OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇

Public Health Veterinarian, Field Epidemiologist and a Child of the most high GOD

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@maziNdu4Real Chief, thank you.
How will you advise that I invest #100k monthly in ngx stock starting from now? Knowing that the prices of the mentioned stocks are relatively high.

[Pastor Adeboye @PastorEAAdeboye]

To My Lover, Foluke.

Great has been the journey of walking side by side with you. And so today, on your 78th birthday, is a gift to me, to have the world join me in doing what I have spent 58 years doing: celebrating you.

With you, the weight of the assignment has always been a lighter cross to carry. Our two have agreed, and so our walking together has been of divine stride, a race continuously illuminated, step after step, decade after decade. My path shines brighter because I walk it with you.

Many people know you as Mummy G.O. I have the privilege of knowing you simply as my wife, my friend, and the person who has stood with me through every challenge, every victory, and every assignment God has given us. I have watched you give strength to others even when you were tired yourself. I have seen your quiet sacrifices, your compassion, your wisdom, and your unwavering trust in God. Those are the things that make me thank God for you every day.

Our children have been blessed because of your love. The family of God has been blessed because of your devotion. Countless homes have been strengthened because you answered God’s call with all your heart.

Seventy-eight years of your life, fifty-eight years of them beside me, and still I find new reasons to thank God for you. You have been wife, counsel, and companion in every sense the word was ever meant to hold.

As you celebrate today, my prayer is simple. May the God whom you have served so faithfully continue to uphold you. May He surround you with His peace, fill your days with fresh joy, strengthen your body, renew your strength, and continue to satisfy you with His goodness. May the years ahead be even more fruitful than those behind, and may you continue to see the mighty hand of God at work in your life.

Thank you for walking hand in hand with me. Happy 78th birthday, my love.

Your loving husband,
Pastor E. A. Adeboye

@PastorFAAdeboye

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@globalpayng Hello, pls I've been trying to pay for LASU Screening fees through your channel for close to a week now with "something went wrong, try again later".

Kindly assist on how to overcome this.

I have been using Opay Verve card details, is it not accepting it?

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@spop_ng Hello, pls how can I track purchased items?

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

Very insightful, worthy of your time....

[TUNJI DISU @TunjiDisu1]

The First Lawmakers: My Reflection on Home, Discipline, and Duty

Law and order do not begin at the police station or the courthouse; they begin at home, in the quiet corners where parents teach their children right from wrong. When this foundation cracks, society inherits the fallout.

As a police officer, I’ve witnessed this truth play out in heartbreaking ways—parents arrive at stations, not with pleas for justice, but with demands for us to parent for them. “I want you to detain my child, I want you to discipline him.” “Torture him,” as though pain alone could rewrite a life long gone astray.

A retired soldier once came into my office in Ago Iwoye, demanding we kill his son, a university student arrested for cultism. His rage was volcanic. Yet, the very next day, that same man returned, food in hand, asking after his son’s well-being. When I joked, “So you don’t want us to kill him again?” his eyes betrayed a truth every parent knows: anger is often the flipside of helpless love.

Years later, I met that young man again in Shagamu. He’d survived his schooling, married, and become a father himself. When I asked if he’d ever want his daughter near cultism, his “No!” was instant.

Another father once begged us to help keep his drug-addicted son for weeks. “Keep him here,” he insisted. We refused—not out of indifference, but because cells are not rehabilitation centres. If anything were to happen to the boy, or if he escaped, who would the father blame? The police. Yet discipline cannot be outsourced. It must be nurtured, patiently and persistently, at home.

This brings me to a delicate truth: many of us grew up in an era where parents and teachers wielded firmer hands. My own father believed in the “reset button” of a good beating—a method he swore straightened my stubbornness (and yes, I laugh about it now). Teachers, too, disciplined freely, with canes and stern words. But times have changed.

Today, some see corporal punishment as archaic, even abusive. I am not here to debate methods—what worked for one generation may not work for another. What matters is engagement.

The problem today isn’t a lack of discipline; it’s a lack of presence. Parents once corrected their children directly, even if harshly. Some have handed that duty to strangers—teachers, police, and social workers. But no institution can replace a parent’s guidance. A child raised without boundaries at home will test them elsewhere—in cults, drug dens, or crime.

To be clear: I am not discouraging parents from reporting wayward children. If your son steals or your daughter vanishes, come to us. We will help. But do not confuse reporting with surrendering. When you hand us your child and say, “Fix them,” you misunderstand our role. We enforce laws; we cannot replace love. We investigate crimes; we cannot teach values.

The retired soldier’s son changed not because we jailed him, but because his father chose to fight for him, not against him.

Parents, hear me: society’s fabric is woven in your living rooms, at your dinner tables, in the quiet moments when you choose patience over fury, presence over absence. The police cannot replace your voice. We cannot instil the values you withhold. Our cells are not classrooms; handcuffs are not teaching tools. When you outsource parenting to the state, you gamble with life—and with the peace of communities.

Yes, parenthood is hard. It is exhausting, thankless, and often terrifying. But it is also sacred. Your children watch how you love, how you forgive, and how you rise after failing. They notice when you prioritize work over conversations, screens over eye contact, and fear over understanding. The boy who joins a cult, and the girl who slips into addiction—they are not born rebels. They are shaped by unmet needs, unheard cries, and lessons left untaught.

To the father who sees his son slipping away: Stay. To the mother who feels out of her depth: Ask for help. To the parent who thinks it’s too late: It isn’t. Discipline without love breeds resentment, but love without discipline breeds entitlement. Find the balance.

My generation’s parents were far from perfect, but they owned their role as first teachers. They scolded, they punished, and they stayed. I urge present parents to do the same—not with the harshness of the past, but with the wisdom of your own heart. Meet your children where they are. Listen. Correct and love.

I write this not as a Commissioner of Police, but as a witness. I’ve seen the worst of humanity—and the best. I’ve watched reformed cultists become devoted fathers. I’ve seen shattered families rebuild. Let us embrace hope and commit to being the first lawmakers in our homes.

[TUNJI DISU @TunjiDisu1]

The First Lawmakers: My Reflection on Home, Discipline, and Duty

Law and order do not begin at the police station or the courthouse; they begin at home, in the quiet corners where parents teach their children right from wrong. When this foundation cracks, society inherits the fallout.

As a police officer, I’ve witnessed this truth play out in heartbreaking ways—parents arrive at stations, not with pleas for justice, but with demands for us to parent for them. “I want you to detain my child, I want you to discipline him.” “Torture him,” as though pain alone could rewrite a life long gone astray.

A retired soldier once came into my office in Ago Iwoye, demanding we kill his son, a university student arrested for cultism. His rage was volcanic. Yet, the very next day, that same man returned, food in hand, asking after his son’s well-being. When I joked, “So you don’t want us to kill him again?” his eyes betrayed a truth every parent knows: anger is often the flipside of helpless love.

Years later, I met that young man again in Shagamu. He’d survived his schooling, married, and become a father himself. When I asked if he’d ever want his daughter near cultism, his “No!” was instant.

Another father once begged us to help keep his drug-addicted son for weeks. “Keep him here,” he insisted. We refused—not out of indifference, but because cells are not rehabilitation centres. If anything were to happen to the boy, or if he escaped, who would the father blame? The police. Yet discipline cannot be outsourced. It must be nurtured, patiently and persistently, at home.

This brings me to a delicate truth: many of us grew up in an era where parents and teachers wielded firmer hands. My own father believed in the “reset button” of a good beating—a method he swore straightened my stubbornness (and yes, I laugh about it now). Teachers, too, disciplined freely, with canes and stern words. But times have changed.

Today, some see corporal punishment as archaic, even abusive. I am not here to debate methods—what worked for one generation may not work for another. What matters is engagement.

The problem today isn’t a lack of discipline; it’s a lack of presence. Parents once corrected their children directly, even if harshly. Some have handed that duty to strangers—teachers, police, and social workers. But no institution can replace a parent’s guidance. A child raised without boundaries at home will test them elsewhere—in cults, drug dens, or crime.

To be clear: I am not discouraging parents from reporting wayward children. If your son steals or your daughter vanishes, come to us. We will help. But do not confuse reporting with surrendering. When you hand us your child and say, “Fix them,” you misunderstand our role. We enforce laws; we cannot replace love. We investigate crimes; we cannot teach values.

The retired soldier’s son changed not because we jailed him, but because his father chose to fight for him, not against him.

Parents, hear me: society’s fabric is woven in your living rooms, at your dinner tables, in the quiet moments when you choose patience over fury, presence over absence. The police cannot replace your voice. We cannot instil the values you withhold. Our cells are not classrooms; handcuffs are not teaching tools. When you outsource parenting to the state, you gamble with life—and with the peace of communities.

Yes, parenthood is hard. It is exhausting, thankless, and often terrifying. But it is also sacred. Your children watch how you love, how you forgive, and how you rise after failing. They notice when you prioritize work over conversations, screens over eye contact, and fear over understanding. The boy who joins a cult, and the girl who slips into addiction—they are not born rebels. They are shaped by unmet needs, unheard cries, and lessons left untaught.

To the father who sees his son slipping away: Stay. To the mother who feels out of her depth: Ask for help. To the parent who thinks it’s too late: It isn’t. Discipline without love breeds resentment, but love without discipline breeds entitlement. Find the balance.

My generation’s parents were far from perfect, but they owned their role as first teachers. They scolded, they punished, and they stayed. I urge present parents to do the same—not with the harshness of the past, but with the wisdom of your own heart. Meet your children where they are. Listen. Correct and love.

I write this not as a Commissioner of Police, but as a witness. I’ve seen the worst of humanity—and the best. I’ve watched reformed cultists become devoted fathers. I’ve seen shattered families rebuild. Let us embrace hope and commit to being the first lawmakers in our homes.

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@TunjiDisu1 @TunjiDisu1 , thank you for a well scripted piece 🧩🧩

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@DrTedros @Chikwe_I @WHOAFRO @WHO Congratulations @Chikwe_I , it's a great achievement...

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

All effort to restore proper functioning proved abortive. A phone technician suggested that it is either a factory error or a fake product. At this point I tried checking the label and realised that it is HUAWEI F317 that was written on it. Picture attached

Kindly assist.......

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@Huawei , @fccpcnigeria, @JumiaNigeria
I got a Huawei GSM Table Phone ETS3125i through a mobile vendor, Jumia, with a policy of 7 days return period. However, on the 8th day of the receipt, I suddenly noticed that all the buttons stopped working except for the power button.

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

However, after applying for PUTME, your portal keep saying "Our record shows that you're yet to change your institution of choice to UNILESA. If this is true, proceed with this link" and refused to allow me to proceed.

Attached is the JAMB slip.

Kindly help resolve, please.

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@UNILESAOfficial
Good morning, sir, my daughter with the following details;

Opeyemi Olawoyin
Application ID: 1420211236
JAMB Number: 202440460467HA

changed her first choice of institution to Unilesa.

[DON “Tobechukwu” Ade 👑 @Row_Haastrup]

In 1930, Wesley Hospital in Ilesa was emptied by the healing power of God at work in the life of this great Apostle of God.

He was once at a crusade where there was no more mat for people to sleep on.
He requested his ministers to go to a particular room to get mats for the people who needed to sleep. They got there but the room was empty.

He sent them a 2nd time insisting that there were mats there, they checked & checked but no mats.
This happened a 3rd time & after returning, he decided to go himself to get them the mats.

On getting to the entrance of the room. He didn’t go in completely, instead he stood halfway at the entrance, & threw his hand into the room without looking into the room & started throwing mats out until everyone had picked mats & there was no more need for it.
He brought out mats that never existed from an empty room.

Apostle Joseph Ayo Babalola showed no sign of sickness until his unforseen call to glory on Sunday, 26th July, 1959.

These mighty acts are very much reproducible today & even more.

How hungry & yielded are you for dimensions such as this?

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

Week 2 Attendance https://t.co/GR0zbkoIfm

[Resolve to Save Lives @ResolveTSL]

Salt reduction is the key ingredient to comprehensive food policies -cost-effective, high-yield and proven. As #SaltAwarenessWeek comes to a close, we’re keeping the conversation going at #WHA77 in Geneva. RSVP for our side event, hosted with @NCDAlliance. https://t.co/SUVwlVY39I

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@nimc_ng Thank you for this provision, however my NIN is not validating. Always returning "NIN verification failed. Try again later"

Kindly work on it

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

This is the right policy implementation, hitherto neglected, in the right direction...
Good job @cenbank 👍👍

[D. H Bwala @BwalaDaniel]

Thank you @cenbank for this directive. Imagine there is a Nigerian private university, operating in Nigerian market, owned by a Nigerian, collecting school fees and ancillaries in Dollars. Many other domestic companies transacting in Forex. We would soon get to root of why the naira is depreciating.

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@rutie_xx Congratulations.....

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@PNMbah Your excellency sir, I just want to appeal to you to be a leader and not a slave master. The Policeman standing behind you makes you look like one.

Change the narrative, please....

[OLUSEYI AKANO 🧡🥇 @oluseyiakano]

@wemabank , @MabrookTelecoms , @OPay_NG , @OPaySupport

Trying to topup my mabrook account on 24/05/23, using the Wema account, 8872320945, given, I received a successful transfer alert with transaction no 230524025427827998, but my topup refused to drop.

Kindly help resolve..