.
Please.