Some of you are so weird. Commuting daily you’re taking buses and keke but as soon that man reaches out to you to come over you remember uber and bolts exist.🤦🏽♀️
Presently at Ariko in Katari, under Kachia LGA where 37 Christian worshippers were taken during worship on Easter Sunday 5th April (About 70days ago). We're here to stage a protest for their release.
It will be livestreamed on my Facebook and Tiktok pages.
PLEASE SHARE AND ENGAGE MASSIVELY SO IT CAN GO VIRAL
#FreeArikoVictims
I was so happy watching that video, where that MC told Seyi Tinubu that his father is the worse president Nigeria has had.
Seyi Tinubu didn't believe what he heard; the MC repeated himself again.
Please, we must ensure that nothing happens to that MC; he deserves a national award.
Henry Nowak died the same way a civilization dies: abandoned, handcuffed by authorities who neither trusted nor cared for him, and accused of hate crimes he did not commit. His murder is as tragic as it is enraging. He should still be alive today, and he would be if the last few generations of European elites had stood their ground against the politics of self-hatred and the mass invasion of migrants, many of whom despise the West and the people who love it.
Henry was far from the first to so needlessly lose his life, and I fear he won’t be the last. Each time a life like his is lost, the proper response—the only response—is righteous anger. One of the most important things the Trump administration has proven to the world is that stopping the flow of mass migration and defending national sovereignty is a matter of political will and leadership. Anything else is an excuse.
It is because we love the West that we want to preserve it. We love our civilization. We love our country. We love our children. And nobody—nobody—should ever die the way that Henry Nowak died. May God comfort those who loved him, and may God rest his soul.
@Tech_babby I am very much interested. i have some prior understanding of prompt engineering which i would i am more than intrested in furthering. Thank you in advance.
Biafra Veteran Soldiers: Remembered, Honored and Respected.....
Yesterday's gathering was a remarkable event to them.
Wishing them more healthy life on earth.
Three weeks ago, my 23-year-old neighbor was kidnapped on her way to Kontagora in Niger State.
While in captivity, the bandits repeatedly raped her taking turns sleeping with her night after night. Still, they kept bargaining with her father over the phone, demanding ransom even as they violated her.
Her father fought with everything he had. He hustled day and night, borrowed from everyone, took loans, sold whatever he could determined to bring his daughter home.
When he finally gathered the full amount, he called the bandits and begged them, ‘Please, give the phone to my daughter. Let me speak to her. I want her to know I’m coming for her.’
They gave her the phone.
In a broken, traumatized voice, she told her father: ‘Dad, do not suffer yourself looking for the money. They have been sleeping with me. I’m traumatized. I can’t forgive myself. Even if I’m released, I’ll kill myself. Don’t bother paying the ransom.’
Those were the last words she ever spoke to him.
While her father was still holding the phone, he heard the gunshot. He heard his daughter being killed. Moments later, the bandits sent pictures of her remains to him, a final act of cruelty.
A 23-year-old girl. My neighbor. Someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone’s friend gone in the most horrific way possible.
This is not just one story. This is the nightmare too many families are living in Niger State and across Nigeria. Young women snatched on the roads, violated, used as bargaining chips, and discarded like nothing.
Living in Nigeria has become truly scary. You wake up, you step out, and you don’t know if you or your loved ones will return home. The fear is constant. The pain is constant. And too often, justice never comes.
Rest in peace to my neighbor.
Three weeks ago, my 23-year-old neighbor was kidnapped on her way to Kontagora in Niger State.
While in captivity, the bandits repeatedly raped her taking turns sleeping with her night after night. Still, they kept bargaining with her father over the phone, demanding ransom even as they violated her.
Her father fought with everything he had. He hustled day and night, borrowed from everyone, took loans, sold whatever he could determined to bring his daughter home.
When he finally gathered the full amount, he called the bandits and begged them, ‘Please, give the phone to my daughter. Let me speak to her. I want her to know I’m coming for her.’
They gave her the phone.
In a broken, traumatized voice, she told her father: ‘Dad, do not suffer yourself looking for the money. They have been sleeping with me. I’m traumatized. I can’t forgive myself. Even if I’m released, I’ll kill myself. Don’t bother paying the ransom.’
Those were the last words she ever spoke to him.
While her father was still holding the phone, he heard the gunshot. He heard his daughter being killed. Moments later, the bandits sent pictures of her remains to him, a final act of cruelty.
A 23-year-old girl. My neighbor. Someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone’s friend gone in the most horrific way possible.
This is not just one story. This is the nightmare too many families are living in Niger State and across Nigeria. Young women snatched on the roads, violated, used as bargaining chips, and discarded like nothing.
Living in Nigeria has become truly scary. You wake up, you step out, and you don’t know if you or your loved ones will return home. The fear is constant. The pain is constant. And too often, justice never comes.
Rest in peace to my neighbor.