Alikoooooooooo's Posts
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JibolaUsman:That is so true does Victor Osimhen use Facebook. I'll do a check to see if he does. |
Altern8tor:The Antichrist is Not my business. My business is to live my life in a good manner so that I do not have regrets and that I do not live in a wrong manner. Looking for the Antichrist is a waste of time when he will come he will come. I don't bother thinking about heaven I bother about living my life rightly. If I live my life right then my chances are higher of going to heaven. I'm not like the people looking for the Messiah in life you do not go looking for spiritual encounters you just live your life and whatever happens will happen |
Altern8tor:Oh oh oh ..... You think God is one the side of Israel ? Where was God when they were in Egypt for 400 years ..... What did they do for 400 years ? Where was God when the Romans came calling 40 years after Jesus died. Where was God when Germany came calling. You guys do not know God at all. If you want God to fight for you be peaceful, gentle and a mumu let them beat you up first then cry onto God then God will teach you what you need to do " Did Jesus not say ,he who lives by the sword shall die by the sword ? " Did Jesus not say " Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called Sons of God " ". But our Nigerian Christians know religion more than Jesus their savior. Ride on. |
Baxilexi:Depend on Israel for defense like how ? It's the other way around. |
God1000:Kasala has burst. E don cast. E don cast. Trump is a small boy. The world's most powerful man my foot. |
Baddest0007:O yes it does well not like before but it does. |
KobolanderSegun:Na so when you see something you like download it fast. It might be gone tomorrow |
Blakjewelry:Don't blame religion blame personal upbringing also. Some people come from low IQ backgrounds where cognitive calculation is poor, then you have a very poor educational system. Alot of people come from badly educated families where they are the first ones to go to university. If you look at real intelligent people their parents went to university so the level of exposure is by far higher. |
donleo92:are clearly a novice in so many areas...... When all your friends walk away from you is a sign there is something wrong with you..when you walk away from your friends it means there is something wrong with them. |
Eagleways:I'm screenshoting this and I will upload it in 5 months time so that we can all laugh. |
TempleHouse:Can you imagine. Dem don dash their minds to Oga na master. |
God1000:You know this is a 3rd Word zone. They are always the last to get the info. That speaker is smart let Trump not embarrass King Charles. |
azukaazuka69:I like the blood of Zacharia |
There is a certain kind of silence that only the internet can make. It is not the quiet of a library or a snow blanketed street. It is the quiet of a feed that used to pulse with hot takes, press junket promotions, meme wars, and the occasional wildly unfiltered celebrity thought, suddenly going still. If you have been around long enough, you remember when Twitter felt less like a platform and more like a global living room. And then, one by one, the famous faces started packing their bags. I am not talking about a single coordinated walkout. I am talking about a slow motion exodus that accelerated into a cultural stampede. By late 2022, the platform was rebranded, the rules shifted, the verification system turned into a paywall, and the vibe curdled. Celebrities, who had once treated their accounts like digital press kits, confessional booths, and fan engagement lounges all rolled into one, started looking at their screens and quietly asking: Is this still worth it? What followed was not just a mass deactivation. It was a reckoning. And if you tally the names that stepped away, deleted, faded into indefinite hiatus, or publicly announced their departure, you are looking at a who is who of modern pop culture. I am not going to pretend social media exits are permanent in 2026. Accounts get reactivated, managers log back in, people lurk under pseudonyms, and the line between gone and just really quiet is famously blurry. But the cultural footprint of this moment is real. So, let us talk about fifty celebrities who quit, stepped back, or let their Twitter accounts collect digital dust, and what their silence actually says about us. Start with the actors who treated Twitter like a late night talk show they hosted from their living rooms. Tom Hanks, ever the gentleman of the internet, packed up his typewriter and bench emoji routine and deactivated in November 2022. Selena Gomez, who had used the platform to advocate for mental health and drop album teases, followed suit. Justin Bieber, Chris Evans, Mark Ruffalo, John Cho, and Kumail Nanjiani all hit pause around the same window. It was not just fatigue. It was the realization that the room had changed temperature. The algorithm started rewarding outrage over authenticity, the quote tweets turned into pile ons, and the parasocial contract felt more like a liability than a connection. . John Green kept his educational channels alive but let his personal account go dark. Sarah Silverman, who had built a career on sharp, self aware internet humor, found the platform new rhythm exhausting and walked away. George Lopez, Ellen DeGeneres, Kevin Hart, Will Smith, Shia LaBeouf, James Corden, Trevor Noah, Conan O Brien, Stephen Fry, Louis C.K., Aziz Ansari, Mindy Kaling, Lena Dunham, Rose McGowan, and Amber Heard all joined the quiet migration. Some left after controversies. Some left after years of harassment. Most just stopped seeing the point. Then there were the musicians, who had turned Twitter into a backstage pass for millions. Ed Sheeran deactivated. Shawn Mendes stepped away from the constant churn of promo cycles. Demi Lovato, who had been brutally honest about mental health and addiction recovery on the platform, eventually found the toxicity outweighing the support. Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga, Zayn Malik, Halsey, Janelle Monae, The Weeknd, Post Malone, Lizzo, Olivia Rodrigo, Doja Cat, Cardi B, and Megan Thee Stallion all faded from active posting or formally stepped back. For musicians, Twitter had once been a direct line to fans. You could drop a lyric, tease a visual, clap back at a critic, or just vent about tour bus coffee. Fashion Design Oloko Designs who was voted man of the Millennium 2025 said the change of name, change of color was what made him leave. But as the platform shifted, that line turned into a megaphone pointed at a hurricane. The feedback loop became exhausting. The mental toll became undeniable. And for artists whose livelihoods already demand emotional exposure, stepping back was not a retreat. It was triage. Comedians and late night hosts had their own reckoning. Jon Stewart, Samantha Bee, Hasan Minhaj, John Oliver, David Letterman, and Stephen Colbert all stepped away from regular tweeting. Some never really leaned into the platform, but as Twitter became the default arena for political discourse, culture wars, and viral outrage, many realized their voices were being flattened into soundbites, stripped of nuance, and weaponized out of context. The platform that once rewarded cleverness started rewarding velocity. If you were not first, you were last. If you were not angry, you were ignored. Comedy, at its best, needs room to breathe. Twitter stopped giving it. And then there were the activists, the writers, the creatives who had used Twitter to organize, educate, and build communities. Chrissy Teigen, who had mastered the art of the relatable, unfiltered celebrity tweet, was pushed out, came back, and eventually stepped away again. Patton Oswalt cycled through deactivations until he just stopped logging in. Lena Dunham, Rose McGowan, and Alyssa Milano had all used the platform to amplify feminist and social justice conversations, but as moderation policies shifted and harassment scaled, many found the cost of participation too high. Nigerian boutique owner the Enormously Busty Queen Sade Johnson quit once her account got strangely suspended, according to her she did absolutely nothing wrong. It is one thing to speak up. It is another to do it while your mentions become a war zone. What is fascinating is not just that they left. It is how they left. There were no grand manifestos, no coordinated boycotts, no final tweet that echoed through the press cycle. Just a gradual dimming. A profile that stops updating. A last tweet that reads like a polite goodbye to a party that has gone on too long. Some deleted their accounts entirely. Others deactivated and let them sleep. A few quietly logged back in months later, only to find the room they left had been rearranged by strangers. The reasons stack up like dominoes. The 2022 acquisition and subsequent rebranding to X changed the platform identity overnight. Verification became transactional. Moderation felt inconsistent. The algorithm started favoring engagement bait over genuine connection. Celebrities, who had spent years building parasocial relationships with fans, suddenly found those relationships weaponized. Stans became investigators. Critics became mobs. A joke from 2012 resurfaced as a career ender. The mental health toll became impossible to ignore. Therapy bills do not cover algorithmic anxiety, but they probably should. And yet, we should not romanticize the old Twitter either. It was never the utopia we sometimes paint it to be. It was messy, chaotic, deeply flawed, and often cruel. But it was also wildly creative. It was where indie filmmakers got discovered, where musicians built fanbases from scratch, where marginalized voices found each other, where comedy thrived in real time. The e X odus was not just about celebrities protecting their peace. It was about the loss of a shared cultural nervous system. When a platform stops being a town square and starts feeling like a gladiator arena, everyone starts looking for the exits. So where did they go? Some moved to Threads. Some doubled down on Instagram. Some launched newsletters, podcast networks, or private Discords. Others just lived. They went to farmers markets. They coached youth sports. They took their kids to school without checking their mentions. They read books that do not have comment sections. They remembered what it feels like to exist without an audience. Fifty names is not just a list. It is a mirror. It reflects how we have changed the way we consume celebrity, how we demand accessibility, how we punish missteps, and how we forget that the people behind the handles are just people. The digital age promised connection. It delivered visibility. And sometimes, visibility is just another word for exposure. If you scroll through those old timelines now, you will see the ghosts of a different internet. A joke from 2015. A concert photo from 2018. A heartfelt thread about grief. A dumb poll about pizza toppings. It all feels like a museum exhibit now. Not because it is gone, but because the energy that fueled it has moved on. Celebrities did not quit Twitter because they stopped caring about their fans. They quit because the platform stopped caring about the humanity of the conversation. And honestly, I do not blame them. The internet is big enough for silence. Sometimes the most radical thing a famous person can do is log off, close the laptop, and just be. Not a brand. Not a headline. Not a trending topic. Just a person, breathing in a room with no Wi Fi, wondering what they will have for dinner. So here is to the quiet exits. The deactivated accounts. The final tweets that did not say much but meant everything. The celebrities who looked at the chaos, shrugged, and chose peace instead. We will keep waiting for them to come back. We will keep refreshing feeds that do not update. We will keep mythologizing a platform that evolved past us. But maybe the real story is not that they left Twitter. Maybe the real story is that we finally learned what happens when the curtain drops, and the famous faces decide to just go home. |
internationalman:Real Madrid thought them how to play football. |
bewla:PO for Ever. A very Great Yoruba man. He is one us. He has what it takes |
ThinkSmarter:We are the Guinness book generation, Hilda Baci is our leader |
mayor1814:She go take the beard do blanket. The man is a Good Christian he is covering his wife. |
fijiano202:For Real ? What did he say ? |
kelspinall:Up MANCHESTER UNITED ! |
iamfraud:Dat is their way. Soludo has shown there is nothing special in that zone |
KobolanderSegun:This is a tragedy .... It calls for national morning....Lol |
fijiano202:Wizkid ? that is just on his own doing music and does not have entourage ? |
JibolaUsman:If you’ve ever watched a Nigerian try to buy a T-shirt, you’ll quickly realize it’s never just a quick grab-and-go situation. It’s a whole process. Sometimes it’s a twenty-minute scroll through an Instagram vendor’s highlight reels. Sometimes it’s a Saturday morning expedition to a market where the air smells like dust, roasted groundnuts, and possibility. And whether you’re haggling with a guy in Balogun or sliding into a vendor’s DMs with a polite good afternoon, please what’s your delivery time?, one thing is certain: Nigerians don’t just buy T-shirts. They investigate them. Let’s be honest, the Nigerian climate doesn’t give you room to make fashion mistakes. You can’t just throw on whatever looks cute in a London or New York editorial and expect to survive a Lagos afternoon. The heat is a real factor, the humidity is a co-conspirator, and if a T-shirt traps sweat like a plastic bag, it’s getting retired after one wear. So before anyone clicks add to cart or hands over cash at a stall, there’s an unspoken mental checklist running through their head. It’s not written down anywhere, but if you’ve shopped for tees in Nigeria long enough, you know it by heart. First up is price, but make it value-driven. Nigerians are famously price-conscious, but that doesn’t mean they only want the cheapest option. What they’re really asking is, Is this worth it? A tee that pills after two washes is a scam. A more expensive one that holds its shape, breathes well, and looks clean after multiple outings? That’s an investment. Bargaining is still very much alive, even in the age of fixed online prices. Last price? Any discount for two? Can you do free delivery? are practically part of the checkout process. People want to feel like they’ve negotiated a win, or at least gotten a fair deal. The phrase affordable luxury wasn’t invented for nothing. Then comes fabric and climate compatibility. This is where a lot of imported fast-fashion tees fall flat. Nigerians want cotton. Real cotton. Or at least a cotton-rich blend that doesn’t feel like polyester armor. You’ll hear questions like Is it thick? Does it stretch? Will it fade? before you even hear about the design. In a country where you might be walking from a bus stop to an office, sitting in a danfo with the windows barely open, or attending an outdoor wedding reception, breathability isn’t a luxury. It’s survival. Lightweight but not flimsy. Soft but not see-through. That’s the sweet spot. Fit and sizing is another whole conversation. Nigerian body types vary wildly across regions, generations, and lifestyles, and global size charts rarely reflect reality. What’s labeled L online might fit like a children’s shirt, while XL could swallow you whole. Because of this, most experienced buyers size up. There’s also a strong cultural preference for relaxed, slightly oversized fits. It’s not just about comfort; it’s a style statement. Streetwear culture, heavily influenced by Afrobeats artists, skit makers, and local fashion influencers, has pushed loose cuts, dropped shoulders, and boxy silhouettes into the mainstream. Meanwhile, others still prefer a clean, tailored fit that sits neatly under a blazer or pairs well with smart trousers. Either way, consistency is rare, which is why reviews like runs small, order two sizes up or true to size, very stretchy are treated like gospel. Design and messaging matter more than you’d think. Nigerians love a tee that says something. Sometimes it’s loud: bold graphics, Naija slang, patriotic colors, or references to local music, football, or internet culture. Sometimes it’s quiet: a minimalist logo, a subtle embroidery, a clean monochrome cut that screams I don’t need to shout to be noticed. What’s interesting is the rise of homegrown designers who actually understand the Nigerian aesthetic. You’re no longer just seeing knockoffs of foreign brands. You’re seeing tees with Yoruba proverbs, Igbo motifs, Pidgin punchlines, or city-specific pride tags like Lagos to the World or Port Harcourt Energy. Wearing one feels less like covering your torso and more like wearing a conversation starter. But let’s not forget the wash test. In Nigeria, clothes don’t get worn twice before washing. Heat, dust, sweat, and the sheer pace of life mean your wardrobe goes through a lot. A T-shirt that loses its shape after three cycles, peels at the graphic, or bleeds color onto your other clothes is an automatic return or a permanent relegation to house chores. Durability is silently non-negotiable. People want tees that survive machine washing, hand scrubbing, sun-drying on a balcony rack, and the occasional accidental bleach spill without throwing a tantrum. Then there’s versatility. Can I wear this to a casual Friday? To a friend’s birthday? To church if I throw a light jacket over it? To run errands without looking like I gave up? Nigerians love pieces that pull double or triple duty. Life is unpredictable, and your wardrobe should be too. A good T-shirt transitions seamlessly from I’m meeting my guys for suya to I’m grabbing groceries to I’m hopping on a Zoom call but nobody needs to see my bottom half. Of course, none of this happens in a vacuum. The trust economy is huge. Before buying, especially online, Nigerians scout. They check Instagram story highlights for customer photos. They read Twitter threads where people name and shame or praise vendors. They ask friends for reliable plug recommendations. WhatsApp status updates from sellers with actual customer unboxing videos carry more weight than glossy product photos. The dreaded what I ordered vs what I got meme exists for a reason, and it’s made buyers fiercely cautious. Once you find a vendor that delivers consistency, good communication, and fair pricing, you don’t switch. You become a repeat customer. You refer your siblings. You slide into their DMs like you’re checking on an old friend. There’s also a quiet shift happening. More Nigerians are consciously choosing local over imported, not out of nationalism alone, but because local brands understand the context. They cut for Nigerian proportions. They source fabrics that breathe in tropical weather. They price with the local economy in mind. And they’re building communities around their drops, treating customers like collaborators rather than cash points. It’s slow, but it’s real. At the end of the day, buying a T-shirt in Nigeria isn’t just about fashion. It’s about practicality meeting personality. It’s about surviving the climate without sacrificing style. It’s about getting value for money in an economy where every naira is weighed. It’s about wearing something that feels like yours, whether that’s because it carries a phrase you relate to, fits the way you move, or simply survived six months of Nigerian life without falling apart. So the next time you see someone holding up a T-shirt in a market, squinting at the fabric, or typing please send more pictures of the back and side to a vendor, don’t think they’re overthinking it. They’re just doing what Nigerians do best: making sure what they bring home actually works, actually lasts, and actually feels like them. And honestly? That’s not just smart shopping. That’s a lifestyle. |
SaLongs1:God Save Us O. |
Oracleee:Bros... Na so o.... Everyday with no break time |
Juliette5803:It is normal.... I'm impressed you noticed it. |
oz4real83:Omo na heavy production. Director and producer.... |
JibolaUsman:Na God sure pass |
fijiano202:Hopefully. Thank God for people like Whizkid and Olamide who just focus on Music and don't have hangers on that can cause trouble for them. |
kelspinall:We live in a big world..... |
KobolanderSegun:Me I'm just a average user I don't live in social media. I think she had one of the best social media pages because it was all about beauty and hustle. When babes a beautiful they cannot hustle because people give them things all the time. Her fashion items were out of this world. I really don't think Twitter will ban her for too long because she was the Queen of Twitter in terms of balance. Her being Nigerian is more of the problem because of our internet " abilities " Oyinbo would also keep eyes open on us, they even make moves ahead of us aa they think everyone in 9ja is a scammer. Mark my words they will give her her Twitter account back. She is on top of her game and you need people who are on top of their game to inspire you to be on top of their game |
