₦airaland Forum

Marvieduke:
You were asked to slap one person among the the listed people to earn money

Slap pastor 2 billion naira
Slap uncle or auntie 4 billion naira
Slap sister or brother 6 billion naira
Slap babe or guy 10 billion naira

Who will you slap

Nothing.I don’t give my money to anyone.

Makavelli001:
*"I Lost My Husband the Day We Arrived In Canada."*

That was what I told my mother when she asked why I hadn’t called to tell her we had settled in.

It wasn’t that he had died—no, death would have been easier.

He was right there, breathing, moving, eating.

But the man I married, the one who promised to love and cherish me, had disappeared the moment we stepped foot on the foreign soil.

It had always been our dream to relocate.

Canada was the promised land, a place where we could build a better life for ourselves and our children.

We spent years saving, applying, and praying for this moment.

When my husband, Tunde, finally secured his visa, we celebrated like we had won the lottery.

"This is it, Lara! We’ve made it!" he had said, lifting me in his arms as we danced around our tiny living room in Lagos.

But no one warned me.

No one told me that moving abroad was not just about packing bags and boarding a plane.

No one told me that marriages were buried in the cold foreign soil, that the man you married in Nigeria could become unrecognizable within months.

It started with little things.

At first, Tunde was frustrated.

Back home, he had been an executive at a bank, respected, and admired.

But in Canada, no one cared about his title.

His degree meant nothing here.

He was just another immigrant with no "Canadian experience."

"I can't be doing these menial jobs, Lara.

Me, a whole branch manager, working in a warehouse? It’s embarrassing."

So he sat at home, waiting for a miracle, while I took the first job I could find—cleaning offices at night.

I worked like a machine, scrubbing floors while my husband scrolled endlessly through job postings, rejecting anything he thought was beneath him.

Then the blame started.

"If you had just stayed home instead of insisting on coming here, we wouldn’t be suffering like this!"

"You think you’re better than me now because you’re earning in dollars?"

When he wasn’t blaming me, he was out.

At first, he said he was networking, meeting with "contacts."

Then, he stopped bothering with excuses.

He would leave the house in the afternoon and return the next morning, smelling of alcohol and cheap perfume.

The first time I asked him where he had been, he laughed.

"Are you my mother?"

The second time, he slapped me.

That was the day I realized my husband was gone.

He stopped caring about the home.

Bills were my problem.

The children became my responsibility.

He was just a guest in our house, showing up when he pleased, acting like we didn’t exist.

Then I found out about her.

A younger woman, a fellow immigrant, but one who had adapted quickly.

She had a car, a better job, and most importantly, she had no responsibilities.

No nagging wife, no crying children.

Just fun and freedom.

I confronted him, hoping—foolishly

—that he would deny it, that he would at least pretend to feel ashamed.

But he just shrugged.

"Lara, you’re stressing me.

This is how things are here.

Women abroad don’t disturb their husbands like this.

You need to adjust."

Adjust?

To what? A marriage that had become a prison?

A husband who had turned into a stranger?

I tried. For the sake of my vows, for the sake of the life we had built. I prayed. I fasted. I begged.

But you cannot hold on to a man who has already let go.

The final straw came when I found out he had stopped paying rent.

I had been sending him money every month, trusting him to take care of it while I focused on our savings.

But he had been spending it elsewhere—on her.

When the eviction notice came, he didn’t even pretend to care.

"You’re the one working, aren’t you? Fix it."

That night, I packed his bags.

When he came home, I pointed to the door.

"Leave, Tunde."

For the first time in months, he looked shocked.

"You can’t throw me out. I’m your husband!"

"No, Tunde. My husband is dead.

You killed him."

He stared at me, and for a moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes.

Regret? Shame? Maybe.

But it was too late.

He left. And I didn’t cry.

Because I had already mourned him long before that night.

So, if you ever dream of relocating, dream carefully.

Because sometimes, the plane ticket isn’t just taking you to a new country—it’s taking your marriage to its grave.

Looking back, I realize that things might have turned out differently if we had truly prepared for what relocation would mean for our marriage.

First, Tunde needed to be mentally prepared for the reality of starting over.

Many Nigerian men struggle abroad because they are used to a system where their status as providers is tied to respect.

When that status is stripped away, they feel lost and insecure.

If he had humbled himself and taken whatever job was available, even if it wasn’t what he wanted, it would have kept him engaged and given him a sense of purpose.

Second, we should have prioritized communication and teamwork.

Marriage is a partnership, especially in a new country where both partners must adjust.

If Tunde had seen me as his ally instead of his competition, we could have faced our struggles together instead of allowing resentment to build between us.

And finally, we should have set clear expectations before we moved.

Many couples relocate without discussing their roles, financial responsibilities, and the changes that might come with a new culture.

If we had talked about these things openly before leaving Nigeria, maybe we would have been able to navigate the transition better.

Relocation doesn’t have to be the death of a marriage, but it requires humility, patience, and a willingness to adapt.

Without those things, no matter how strong the love was at the beginning, the marriage may not survive the journey.

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#AbroadLife #ForeignLand #Foreigners
#FBLifestyle

It wasn’t strong love — it was strong passion, and passion is temporary.
Your husband — your ex-husband — was, above all, a lazy and inferior man.
A man weak in character.
This has nothing to do with Canada.
He was the same in Nigeria.
Canada only sped up the process of decay and revealed the truth.

I don’t judge you for making the wrong choice. It happens.
It happened to me too.
You gave everything you could.
He gave nothing.

I congratulate you on having the strength to cut it off.
I dragged it on for a long time and endured it until my children grew up.
Only then did I do what you did.

I’m ashamed to even read such nonsense.
Any somewhat mature man would understand what this is about.
I’m not saying that a bunch of fools won’t try it — the media is full of all kinds of idiots giving you advice on how to ruin your relationship, your marriage, and yourself.

Kobojunkie:
1. If love is passion and passion expires, then why remain with someone whom you know you have no passion for?

2. If love were merely attention, then there would be no such thing as getting attention for the wrong reasons, would there? There are people out there who have a passion for that which will eventually kill them... drugs, alcohol, etc. Does love kill?

Love is not attention, and love is more than mere passion. It is more than that dopamine high one gets when one gets attention or is passionate about something. Otherwise, it is no different from the many temporary highs one experiences in life.

3. And if that girl leaves you, then what? If you fancy a relationship as some sort of cage with which to trap yourself and the others in it with you, then you are already off on the wrong path.

You have to distinguish infatuation from love.
Infatuation is passion, and it lasts for three years.

fattprince:
Omo I'm in such dilemma now. There's this lady I like on our street, she is very pretty and a new entrant in the street. The first day I saw her was at a small store, she was there when I came so as I asked for what I wanted to buy she looked at me and continue to stare till I almost got uncomfortable. I wasn't sure if that was an attraction tho I felt it was(like 60%). Then I met another lady that came later to our street in the same house with the first one. The first day I saw that one I was 80% sure she likes me with the way she acted. I asked the second one out she agreed and we started dating until later when we were talking and the talk entered the first lady matter. The lady that likes me that we are dating now, mistakenly told me that the first one is crushing on me. The reason why I asked the second one out was because I was just sure she likes me and the first one if I ask her out and she turn me down, I would have blown my chances with the second one. But now I really don't think I love the second one though and she's already thinking of marriage and having children with me but I still continue to indulge her maybe I might change my mind later to love her.

You’re young. I don’t even know if it’s worth telling you this.
But I’ll tell you what I would do if I were in your place.

I would stay with my current girlfriend.

Here’s why:
Falling in love is just passion — and passion has an expiration date.
Love is a conscious decision to care for someone.

The shortest definition of love:
LOVE IS ATTENTION.

So, whether you’ll love that girl or not depends entirely on your conscious choice.
Everything else is passion — it burns hot, but it burns out fast.

And one more thing:
If you leave your current girlfriend, you’ll lose her forever.
A new girl comes with no guarantees. The fact that she’s in love with you — that passion — doesn’t mean things will be better with her.
If you want to take that risk, remember this: every gambler loses everything — sooner or later.

The choice is yours alone.

Right

Kobojunkie:
Nonsense and eegridient! Are you sure you are OK?

OP will never be happy with a girl he settles for. Nobody out there ever is. F-k all those tales by moonlight stories your ancestors fed you about how you should marry a woman who loves you more than you love her. The fact and reality of things is that such unions never work for the happiness of those who make such compromises. If you are not the one in love with your partner, you will never find happiness in that union, try as you may.

Okay.

Unclebayo:
Hey guys…

Why did we always go with the girls that don’t care about us and leave the ones that has pure heart for us.

A man sent 250k to a lady and she replied with seen and same man sent launch to another lady and the girl wrote a long epistles thanking him and appreciating the love..

But guess what the man will still go with the one that wrote seen..

I’m currently in the show that’s why I don’t blame him… I know a girl that loves me so much but I don’t have feelings for her and I still don’t knows why, this girl can do anything for me to survive Yet I’m not even replying her messages.

Why ? 😢

Because you’re stupid.
It’s your ego. You’re letting your ego control you.
If the girl who truly loves you isn’t extremely unattractive, then there’s absolutely no reason to reject her and chase after someone else — someone with whom, I guarantee you, you’ll never be happy, even if she agrees to be with you.
Take my words very seriously.

An independent woman. What does that even mean?
It’s complete nonsense. It’s idiotic to even talk about that topic.
Any of those so-called “independent women” — I could instantly put them into one of the fairly common situations from my own life and watch them cry helplessly.

This whole story about feminism and “strong women” is the biggest stupidity imaginable — something only women could believe.

Come on, here’s an example:
Find the best-priced mechanic and a pair of rear brake discs for your car, and get it all done without being ripped off.
Then find a butterfly board that’s nowhere to be found — and buy it for half the price.
Go, earn money, save it, manage it.
Money. Property. Can you?
Sure — but maybe 3% of women can do that.

The other 97% are desperate.
And those 3% don’t even have partners.

Remember that story about that woman with a chicken farm, bragging about it?
Looking for a husband, setting all sorts of conditions, God knows what.
We all laughed.

The feeling is that both you and she could get shot. That’s a 50% feeling — because of the attempt.
So yes, quite a strong feeling.
The second feeling is of severe bodily injuries inflicted with a blunt object — chances 80%, again because of the attempt.
The third feeling is that you’ll become the new husband and end up exactly the same way as the first one.
I don’t do things like that. I’ve never done anything like that. No. I’m not going to do something like that. I don’t even see a reason why I would.