Kids and their teachers have now been with terrorists for almost 30 days. That's an entire month! How do such people remain the same after this horrific experience? The GCFR is quiet, not heard much from the NSA. Families in agony, wondering what, if any news to expect.
I've been reflecting on the relationship between Paul, Mark and Barnabas, how it relates to grace and Mentorship and I penned down my thoughts.
Please Read, share and I'd love to hear your thoughts
https://t.co/MYi80UfukX
So this APC supporter asked me to go and hug transformer because I said I would not vote for Tinubu.
I hugged the transformer for 12 hours straight, nothing happened. No light.
Please everyone should get their PVCs
Gave these interns a set of facts for moot and mock. Day for trial came and I was expecting legal fireworks. Only for them to inform us in court that they have filed Terms of Settlement.
I’m more than impressed 😂❤️.
I entered a BRT this morning thinking I was going to work… not WWE Lagos Edition 😭
Driver kick-started the bus and suddenly turned into a street fighter with one man outside. Insults were flying, passengers were begging, but oga said “today, we fight.”
Meanwhile, all of us had scanned our cards and you know BRT doesn’t do refunds. So now we’re stuck watching live boxing we didn’t pay for.
When the driver refused to come back, one bold passenger said, “If you won’t drive, I will.” He entered the driver’s seat and zoomed off! 😭
Original driver saw his livelihood disappearing and started chasing the bus, shouting in Yoruba like it was an action movie. The craziest part? Some passengers were yelling, “Don’t stop! Leave him!”
Eventually they let him in. I expected World War 3.
But this man quietly collected the steering wheel like nothing happened. No speech. No drama. Just vibes.
I don laugh tire.
Honestly, Lagos is not a real place 😭
My dear, your reasons are valid. I was eating biscuits once inside the bus going home. Like I opened the biscuits there and this baby who was been held sleeping opened eyes and stared and kept shouting hand out to get it. I refused to give as per legal conscience, and I said no nicely oh because the mum said give now 😂😂
Omo, everyone, for bus, started talking how I am stingy, and I refused saying anything in defence. Until one man said this is how I will be stingy to my children, omo I answered that at least I'll be 80% sure they'll not be allergic to what I eat and not die from it. I'm too legally conscious to do things out of will. What if they child dies? Who will be held responsible? Omo bus became quiet till everyone dropped. I was the last person to drop.
The bus driver told me well done😂😂😭😭.
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💪🏻