So science don make labour easier and some women still dey talk say dem wan wait till the pain become unbearable.







#IGiveUp

By the way, people like @TahariX nai boyfriend they beat for house, and she will still be like " leave him, i love him, na you him slap?"

Guy: baby, come cook for me na.
Girl: am i your wife?


Guy: baby I'm h¤rny, come to the house.
Girl: ok baby, give me 15 minutes.

When I was a small boy, I was adopted. I grew up
remembering nothing of my birth family and unaware that I
had a biological sister, named Betsy. Many years later, I went in search of my biological family, but for Betsy it was too late: she had died.
This is the story of how I was reunited with her — in Heaven.
Before I start, I should explain that I am a scientist, who has
spent a lifetime studying the workings of the brain.
My adoptive father was a neurosurgeon and I followed his
path, becoming an neurosurgeon myself and an academic who taught brain science at Harvard Medical School.
Although nominally a Christian, I was sceptical when patients described spiritual experiences to me.
My knowledge of the brain made me quite sure that out-of-
body experiences, angelic encounters and the like were
hallucinations, brought on when the brain suffered a trauma.
And then, in the most dramatic circumstances possible, I
discovered proof that I was wrong. Six years ago, I woke up
one morning with a searing headache. Within a few hours, I
went into a coma: my neocortex, the part of the brain that
handles all the thought processes making us human, had shut
down completely.
At the time, I was working at Lynchburg General Hospital in
Virginia, and I was rushed to the emergency room there. The
doctors ascertained that I had contracted meningitis — a rare
bacterial strain of E coli was in my spinal fluid and eating into my brain like acid. My survival chances were near zero.
I was in deep coma, a vegetative state, and all the higher
functions of my brain were offline. Scans showed no
conscious activity whatever — my brain was not malfunctioning, it was completely unplugged.
But my inner self still existed, in defiance of all the known
laws of science.
For seven days, as I lay in that unresponsive coma, my
consciousness went on a voyage through a series of realms,
each one more extraordinary than the last — a journey
beyond the physical world and one that, until then, I would
certainly have dismissed as impossible.
For thousands of years, ordinary people as well as shamans
and mystics have described brief, wonderful glimpses of
ethereal realms. I’m not the first person to have discovered
that consciousness exists beyond the body.
What is unique in my case is that I am, as far as scientific
records show, the only person to have travelled to this
heavenly dimension with the cortex in complete shut-down,
while under minute observation throughout.
There are medical records for every minute of my coma, and
none of them show any indication of brain activity. In other
words, as far as neuroscience can say, my journey was not
something happening inside my head.
Plenty of scientists have a lot of difficulty with this statement.
My experience undermines their whole belief system. But the one place I have found ready acceptance is in church, where my story often tallies with people’s expectations.
Even the deep notes of the church organ and the glorious
colours of the stained glass seem to echo faintly the sights and sounds of Heaven.


Here, then, is what I experienced: my map of Heaven.
After the blinding headache, when I had slipped into the
coma, I gradually became aware of being in a primitive,
primordial state that felt like being buried in earth. It was, however, not ordinary earth, for all around me i sensed, and sometimes heard and saw, other entities.

It was partly horrific, partly comforting and familiar: I felt
like I had always been part of this primal murk.
I am often asked, ‘Was this hell?’ but I don’t think it was — I would expect hell to be at least a little bit interactive, and this was a completely passive experience.

I had forgotten what it was even to be human, but one
important part of my personality was still hard at work: I had a sense of curiosity. I would ask, ‘Who? What? Where?’ and there was never a flicker of response.

After an expanse of time had passed, though I can’t begin to
guess how long, a light came slowly down from above,
throwing off marvellous filaments of living silver and golden effulgence.

It was a circular entity, emitting a beautiful, heavenly music
that I called the Spinning Melody. The light opened up like a
rip in the fabric of that coarse realm, and I felt myself going
through the rip, up into a valley full of lush and fertile
greenery, where waterfalls flowed into crystal pools.
There were clouds, like marshmallow puffs of pink and white.
Behind them, the sky was a rich blue-black. This world was not vague. It was deeply, piercingly alive, and as vivid as the aroma of fried chicken, as dazzling as the glint of sunlight off the metalwork of a car, and as startling as the
impact of first love.

I know perfectly well how crazy my account sounds, and I
sympathise with those who cannot accept it. Like a lot of
things in life, it sounds pretty far-fetched till you experience it yourself.

There were trees, fields, animals and people. There was water, too, flowing in rivers or descending as rain. Mists rose from the pulsing surfaces of these waters, and fish glided beneath them.
Like the earth, the water was deeply familiar. It was as though all the most beautiful waterscapes I ever saw on earth had been beautiful precisely because they were reminding me of this living water. My gaze wanted to travel into it, deeper and deeper.
This water seemed higher, and more pure than anything I had experienced before, as if it was somehow closer to the original source.

I had stood and admired oceans and rivers across America,
from Carolina beaches to west coast streams, but suddenly
they all seemed to be lesser versions, little brothers and sisters of this living water.
That’s not to denigrate the seas and lakes and thunderstorms
that I’ve marvelled at throughout my life. It is simply to say
that I now see all the earth’s waters in a new perspective, just as I see all natural beauties in a new way.

In Heaven, everything is more real — less dense, yet at the
same time more intense.
Heaven is as vast, various and populated as earth is ... in fact, infinitely more so. But in all this vast variety, there is not that sense of otherness that characterises our world, where each thing is alone by itself and has nothing directly to do with the other things around it.
Nothing is isolated in Heaven. Nothing is alienated. Nothing
is disconnected. Everything is one.

I found myself as a speck of awareness on a butterfly wing,
among pulsing swarms of millions of other butterflies. I
witnessed stunning blue-black velvety skies filled with
swooping orbs of golden light, angelic choirs leaving
sparkling trails against the billowing clouds.
Those choirs produced hymns and anthems far beyond
anything I had ever encountered on earth. The sound was
colossal: an echoing chant that seemed to soak me without
making me wet.

All my senses had blended. Seeing and hearing were not
separate functions. It was as if I could hear the grace and
elegance of the airborne creatures, and see the spectacular
music that burst out of them.
Even before I began to wonder who or what they were, I
understood that they made the music because they could not
contain it. It was the sound of sheer joy. They could no more
hold it in than you could fill your lungs and never breathe out.

Simply to experience the music was to join in with it. That
was the oneness of Heaven — to hear a sound was to be part
of it. Everything was connected to everything else, like the
infinitely complex swirls on a Persian carpet or a butterfly’s
wing. And I was flying on that carpet, riding on that wing.

Above the sky, there was a vast array of larger universes that i came to call an ‘over-sphere’, and I ascended until I reached the Core, that deepest sanctuary of the Divine — infinite inky blackness, filled to overflowing with indescribable, unconditional love.

There I encountered the infinitely powerful, all-knowing deity whom I later called Om, because of the sound that vibrated through that realm. I learned lessons there of a depth and beauty entirely beyond my capacity to explain.
During this voyage, I had a guide. She was an extraordinarily beautiful woman who first appeared as I rode, as that speck of awareness, on the wing of that butterfly.
I’d never seen this woman before. I didn’t know who she was. Yet her presence was enough to heal my heart, to make me whole in a way I’d never known was possible. Her face was unforgettable. Her eyes were deep blue, and her cheekbones were high. Her face was surrounded by a frame of honey- brown hair.

She wore a smock, like a peasant’s, woven from sheer colour — indigo, powder-blue and pastel shades of orange and peach. When she looked at me, I felt such an abundance of emotion that, if nothing good had ever happened to me before, the whole of my life would have been worth living for that expression in her eyes alone.

It was not romantic love. It was not friendship. It was far
beyond all the different compartments of love we have on
earth. Without actually speaking, she let me know that I was
loved and cared for beyond measure and that the universe was a vaster, better, and more beautiful place than I could ever have dreamed.

I was an irreplaceable part of the whole (like all of us), and all the sadness and fear I had ever suffered was a result of my somehow having forgotten this most central of facts.

Her message went through me like a breath of wind. It’s hard to put it into words, but the essence was this: ‘You are loved and cherished, dearly, for ever. You have nothing to fear.

There is nothing you can do wrong.’

It was, then, an utterly wonderful experience.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, I had been in my coma for seven
days and showing no signs of improvement. The doctors were just deciding whether to continue with life support, when i suddenly regained consciousness. My eyes just popped open, and I was back. I had no memories of my earthly life, but knew full well where I had been.

I had to relearn everything: who, what, and where I was. Over days, then weeks, like a gently falling snow, my old, earthly knowledge came back.

Words and language returned within hours and days. With the love and gentle coaxing of my family and friends, other
memories emerged.
By eight weeks, my prior knowledge of science, including the experiences and learning from more than two decades spent as a neurosurgeon in teaching hospitals, returned completely.

That full recovery remains a miracle without any explanation from modern medicine.

But I was a different person from the one I had been. The
things I had seen and experienced while gone from my body
did not fade away, as dreams and hallucinations do. They
stayed.
Above all, that image of the woman on the butterfly wing
haunted me.

And then, four months after coming out of my coma, I
received a picture in the mail.

As a result of my earlier investigations to make contact with
my biological family, a relative had sent me a photograph of
my sister Betsy — the sister I’d never known.
The shock of recognition was total. This was the face of the
woman on the butterfly wing.
The moment I realised this, something crystallised inside me.

That photo was the confirmation that I’d needed. This was
proof, beyond reproach, of the objective reality of my
experience.

From then on, I was back in the old, earthly world I’d left
behind before my coma struck, but as a genuinely new person.

I had been reborn.


Extracted from Map of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon Explores
the Mysteries of the Afterlife & The Truth About What
Lies Beyond by Dr Eben Alexander

lilprinze: Why are they talking about arresting TB Joshua shouldn't they be talking about arresting the engineers and person in charge of procurement,
they want to arrest him as if he was the one who built it.

who owns the building? Who paid their salaries. You be big mumu

mimiy05:
watch what you say....u dey there when im sign contract with satan?? if God say may u bring evidence come defend wetin u just talk..u fit??
some Nigerians be acting like na dem holy pass since 1914

you dey deir wen god call am? Nigerians acting like the devil can't heal since 1963

mimiy05:
you almost sound like one of the thieves who was crucified with Jesus that said "if you truly are the son of God, why don't you save your self"...my dear visions are from God and maybe God didnt want to show him this one...even if God did...maybe there was nothing he could do. This man is a human being like all of us...i don't attend scoan, neither am i defending anyone..i only live by the principle.."judge not so that ye shall not be judged in return"

shatup

Fake men of god slapping girls since 1960.

I'm still thinking.

Tundeiab: brother, Obama has an African root, Kenya to be precise. Make your findings.

Bleep african root, he's AMERICAN.

Tundeiab: Bro, your statement is unafrican. Africans who Obama happens to be look out for their siblings.

I believe you were brought like that. Why is it that you are allowing the western culture steal away that care we have inherent in us as Africans?

and how is obama african? We africans too like to claim people. Chiwetel ejiorfor says he's british, Nigerians 1 kill themselves. Obama is American. Plain and simple. AMERICAN. Kenyan man go fit become president for america?

Trying to imagine it.






















6hrs later.













Still can't picture it

HMmmm

I go still fit dub.
Na 2 just write d answer 4 d side of d cap

1) Personally, I'd love to see the look on a suicide bombers face as he is presented with the reward of 72 virgins, whilst at the same moment realising the consequences of blowing his cock off.

2) I just don't get Al Qaeda.
Anyone motivated by the promise of sex with 72 virgins, clearly hasn't had sex with ONE virgin. All that wriggling, bleeding and crying. Plus you've got all that running just to catch one.

3) I can understand why Muslims are so highly motivated to carry out terrorist attacks, they are promised 72 virgins when they go to heaven. A fine reward, I'm sure we'll all agree.
But for those virgins... heaven isn't exactly what
they expected is it?
"You be a good little girl, you must always wear a burka, you must always wear a veil. You may not go to school, you may not get a job, you may not learn to read, you may not vote, drive, dance, play games or listen to music. You must live a life of absolute humility and celibacy. Then when you die you will go to heaven.......where you will be raped by evil terrorists and be their sex slave for the rest of eternity."

4) Tonight there are 72 virgins saying, "Oh, hell no!"

5) 72 Virgins dating service for Muslims. The relationship is
up to you, we just arrange the meeting. Allah Akbar….

6) I don't know why these Muslims keep saying they're
against gambling. Blowing yourself up for the promise of rivers of milk and honey, and some rather vague references to 72 virgins, seems a pretty big gamble to me.

7) What happens if a Muslim dies of ebola? Well, he doesn't get his 72 virgins.

What the martyred Muslims didn't realize, was that the 72 virgins were supposed to be shared between all of them.

9) Hamas have realised that the 72 hour ceasefire was nothing compared to the 72 virgins they've been promised!

10) I know i'll probably get banned from religion section till 2072.

omenka: Take your hate, shove it down your throat and choke on it.

#HonestAdvice


@post. It was all good.......... then crude oil happened!!!!!!

and how am i hating? I'm sure i saw Obj's picture there, awolowo, some Oba's, etc

and the op was like General Buhari? Lemme put a stallion of integrity and honesty.

FV.CK YOU.

DecemberIV:

Bros an educated person will present evidence that general buhari is not a stallion of honesty instead, so we can know its a lie.

an also, an educated person would prove that general buhari is a stallion of integrity and honesty. Out of all the pictures there, the op deemed it fit to put "a stallion of integrity and honesty" on buhari's picture alone.
Wurbish.

Wetin we 1 use d money do?
Abeg give am to country wey fit use am do beta tin.

There was a country.






But op, wad up wit dat buwahaahahari pishure, sup with the stallion of integrity and honesty bullcrap?

Wurbish

Pipsland78: "You shall not make any cuts on your body for the dead or tattoo yourselves: I am the LORD." - Lev 19: 28

FOR THE DEAD.

oluwadanie1:

Unilorin ryt? Am really missing dat aspect, the WIFI
Btw didn't u go home 4 holiday??

only uniLorin get free wifi? Mtschweeeeeee

SPITS ON EBOLA

jericco1:

if to say sexki.... dey

that's why we ban am to NAF

Don't worry guys, america would soon find proof

delishpot:

Lol. Ehen, so you still get human sympathy be that o. Ok. Na as you say "cool" for human beings wey die in such violent manner naim make I say make I jab you one.

people die everyday, its nothing new.

tpia1: Op why the thread.

i saw the hashtag on twitter with really cool replies. Thought it would be fun to know why some of us are still single.

How many times we go see this picture for front page?

Let me start.:

#imsinglebecause people are confusing as Bleep, I'm never good enough, and the person I like never likes me back

Just tell us the reason you're single using the hashtag

#imsinglebecause