₦airaland Forum

Biqsahm:
If u ever decide to write a story on d literature section pls mention me bro.

I no even sabi say that kind section dey for this NL. I will check it out one of these days.

Dzzzz:
We were asked to clean the underground water reservoir,only for me to find one nice 💩 at the corner..WTF goes down a reservoir and deposit 💩 like water we use for everything in the school..Our school is so big you can defecate anywhere so why go down a reservoir!!..Some people are born wicked..

And the person go dey among una dey complain too.

ItisWell22:
FGGC!

Which of the tales would one recount, and which can be left out?

But as you mentioned, it taught us time management even in the absence of a clock.

The part of begging the house prefect to let you pick your belt or socks. 😂
At some point, you just assemble all you would need close to a window. From the bathroom to the window, where you start from application of Vaseline to wearing the pant and bra, till being fully dressed.

The days you’re late, you know you’ve missed your meal. Some days you’re quite early, yet miss your meal. That taught some of us to let go of the meals, as it was more frustrating to be on the long queue only to be told the meal couldn’t get to everyone.

And when we became the most seniors, it was waking up late and being eventually chased about by the teachers themselves to leave the hostel, sometimes after receiving some strokes of the cane by the gate where the obesed senior boarding house mistress must have taken her seat.

It taught us to be tough despite being so innocent.
It was really tough in there.

The days of water scarcity that usually coincided with the hottest times of the year (like sey na juju)? 😩😪
You manage to get, a senior could take it away from you, or your fellow juniors or not so senior, tap it.

Too many tales… 🥱

Miss meal ke? That one didn't happen at my side sha. If you are late, na just punishment or flogging go end am, but your food dey intact.

StillDtruth:
Kai, boarding school, my former worsest part of my life, God don come change am to be like the bestest part of my life.

Ah boarding school finish me to the point that I discovered that to be too anything, bad, good, sharp, stupid is not good.

Then morning chores in the cold bush morning of sweeping or clearing grass from 5:30am to 6:30.

Breakfast was at 7:00. Then they served late so they moved it to 7:30. And it still collapsed, then they moved it to 9:00am. I won die by then me wey just discover say i like and respect food.

Ah boarding school will teach you that food is far more important than woman.

We called trading of food strike. One full plate of eba and draw soup for half plate of rice my favourite bargain on days when we eat eba in the afternoon and rice and stew at night.

Then Sunday worst day of my life. The most longest and boring day.

You go play ball tire for 10 hours and yet when you look at the time, the clock says it is only just past 10am.

You go sleep tire and the clock says it is only just past 12.

Then they allowed us to go to church Catholic, Anglican, Church of God Mission walking under the full and stern control of the prefect going to that church.

This is where you know the importance of having correct friends where you can duck and go to his house to fuel up (food) and cold water (By now you would have known the sweetness of unfreezered water to death so now you would know the value of a fridge and Nepa);

And reload, garri and groundnut, banana, kpo kpo garri, pear and home cooked food super hidden to be catapulted into the school.

So outing time entered. But the day still long and you find that you are still entering school latest 1:00 after all your time wasting.

Boarding will teach you the meaning of frustration and failure

Jollof rice and chicken is our Sunday meal but it comes at 2:00/2:30/3:00pm. No striking with this food

And in the evening one pitiful 2 piece yam and something that is supposed to be called stew thereby making this the hungriest day of my life.

Boarding school matter plenty o.

Biqsahm:
Bro, u write so well #respect#

Thanks!!!

We will soon this world for you guys. Make una kuku eat am.

Juliearth:
Please tell me this is purely fiction...

It is. Pulled from my imagination on a bored sunny Sunday.

Samueltemi337:
I remembered your thread about your imaginary brother and some nairaland wannabes were saying something similar happened to them
Something that was pure fiction
They just wanna feel among

Your point is

eepeepook:
One thousand plus words. If you don't drop a TLDR summation, I'll move to better things. I'm not paid for my time here.

Okay. Noted.

You can't be Elon Musk and be normal.

Paulscholari:
This is really cool for Nollywood. Bro Try protect your script

I don send am give Odunlade.

Foodqueen:
You again

I'm going through a lot.

Timytetobbs:
Fiction or Not!…You’re a good writer!

Thanks!!!

id4sho:
Your fiction is becoming stale. Weird stories always

No vex. I go unstale am.

I wouldn’t have called my late father’s number if I had known what was waiting for me on the other end. But as they say, curiosity killed the cat.

A Little Backstory...My dad died in 2020, just before the COVID-19 wave hit the world. But his was not a pandemic-related death, it was a car accident. One moment, he was coming back from work; the next, he was gone. We buried him less than a week later, and that was it. Life moved on… well, at least for everyone else.

For us, his wife and four children, were left to figure out how to exist in a world that no longer had him in it. But apart from the usual grief and occasional cries in the bathroom, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

One fateful day, I was scrolling through Twitter when I saw a tweet that MTN recycles old numbers and gives them to new users. The replies were filled with people confirming this horror.

My curiosity woke up from its long nap and stretched dramatically.

Wait a minute, what about my dad’s number? Nobody had touched his SIM since he died, and it wasn’t linked to any bank account, so I figured it must have been reassigned by now.

So, naturally, I did what any reasonable person would do. I dialed the number.

And, not to my surprise, it rang.

I chuckled. "MTN, well done. Anyway, let me wait for the person to pick up so I can tell them it was a wrong number before they start hunting me down trying to figure out who called."

But then they picked up. And the voice that said, "Hello" was... familiar. Too familiar.

It was my father’s voice.

I ended the call so fast, I nearly flung my phone across the room.

At this point, my whole body was vibrating like an overused tiger generator. But I’m a rational person (or so I told myself), so I turned to Google for answers. That was when I stumbled upon something called auditory pareidolia, basically, when your brain tricks you into hearing familiar voices in random sounds. That made sense.

So, I called the number again to prove to myself that I was just "pareidolia-ing" (yes, I just made that a word).

I called the number again.

This time, it was unreachable.

I tried the next day. Unreachable.

I tried for weeks. Still unreachable.

I even took things further, checked WhatsApp, Truecaller, every caller ID app I could find. Nothing. It was as if the number didn’t exist.

I didn’t tell anyone, because let’s be real, imagine explaining to your family that you think Dad’s ghost might have answered a phone call. I have been called weird enough, I don't want to add to it.

But then, around two months later, the knocking started.

At first, it was small. A knock here, a knock there. We assumed it was one of the neighborhood kids playing a prank (Even though that explanation makes no sense, as our neighbor doesn't have kids, and our house is fenced).

But soon, the knocks became frequent.

Morning. Afternoon. Evening. midnight.

It got to a point where nobody in the house could sleep properly.

The worst part is that whenever we opened the door, we saw nothing. No sound of footsteps running away, no neighbor pretending they weren’t involved. Just silence.

It became so frequent we had to call for intervention. CCTV cameras were installed. Nothing. We called in the uncles, the cousins, even the nosy neighbors, everybody investigated, nobody found anything.

It was when the knocks started happening inside the house that we knew it was time to carry our bags and go.

We called in spiritual reinforcements. The prayer warriors came with their holy water, anointing oil, and enough incense to suffocate a mosquito. They sprinkled, they prayed, they chanted, they burned things.

Finally, they said, “It is done. You can move back in.”

And because it was our only house, we had no choice but to believe them.

Thankfully, the knocking stopped.

But my curiosity didn't stop.

I didn’t think too much about any connection between a random phone call and the mysterious knocking on our door. After all, strange things happen every day.

So, I kept trying the number.

One fateful evening, the line rang again.

I had my script ready. The moment they picked, I would say, “Please, is this Mr. Felix?” (my dad’s name). If they said no, I’d apologize and move on. If they said yes…well, God abeg.

The person picked up. And before I could speak, I heard:

"Stop calling this number."

Not in English. Not in a strange voice. In my father’s exact tone and our local language.

Ah. Who sent me message?

I tried calling back immediately. Unreachable.

At this point, my brain was screaming “Let it go!”, but curiosity had already replaced my common sense.

That night, at around 2:12 AM, we heard sweeping in the compound.

First of all, who sweeps at that hour?

I turned to my mother. She turned to me. The unspoken agreement was clear: We must confirm what is going on.

We stepped outside. Nothing.

No person. No broom. No sound of footsteps. But the sweeping was loud and clear.

For months, this unseen housekeeper continued. Sweeping the compound. Sweeping the passage inside the house. And yet, somehow, the place never got cleaner, everything was the same except the sound of sweeping.

At this point, enough was enough.

We reached for the leftover incense from the first time. If it worked before, it must work again.

Despite all the warnings from the universe, I still wanted to know who was behind the voice.

So I still kept trying to reach the person, and finally, on November 21, 2024, the line rang again.

I opened my mouth to speak, but my tongue refused to move.

I tried again. Nothing.

The only thing I heard from the other end was “Bye.” In my dad’s voice.

The call ended.

From that day till now, my tongue has remained twisted. I have not been able to speak a single word.

I wrote everything down for my mother. We went to the MTN office, provided every document they asked for, hoping to track the person who answered the calls.

Their response was cold: “There has been no activity on this line since 2020.”

We have seen every doctor possible. Nothing. Nobody can explain why I cannot speak.

Our last hope is an appointment with a top doctor in India this August. Until then, all I can do is wait.

And most importantly, maybe never, ever call a dead man’s number again.

Lec25:
Wonderful piece.

Thanks boss. Have a wonderful day.

Makamatic:
Shuffering and shmiling

It's a way of life.

.

There’s a common saying among Nigerians: “chasing the bag.”

It’s like a remix of the classic "chase your dreams" motivational quotes.

Now, while "chasing" doesn’t necessarily mean running like Usain Bolt on a track, many believe that one day, they will miraculously catch the bag like a cat finally pouncing on a rat that has been mocking it for years.

To them, all they need is a working update or, as some call it, "format" that will teleport them from the trenches to soft life.

And truth be told, updates exist.

Maybe it’s a secret Instagram hack to get freelancing clients. Maybe it’s some software for draining a victim’s crypto wallet (we won’t say too much). Or maybe it’s just a philanthropist’s grant for small businesses.

But here’s the catch...these updates are guarded like Fort Knox. Those who have them treat them like ancestral secrets passed down from generation to generation. If you’re not in the inner circle, forget it. By the time the information reaches you, the update has expired like yesterday gala.

And then, the relay race starts again, you start scrambling for the next update.

The Problem With This Method

Imagine a village where almost every household owns a gun but has no food. Instead of hunting, everyone sits outside, waiting for manna from heaven.

Then, one day, one wise man actually picks up his gun and goes into the bush. Fortune smiles on him, he kills a big animal. Now, the whole village suddenly wants a share.

Of course, he has two options: Guard his meat with all his heart. Share it freely, knowing full well that tomorrow, they’ll be back begging again.

Between you and me, we both know he’s most likely choosing option one.

So, I ask you, why are you still folding your arms, waiting for another person to hunt for you?

The Better Option

Learn a skill.

Not how to hunt antelopes, but how to build something valuable.

I won’t tell you which skill to learn, that’s like telling someone the one food they must eat for life. But what I can tell you is that it takes a combination of skills to build wealth. But if your goal is just to be comfortable, maybe mastering one skill will do.

Look at the wealthiest people you’ve ever met.

They’re not just good at one thing; they’re world-class in a particular skill and at least above average in many others. Hard skills, soft skills, it doesn’t matter.

They have mastered their field like the back of their hand or, at least, the business side of their field.

You may say, some are lucky like the rich grandfather here, a government connection there. But even then, it takes skill to manage and grow wealth. Even staying in the good books of those in power, election after election, is not a game of luck; it is a game of skill.

So these people may not be the best coders, writers, or designers, but they have one crucial advantage: their skills are outcome-driven, not morality-driven.

And let’s not lie to ourselves, if the game is about chasing updates, some people are just better at it than you.

That’s why the person who brought the last update is more likely to get the next one before you. Because he has mastered the art of finding updates while you’re still sitting, waiting for someone to feed you.

So, instead of running in circles like a Wi-Fi router trying to connect, pick up a skill and build something that doesn’t expire

Or, you know, keep chasing updates. Just don’t be surprised when you’re still waiting for a "format" at 50.

Wakai777:
Me morning guys my name is Bleep am dack in complexion am a graduate of college,study biology chemistry.am approaching 23 pls guys I need your advice on what to to cause am confuse right now
I was thinking of
1.go for degree program
2.am expecting 250k so I was thinking to start a little business
Pls friends help me. Ur advice's are welcomed
Thank you.

I lost like 1 million brain cells trying to understand what you wrote. My conclusion is that you are trolling.

Boogyman557:
Holly Gram to me oo. I believe say person de quick come from YANNSH bcus i de quick come from YANNSH.

Na since this yr i start to NACK ASHAWO from YANNSH.

E de tight well well. Also remember the tighter the sweeter.

those young ASHAWO girls no get mind to tell u to COME QUICK.

unless u go carry those old mama or the ones of 30 to 35 yrs.

Those small ones de fear well well.

E get the small one way I NACK on January this yr. She tell me say, she gat see my PREEK to know the size of my PREEK B4 we enter room.

She say if my PREEK too big, she no go NACK with me .

As she check my PREEK, my PREEK na average size shar.

Naso we enter room. Bro that day was my 3rd day to NACK ASHAWO and make she come.

I believe she is new in the business.

Waiting I NACK this small girl. Bro if u see how she de drag her self comort from bed ehh. If u see how she come de breath, fear come de catch me. Until I noticed say she one release (COME).

Bro I hard to pay for another round with this girl. I no allow any other guy NACK her that day .

I remember i NACKED her from 8am till 11pm for night.

No be say we NACK from 8 to 11. I stayed in her room as soon as I come, so that my dick will rise again and we discuss a lot.

I come de whine her say I love her

Omo e be like say na me teach her how to SUK PREEK self..

The other rounds way we NACK, it was not easy. Cus I have to force my self inside of her.

Naso she de close TOTTO and shout.

Sometimes her sisters go come knock for door to check if der sister de alright.

Kai. I really enjoyed that girl. She later traveled and her number stopped going through

WTF MAN

Your life don morayo.

Leniroyal:
Interesting. I'm in. 2nd apostle here if we count the op as 1st.

Long live the chosen one

You are welcome to the fold.

Harry Potter has fans worldwide, no doubt. But why stop at fans when we can upgrade them to devoted followers? Yes, you heard me. What if we take the Harry Potter story and repackage it into a full-blown religion.

That was the theme of my dream overnight.

Don’t ask me why my brain is busy creating mythical movements while my real-life problems patiently wait their turn. But let’s ignore that and focus on the plan.

The plan is simple but long.

All you have to do is edit the story, rephrase some things, and boom, we have a faith-based movement.

Every instance of magic will be gone. It’s now the manifestation of the divine will. Wizards become Prophets. Parseltongue changes to speaking in tongues, that's obvious. And of course, Harry’s little resurrection stunt will become more significant, because if there’s one thing every great religion needs, it’s a comeback story.

The selection of Prophets will remain the same: they receive their calling through a special letter, delivered by the Holy Owl. Although we might need to alter the age, considering 11-year-olds are still struggling with basic life choices. And the fact that behind the scenes, there is no actual owl, instead, we will be recruiting jobless people to expand the ministry.

And the ultimate promise of this faith is a place called Hogwarts.

Hogwarts is now a paradise, a promised land beyond mortal reach.

It is the final resting place of the righteous, where believers will be assigned to one of four great houses, each overseen by a guardian angel formerly known as the Founder. Religion is the business of selling hope, and the hope here is a place at Hogwarts.

As for non-believers, well, they will end up in Azkaban, not a lake of fire, because we don’t want people saying we copied other religions. Instead, they will be tormented by the Dementors, not brimstone, but the quiet, gnawing sorrow of a life without purpose, which, when you think about it, is basically the same thing as being a poor person in a poor country.

Of course, every religion needs a great villain.

Thanks to JK Rowling's quick thinking, we have He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Voldemort is our Lucifer, except he is bald and somehow still doesn’t know when to give up. His followers will be modern-day demons. While we change his horcruxes to the seven temptations of mankind (or something deep like that).

And of course, we will look forward to the day Harry Potter will return to lead the charge for the Battle of Hogwarts 2.0.

Now, let’s talk about the holy text. Every religion has one: the Bible, the Quran, the Torah. Our own will be The Book of Spells (but we won’t call it that). That's too mundane and unoriginal. Instead, we’ll rebrand it as The Sacred Declarations of the Chosen One or maybe something shorter. We’ll say it was penned by St. Hermione, who, after all, became the Minister of Magic.

Now, here’s the thing: this is a long-term strategy.

Not 10 or 20 years. Patience is the virtue of the wise. (Wait, which philosopher said that?)

We’re talking at least 100 years before it starts making sense. And a solid 1,000 years (if humanity still exists) before we have millions, maybe billions of followers. By that time, the people who originally watched the movies will be long gone, and their great-grandchildren will have no idea this all started as fiction.

And don’t forget, just like in real religions, you are not the main character. You are just an apostle. Your job is to spread the word so the next generation can carry on the mission. You will not live to see the golden age of this faith, but your voice shall echo through generations.

Finally, we must address one last problem....Copyright.

You see, we can’t have future scholars Googling "Harry Potter" and finding out it was all written by one jobless, single mother, and living on state benefits author in the early 2000s. Worse still, we don’t want her children dragging us to court for "spiritual intellectual property theft."

So, at some point, we change all the names to something mysterious. And we may need to remove or add some plots and characters, just like the movie adaptations did.

And that, my dear reader, is how you start the Church of Hogwarts or whatever name we change it to.

But remember, patience is key, because true religious movements are not built in a day. If in doubt, just ask the people who started other major religions. They, too, had to wait.

Long live The Boy Who Lived.

melanch:
If you’ve truly read as much as you claim, you should already understand concepts like tax breaks (especially in abroad) and health insurance savings etc (for married couples). In fact, many smart men see financial growth after marriage - they work harder, knowing they have a family to support, build stronger connections, and secure a better future for their kids.

I’m sorry, but I won’t have time to respond further. Apologies, but this conversation feels like explaining basics to an adult who lacks real-world experience.

I'm not sure your brain can interpret this chart, so you can use AI.

melanch:
OP talks like someone who thinks like an incel, despite claiming to easily get sex with women. Those friends you asked why they got married if they could get the benefits of marriage without it—and who responded with silence—are just as confused as you are. It’s like the saying, “Show me your friends, and I’ll tell you who you are.”

Sometimes, you sound like someone who has faced repeated rejection and heartbreaks and, as a result, leans toward being anti-relationship and anti-marriage.

For your information, men get married for various reasons, and your perspective seems rather limited. Some intelligent men marry to build a family, take on responsibility, earn respect, find happiness, and feel fulfilled. In addition, many men choose marriage for the love and companionship it offers (as you have mentioned a million times here), the emotional security and support, the shared goals and dreams, the financial and legal benefits, life stage transition and even to honor cultural or familial traditions etc. I can go on and on!

I couldn’t care less if you stay single or even end up an incel for life—honestly, no one actually care. You say you read books, but I have no idea what kind you’re reading. Are they just reinforcing your narrow beliefs? Maybe it’s time to expand your perspective.


Although I couldn't finish reading your lengthy post, your final sentence suggested that you prefer to stay in your lane—yet it seems you’re not doing that. You appear to me to be searching for answers and are confused, which is why you woke up one morning and wrote this long epistle.

Just find something that makes you happy. It's your life and for real...this time...stay in your lane.

Financial and legal benefits?

I stopped reading your gibberish at that point.

FRANCISTOWN:
I'm sorry but I really don't understand your question.
It's like asking how do you get food?
Sex is easier to get than companionship.
It is very easy to get sex than to even get a girlfriend.
Just have a place to have sex, though you may not get the 7-10 girls but you'll definitely get the 4,5,6 girls.
I read a particular book one time like that that changed my perspective about the female personality.
Do you even know that girls want sex more than boys. If a woman liked you so much, the first thing she'll give to you is sex.
When some men are struggling to get sex, some men are running from it.

And by the way, sex is overrated. There is no big deal. There is no award for a man who has the highest sex partners, focus on other important things.

You have time to reply to him.

haybhi1:
Good. But how do you get sex?

Skill issue.

WhiteBalaclava:
Your diction is flawless

Na diction matter meet you?

The brain is a powerful thing, but if there’s one thing it does exceptionally well, it’s pattern recognition. And my brain has caught one pattern:

The moment I tell people, especially ladies, that I don’t have a girlfriend, suddenly, I’m a prime suspect in a crime I didn’t commit.

They squint. They analyze. They conclude.

"He's lying."

First, they hit me with the "You dey whine?" face. Then comes the interrogation, like DSS officers.

"You mean to tell me a full-grown man, with no physical disability, no obvious deformity, is single?" Clearly, I must be hiding something.

And just like that, they slap an invisible stamp on my forehead: “LIAR.”

But as the conversation enters the "why" department, I drop my answer like a well-aimed penalty: "I don’t see the need to have a girlfriend."

This answer does things to people. One lady even suspected I was a card-carrying member of the rainbow fraternity (you know what I mean). I had to prove to her, emphatically, might I add, that her assumption was a terrible miscalculation.

You see, since childhood, relationships have never been my priority.

I like different girls at the same time, so the idea of sticking to just one felt like voluntary imprisonment.

People told me I’d outgrow this mindset. Fast forward to today, and my belief is still standing strong like Olumo Rock. Maybe growing up has another meaning I’m yet to download.

In fact, after reading about the history of marriage, my stance has even upgraded to Version 2.0.

Whenever I meet guys who are deep in the trenches of relationships, I ask them one simple question:

"Mention one thing you gain from your relationship that you can’t get outside of it."

This question is specific for men, because I'm a man and I can't speak for women's POV.

Crickets. Silence. System malfunction. I could almost see the loading spinner on their face.

Most of them struggle like JAMB candidates in the exam hall. And after a painful loading period, they finally manage to say:

"Companionship."

LOL. Be serious. Ask them to explain further, and it’s as if you just unplugged their brain from light.

Let me give you a life hack: If you need companionship, get a dog. Dogs are loyal, obedient, and won’t stress your mental health. Unlike certain people, they won’t randomly text you "We need to talk."

But let’s be honest: when guys say companionship, what they mean is “consistent access to sex.” They just don’t want to admit it because it makes their girlfriend sound like… well, you get the point. Now it seems some girlfriend have caught up already, and they drafted the "No sex till marriage" policy.

Fun fact: Men have been getting both sex and companionship since the dawn of time without a romantic relationship or marriage. And they will continue to do so until the end of time.

If you think otherwise, I regret to inform you: skill issue.

Now, this doesn’t mean marriage is useless. In fact, marriage is very important, unless you’re getting married for love. Because love is a beautifully fabricated concept by the wedding industry.

Let’s rewind.

The first recorded history of marriage appeared in Mesopotamia (modern-day Iraq) about 5,000 years ago. It later spread to ancient Egypt, where women held 50% of the couple’s possessions and even had the right to initiate divorce.

Then came the Greeks and Romans, where marriage was known as Conubium, a contract for political alliances and maintaining social order. Whether the couple was emotionally or sexually compatible is irrelevant. The main assignment was to enter the room and "sire" a male child to inherit the family name.

What's more? The legal age of marriage back then was 12 for girls and 14 for boys.

Did you hear any mention of "romantic love" in that brief history of marriage? Nope. Because it didn’t exist in marriage until the 18th century, when Europe entered the Age of Enlightenment. That’s also when capitalism started rising. Maybe that's just a Coincidence, though.

But marketers must market; they sold us the walk 10,000 steps per day gimmick now like they sold your 'soulmate" myth then.

Think about it, a single person will buy a mattress, and be okay with life. A married couple will buy a whole king-size bed, two pillows, scented candles, matching pajamas, and a fridge full of ice cream.

That’s why, as people started realizing that the only soulmate is the hairstyling cream, divorce rates skyrocketed in the 20th century.

And yet, today, people are still getting married for love, even though they can get love without getting married.

Quite the irony, right?

If you want to be in a relationship, that’s fine. If you want to get married, enjoy yourself. But just know that love isn’t the strong foundation you think it is; it’s just another product someone sold you.

As for me? I will be on my lane. Making no noise, and pretending I don't exist.

D111:
Stupid story, iPhone in 2013

Congratulations. You have embarrassed yourself in public. If this were in the 18th century, you would have been banished from your community.

SKhanmi:
https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/s/grlEELZqFt

That’s just one link. There are other variants of that story flying around. I’m sure I can find the exact template you copied and rephrased.

By the way, you can ch o ke on your imaginary 50k, boy

Coming here to drop fake ass stories, same like that other guy manifesting ufos at will.

Your comprehension naivety is not admirable. Your brain is powered by a single cell.