₦airaland Forum

tripoli007:
You need a lawyer oh, endeavor to take snapshots ,or ID cards when customers make transfer , for this kinda purpose .

We've stopped huge transfers. We only take transfer below 10k and you must be willing to drop your details and phone number.

Youngboss54:
First and foremost i believe the lawyer who drafted the process would have sued all respondents jointly and severally. meaning if judgment goes in the plantiff favour, all of you would pay(contribution). Secondly you cant escape hiring the services of a lawyer. this isn't a matter you can just go to court and say a word or two, and the court would strike out the suit. this borders on fraudulent transaction and there's being a PND on your account, how would you apply to court to set aside such order pending determination of the substantive suit
All I'm trynna say is, you need a lawyer. nairaland/online barristers won't help you

Thanks for the response. I don't have the strength to pursue the case as I don't reside in Lag. I just hope persons among us that has huge amount involved will employ lawyers.
Besides, is there hope that we may win the case?

I dont know the right section to post this, mods should pls help me do the needful.

Pls, pardon my english and punctuations after all I'm not learned .

Also pardon me for the long episode.

It occurred to me to bring this issue here perhaps it may concern other nairalanders and we may get better counsel here.

I was served a court order issued at Ikoyi high court on Friday 7th Jan. by my bank(named withheld). A certain amount of money was withheld from my account on Dec. 2nd 2021 and my account restricted.
I own a POS terminal business managed by someone. I was told a particular financial institution called
Hope payment service bank limited
had a system break down sometimes in Nov. 2021 and some persons that got to know about it used the opportunity to make fraudulent transfers to POS operators across the country and it cut across 16 financial banks in Nigeria.
About 195 of us across different state in Nigeria were served the order (I reside in one of the south Western states but not Lag).

Because the POS belongs to the bank, it was opened with account number so I instructed the person at the stand to always use it for transfers, though when there is no network we normally use another account but that particular day, it was the POS account number that was given to the person that came for the transactions and money given him immediately the alert gotten.

Now, we were made to understand that our account was placed on PND (pay no Debit) because they couldn't identify the people that made the transfers but had to hold the recipient of the money responsible.
** I will attach the court order at the end of my story pls.

I learnt they will start siting on the case on the 17th of January, 2022. Now my question is:
1. What are we suppose to do?
2. What's our fate in such situation?
3. I know that our bank's legal unit will be represented but will they be representing our interest?
4. Peradventure the court rule that we should forfeit that amount transferred to our account let's say 1.2m(for example) and I happened to have 100k only in my account when it was restricted, will I be mandated to pay the remaining amount even if after the account is unrestricted and I decided to abandone it?

NB: pls if you work at Ikoyi High court or know anything about the above subject matter we need useful updates pls ���

I'm not an expert here, pls if I want to view this thread anytime for update how do I go about it pls

Pls if this can make front page for wider view and comments, I will appreciate it.

Thanks for your time.

I rep myself

Please I'm relying on u?

bosman50:
I can't teach you but I can give you a clue.
How many followers do you currently have?
Do you personally know anyone with a somewhat large number of followers?
Start following and ask them to follow back.
Remember nothing goes for nothing. Learn to feed their eyes and see them eating from your hands.
Good luck

Thanks so much.

bosman50:
It is possible but very difficult. You need to give something in order to get something.
Nothing goes for nothing. Ask janemena and her likes

Can you teach me pls, I don't mind giving something

Pls help a sister

Good evening house,
Pls I need the assistance of a good Samaritan. Instagram guru/experts.
Someone wants to give me a job to boost his Instagram page.
I was given a new IG page to test my ability.
Pls come to my rescue if you are good in boosting IG page freely.
Is it possible to boost it freely or not.
Someone should help me out pls.

Xmas is at hand I need money badly.

Andyvilly:
use hiketop+ app, it worked for me. Thank me later.

Pls is it free?

Andyvilly:
use hiketop+ app, it worked for me. Thank me later.

Thanks so much for your response.
I appreciate it a lot.
Pls can you give me your mail, so I can get you contact for tutoring.
Mine is janeeybee@gmail.com.
Will o download hiketop+ ?

Pls I need someone to teach me how to boost Instagram page organically.
If you have a knowledge about IG boosting pls help a sister secure a job interview.
Thanks

Pls I need someone to teach me how to boost Instagram page organically.
If you have a knowledge about IG boosting pls help a sister secure a job interview.
Thanks

Pls I need someone to teach me how to boost Instagram page organically.
If you have a knowledge about IG boosting pls help a sister secure a job interview.
Thanks

Pls I need someone to teach me how to boost Instagram page organically.
If you have a knowledge about IG boosting pls help a sister secure a job interview.
Thanks

Pls pardon me as I don't know the right place to post this.
Great family, pls I need someone to assist in teaching me on how to boost an Instagram page organically personally (without involving payment).
I needed to attend an interview soon pls.

Can I boost a bit an account organically? What are other possibility to grow IG without turning on the ads?

I believe problem shared is half solved. Pls help your sister.

This gave me a teary eyes.
Life is not balance at all.

ThankYouGod:
Take the innocent girl to a motherless home.

Tell them her father has run mad and the mother is nowhere to be found.

You are not nice bikonu and the poor man is even thanking you for calling him mad

seunsiju:
I hate hearing anything WAEC.... I got f9 in nine subjects in my first sittings cos I no follow dem do expo forming staunch Depeer life member...... When I come dey use 3yrs for house omo na Miracle center I registered ooo.... One time b3 in five subjects.... Most passes in WAEC are from miracle center

And you are proud to say this? No wonder we have half baked graduates everywhere.
I'm sorry for the future of this country that rated certificate so high above competency.

Hmmm, value what you have. Don't wait until you loose it.happy birthday madam

Fornication is a great sin before God. Abstain from fleshly lust

This is serious!??

It's so painful missing a sibling. May God comfort you.

icerberg:
You can have your entire week(end) planned out and then life happens, the wind of reality blows you in a completely different direction. Some you survive and recover from, others, the end of the road, a dead end. Series of events happened between July and December 2018 that severely questioned my belief in God.

On the cold rainy Saturday evening of July 28, 2018 at about 5pm I was awakened from a 30 minute (old) duration nap to a loud shout of “He’s got the whole world, in His hands, He’s got the whole wide world, in His hands…” my phone ringtone at the time. A reassuring tune that God is “always” in charge and a constant reminder each time my phone rings. It was my dad calling. His voice was devoid of the conventional cheerfulness each time we spoke –red flag. He said “Emma, leave whatever you are doing and go to Ondo State now! find your way to a place called Ofosu, it is either before or after Ore. There has been an accident and we don’t know the severity of it”. While transiting from my sleepy state to an instant shock, I asked, which accident? Who’s in Ondo State? Because at the time, my older sister was in Gussau, Zamfara and my other siblings were in Abuja, Edo and Lagos. Then he said, “your sister’s husband was coming home from Lagos, your sister called and someone who identified himself as a Road Safety officer said there’s been an accident, come now to Ofosu, Ondo State and ended the call. The phone has remained unanswered since then. So go now.” I jumped from my couch and screamed Jesus! He screamed back and said “put yourself together! No matter what happens, don’t tell your sister or mother anything. Talk to me first.

I stepped out immediately and went to my friend’s place and we both set out to a somewhat unknown destination right under the rain. We spent the next five hours trying to locate the place, asking any and everyone who was nice enough to listen to two seemingly lost strangers at night. During this time, I never stopped hearing my reassuring ringtone, reminding me of how God has the whole wide world in his hands as my phone never stopped ringing. “You don reach di place? Where you dey now?” were the inquiries that bombarded my ears as I embarked on the longest journey of my life, not because it was actually that long, but because in addition to having no knowledge of my destination, I also did not know what awaits me, what awaits my family, what awaits my little nephew and niece, aged one and four at the time.

We eventually located a clinic that could best be described as a travesty at almost 11pm. The place was dark, no electricity, all I saw was a few candlelight. I was afraid of going inside, to face reality, afraid of finally having something to say to my family. I dialed his number as I went close to the entrance and I could hear that song by Prosper Ochimana “Ekueme” – that Eastern Gospel song with lyrics “You are the living God oh! Eze no one like you”. That was his ring tone at the time.

I rushed into the building and said that’s my brother’s phone, I came for him, where is he, is he okay? When the phone eventually stopped ringing, it already had about one hundred and seventy three missed (unanswered) calls. They asked me his name and I told them and they asked me to come with them. I turned on the flashlight of my phone, then I saw a couple of people on the mat/floor with injuries right at the makeshift reception which was a sitting room. My brother was not among them. My heartbeats increased at this point. Even though I was at the destination, I still didn’t know what awaits me. We walked through a small corridor into a room with a candlelight. There were four beds and one person on each. They asked me, “e dey here”? I flashed my light, he wasn’t there. We went to another room, a smaller room, with two beds, a candlelight and I soon recognized my brother. Na him bi dis, I said. He was alive, breathing but unconscious. I was happy, that kind of happiness that comes with celebrating a bad event because it wasn’t as bad as your imagination as pictured it. It wasn’t the worst, he was in a coma, it was bad, but he was breathing, he was alive and it was worth celebrating. I went close to him, touched him and said close to his ear, brother I am here, Emma is here. I am taking you home, you will be fine.

As instructed, I spoke to my dad first. He’s alive. “Oh thank God!” he said. But he is not conscious, he is not talking; he is not even aware I am here. “At least, he’s alive, breathing. The way the Road Safety officer sounded, I was expecting the worst. But this isn’t the worst, there is hope” my dad said in a loud tone, so everyone could hear, obviously to ease the tension that enveloped the house that night.

From that moment on, our effort was on getting an ambulance to get him to a real hospital so he can get the necessary assistance. This place wasn’t one. All they did was place everyone on drip and just wait for their relatives to turn up and pay a ransom to secure their release. There was this one time I saw them using a syringe to draw from a patient’s drip and injecting it in another patient’s empty container. There were a lot of scary practices. I stood beside him for the rest of the night, praying, hoping and receiving calls from those who were not there with us but were in greater pain. There were times when the sound of his breath would change and I would firmly grip his hand as though I was holding his soul from leaving his body. By morning we got an ambulance and headed for UBTH in Benin.

On our arrival that Sunday morning at the A&E ward, we were told there were neither stretchers no bed space; they eventually reappeared after a while and he was finally getting help. I was relieved. I feared the worst could happen the night I stood beside him and while inside the ambulance. I said all kinds of prayers. I remember asking God to take from the number of years allocated to me on earth and give them to my brother so we could have him with us a little longer; so his kids could know him. I kept telling God of how much of a good man he is, how great of a husband and impeccable father he is to his wife and infant kids respectively. How the accident happened simply because he did not want to miss going to church the next day, so he went to Ojota to get an alternative when the ones at Ogba had moved before he got there. How he loves God and enjoys doing His works. I sincerely and ceaselessly prayed! He was finally in a real medical facility, his wife, sisters and friends were by his bedside, it was a huge relief. Deep down, I believed God had answered my prayers. If he could survive that night at the ‘clinic’ and our ambulance drive to this place where he’s getting help and surrounded by friends and family, then the worst is over.

We have been here for five days and our experience at UBTH was another unpleasant one. There was this time we needed to carry out a brain scan and a couple of x-rays. We were told their equipment were bad and given a referral with the person’s name and mobile number to a private diagnostic center. We booked a private ambulance because theirs were also not functional and when we got back with the result, it took us two days before we could get someone take a look at them. The man that examined the test results told us there were no major damages, just bruises. He was oblivious of why he was still in a coma four days after the crash. My sister asked him what we could do, what the standard practice was in such situation. He told us that since they can’t fathom the reason for his lingering unconsciousness, our only option was to take him to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) where his organs will be aided by medical equipment to function better. He however reminded us that it’s quite an expensive option with a fifty percent survival chance; he described it as 50/50. We were ready to dive at any option that offered any amount of survival chance. For us at that point, anything is better than nothing at all. Before we could convey our approval for this option, he told us that the ICU was filled up to capacity. There was no space for any new patient. My sister asked when there will be space and he told us with a straight face “when somebody dies.”

A few minutes to 6am on Friday 3rd August 2018, I was awakened by a phone call from one of my brother’s friends who came the previous night to stay with them at the hospital. I was afraid to take the call. An ominous premonition occupied my entire being. “Emma, where are you, can you come to the hospital now?” were his exact words. I told him I had something planned out for that morning, that I’ll be with them later that day. He insisted that I come immediately, that my brother wasn’t doing so well; “please try and come now so we know what to do” then he dropped the call. I could sense that something was off. If there was anything that required my presence, my sister would have called. I was still trying to process what he said when he called again within few minutes. This time, the pain in his voice betrayed him when he called my name twice, silence interjecting each call… “Brother Peter is gone!” You said what, gone where? I asked him. I was immediately thrown into confusion because my brain refused to interpret the signals from my ears. “Brother Peter has left us, he’s gone!” Where is my sister? I asked immediately. “She outside, she does not know yet. That’s why you have to come quick.” He said and dropped the call.

I got to the hospital as fast as I could. I wept bitterly on my way there. My eyes were red, slightly swollen, it was easy to tell I have been crying. I had to put myself together before I got to where she was. I met her outside with my in-laws. They were praying. She saw me and with so much innocent ignorance asked what was wrong? Why my eyes were red? And why I was at the hospital that early when I told her the previous day I would be indisposed that morning. I just couldn’t look at her. I told her I had a rough night. I inquired why they were praying and she told me her husband has been finally moved to the ICU and she’s hopeful of a recovery. I almost started crying again. She spoke with so much faith not knowing that fate has dealt us a heavy blow. I left them and went inside. I saw my brother still on the same bed, covered up and stripped of all the oxygen mask, drip and other medical apparatus. He was cold, motionless and even though I stood beside him, he was gone. I came back outside, they were still praying. I had the intention of breaking the news but their enthusiasm weakened the nerves in my tongue. She inquired of him. I just told her they didn’t let me in as the place was out of bound to non-staff. I went to a corner and with tears in my eyes, I called my dad to break the news.

As the morning dew melted into noon with almost everyone outside the hospital aware of the situation we started receiving calls from all over and my sister became increasingly suspicious. This time, my brother has been moved to the reception at the morgue. My sister started to insist that she want to see her husband. We had made arrangement for a hearse to convey him to a morgue closer to his place of interment while still trying to pacify my sister that it was time to go home. By then everyone, the “prayer band” inclusive became aware of the tragedy but no one was bold or strong enough to tell my sister; we all believed that somehow she will find out, it was an unspoken understanding. She saw us going up and down and she heard vague snatches of side talks, then she started to scream repeatedly “my husband is not dead”.

The ride home was another long one. The emotion I felt cannot be described, only imagined. My sister kept insisting that her husband was not dead. Her assertion reminded me of Elizabeth Kubler-Ross in her analysis of the five stages of grief when one suffers a catastrophic loss. The first stage is denial, because the loss is so unthinkable, it becomes difficult to imagine it is true. My sister was stuck at this stage for a long time. When we got home, everyone was waiting outside. She jumped down from the car and rushed to my dad’s feet. “Daddy, my husband is not dead. Please let me take him to church, please just do this one thing for me”. My dad is quite firm and resolute and once he is convinced that something is not in your best interest, no amount of tears will placate him. But that day, I saw the kind of softness in him that I have never seen. He told her it is okay for her to go to church and pray if that is what she wants. He noted that sometimes it’s better to allow people express their emotions and explore all options so they don’t implode. She went to church with her sister in-law and I’m sure they cried to God all night long till the evening of the next day.

I think I went straight to the second stage of grief which is anger. I was angry at the driver who rammed the bus into a stationed truck and ended up with only a fractured leg. I was angry at the country for the bad roads and broken down facilities and systems. I was angry at the clinic that first handled him unprofessionally. I was angry at the hospital where he died, I believed they were at best ineffective. Most of all, I was angry at God! There was this one time someone on a condolence visit said God has a reason for everything and I was almost asking him to please tell me the reason so I could explain to my infant nephew and niece. I was angry and momentarily lost my faith in God. Why would God allow us to go through all that stress, waste resources, time and hope only for Him to allow the worst happen? My brother was a good man, he was too young and didn’t deserve to die that way and time. I believe my sister remained in the first stage until her husband was interred. Even though I was at the anger stage, I somehow hoped that my sister’s denial of reality weaved with her faith in God would birth a miracle. I hoped against hope. Few days later, while in a motorcade to his final destination for interment I realized that my sister’s stage one denial and my stage two anger were in vain and after watching sand being shoved on the casket where he slept, I skipped stage three and four and grudgingly arrived at the final stage of grief – acceptance.

Four months later, a day to Christmas, I had a dream about him. In the dream, it was as if he was alive and that all that have been happening was a dream. When I woke up, from my room, I heard my four years old niece repeatedly pray these words with so much emphasis – “my daddy will not die in Jesus’ name”. It broke me.

I have since learned that life will be unbearably dull if we have answers to all of life’s questions. So we must accept and endure that which cannot be changed or undone. My nephew and niece are growing up to be among the smartest kids I know. They most often call my dad “daddy” instead of grandpa they called him before. They were both born on the same day, three years apart and today, March 28th is the day.

So sorry for your loss. In life, there are things we can't hence we accept. It shall be well brother.

It's food that I want pls.

IyaTola:
Good morning!

Easter is a time to reflect and celebrate, but unfortunately many are not celebrating because of the situation of things.

I want to help atleast 10 people who have genuine reasons to be assisted.

You must provide evidence

Happy easter

It's food that I need.

To help me buy some food stuff for my children to put body and soul together.[color=#000099][/color]

Pls sir/ma. I want to nominate my late brother's wife.
She stays at Ogijo's suburb near Ikorodu. [color=#000099][/color]We lost her husband 4years ago. They have 4kids.
We support her a little way we could. If you need any other info about how to reach her will gladly provide it.

I also wants to nominate my husband. He lost his private teaching Job, life hasn't been rosy with us.

Thanks

I need food stuffs for my kids this season.
Location: Osun state.