I also need information on this issue

More pictures.....................

More pictures .................

Lanoise, born in Haiti, started gaining weight aged 16, following the birth of her
first daughter, Witelane. I used to be skinny but after I had my first baby I got so big.' she told Asiantown.net. As her weight skyrocketed to more than 600 lbs, she spent her days sitting in bed wrapped in sheets as she couldn't find clothes to fit. She first came to the media's attention in 2010 when she was forced to stay in Haiti for three months after the earthquake, because she was too heavy for commercial airlines. she was virtually housebound for almost two decades with her daughters washing, feeding and caring for her. She died in March, after being given less than a year to live by doctor's who had been waiting to give her potentially life- saving stomach surgery.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2243659/Documentary-charts-12-months-life-625lb-mother-ate-death.html

Cute boys...............

Playing wife with no husband? You have
nothing to gain, but everything to lose.
This will be a very raw article in which the truth is more important than spared feelings or sugar coated realities. You see, as a woman, I’ve realized the dangers of being a person who hates truth and lives a lie. Unfortunately, there are many ladies, ourselves included, who are living lies and rejecting truth even though it has been living a lie that has caused us the most sorrows. Most of us have gotten this whole relationship thing wrong, so wrong that our relationships look no different from marriage. In essence, about 70% of black women are single, but probably at least 40% of those women are still playing house. I ask you, does it make sense to perform wifely duties if technically, we have no husband? How is your boyfriend your hubby? As black relationships and marriages continue to decline, I have seen a frantic surge of desperation in my sisters. Now, I love you all because I love my people, but we are not, nor have we ever been a website aimed for preaching to the choir.
What good has that ever served?
But back to the surge of desperation…it is this desperation that has many single black women referring to their mere boyfriends as hubbies. Now this premature label does hold power, and no, it is not harmless. As we begin to call our boyfriends our hubbies, we begin to act like wives. We’re shacking
up with, cooking, cleaning, and sexing men that haven’t even married us.
Why on earth are we giving just any man husband like treatment? Our desperation to have somebody, hell anybody, has us taking on roles prematurely, but then calling fowl when a man leaves his pretend marriage, which is the usual fate with our imaginary hubbies in boyfriend form.
So what exactly is a wifey?
I’d say wifey is an immature title that just reeks in the ignorance of our failure to understand the difference between dating and marriage. Since wifey is wife with an unnecessary letter attached to the end, it’s clear that this term was invented to add an unnecessary obligation to the unmarried woman.
Men want wifeys more than they want wives. What does a woman have to gain in a pretend marriage? Nothing actually, but amazingly, she has
everything to lose in such a faulty
relationship. In our pretend marriages where we have been ignorantly labeled as wifeys or pretend wives, we are giving our complete selves to our pretend husbands.
There’s no ring involved, no paper filed with the government, and most importantly, no true vow taken in front of God; yet, we are still giving our complete selves to men who have not given us their complete commitment.
Though I’ve pointed out that a woman has nothing to gain from a pretend marriage or from merely being a pretend wife, someone will point out that she gains experience in how to be a wife simply from pretending to be a wife.
And this draws the following question:
Does one need experience to survive
marriage? I figured it’s best to look at the couples who have been married for many years, and survived a world that has changed, and yet still manages to love their spouse and honor their vows.
Usually, these couples are married 20 years or more. They come from the earlier generations, and they view relationships and marriage completely different from our own generation.
You’ll notice a few things with them:
1. At least 90% of them did not shack up
prior to marriage.
2. Depending on the generation, they didn’t even have sex before marriage.
3. They recognized the stark differences
between marriage and dating/courting, and treated each in respect to their allotted differences.
4. Marriage was viewed as an upgrade to dating, and not merely an exact entity that has no real difference.
5. They valued marriage.
Technically speaking, they had no experience when they married their spouse of over 20 years, yet today, they are still married.
So who was the deceiver who said a couple needs to live together before they get married to stay married? I wonder how this particular misinformed individual would feel if he saw that now 70% of black women are single, and the ones playing house become so miserable in their pretend marriages, they wonder if real marriage is even worth it. Like our grandmothers used to say…”Why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free?”
Let’s stop giving away our milk ladies, and begin a movement in bringing back the sacredness of marriage.
Playing wife with no husband? You have
nothing to gain, but everything to lose.
By: Amanda Anderson

1. Marriage is not a word. It's a sentence (a life sentence).
2. Marriage is love. Love is blind. Therefore marriage is an institution for the blind.
3. Marriage is an institution in which a man loses his Bachelor's Degree and the woman gets her masters.
4. Marriage is a three-ring circus:
engagement ring, wedding ring and suffeRING.
5. Married life is full of excitement and
frustration: In the first year of marriage, the man speaks and the woman listens. In the second year, the woman speaks and the man listens.In the third year, they both speak and the NEIGHBOUR listens.
6. Getting married is very much like going to a restaurant with friends. You order what you want, and when you see what the other person has, you wish you had ordered that instead.
7. There was this man who muttered a few words in the church and found himself married. A year later he muttered something in his sleep and found himself divorced.
8. A happy marriage is a matter of giving
and taking; the husband gives and the wife takes.
9. Son: How much does it cost to get
married, Dad? Father: I don't know son, I'm still paying for it.
10. Son: Is it true Dad? I heard that in
ancient China, a man doesn't know his wife until he marries her. Father: That happens everywhere, son, EVERYWHERE!
11. Love is one long sweet dream, and
marriage is the alarm clock.
12. They say that when a man holds a
woman's hand before marriage, it is love; after marriage it is self-defense.
13. When a newly married man looks happy, we know why. But when a 10-year married man looks happy, we wonder why.
14. There was this lover who said that he would go through hell for her. They got married, and now he is going through HELL.
16. When a man steals your wife, there is no better revenge than to let him keep her.
17. Eighty percent of married men cheat in America, the rest cheat in Europe.
18. After marriage, husband and wife
become two sides of a coin. They just can't face each other, but they still stay together.
19. Marriage is when man and a woman
becomes one. The trouble starts when they try to decide which one.
20. Before marriage, a man yearns for the woman he loves. After the marriage the "Y" becomes silent.

Dopefiend: Why nt d man on top stabin d woman or blowin her brains out?

. L.M.A.O

Dopefiend: Why nt d man on top stabin d woman or blowin her brains out?

. L.M.A.O

Cristiano Ronaldo is reportedly unhappy at Real Madrid, sparking rumours he could quit the Bernabeu - but how much is the Portuguese star worth in the current transfer market? The Madrid forward moved to Spain from Manchester United for £80m, the world's most expensive ever transfer fee, but Barcelona star Leo Messi is still worth more. Based on valuations from transfermarkt.co.uk, GMF counts down the top 10 most valuable players, in terms of the transfer fee their teams could expect to receive should they be sold on the current transfer market. 10. Sergio Busquets - Barcelona | Value £37m :The 24-year-old is a first-choice regular in two of the best teams in the world - Spain and Barcelona - and his ability in the holding midfield role makes him the most valuable defensive midfielder in the game.
9. Robin van Persie - Manchester United | Value: £42m: The Dutchman recently moved to Manchester United for £24m, but his value has almost doubled since then.
8. David Silva - Manchester City | Value: £44m: Manchester City's fleet-footed creator-in-chief is Spain's second representative on the list, but he's certainly not the last.
7. Falcao - Atletico Madrid | £44m:
The Colombian striker stunned Chelsea with a majestic hat-trick last week, sending Falcao's valuation through the roof. One of the most devasting number nine's in world football.
6. Sergio Aguero - Manchester City | Value: £45m :Bought for £38m last summer, Aguero's market value has increased after a
stellar first season at the Etihad Stadium.
5. Cesc Fabregas - Barcelona | Value: £48.5m :The former-Arsenal captain moved to Catalonia last year, and has seen his value, like many of the Spain stars, rise considerably.
4. Wayne Rooney - Manchester United | Value: £57m: Sir Alex Ferguson's investment in an 18-year-old Wayne Rooney in 2004 has paid off, and the United striker is now the most valuable English player in football.
3. Andres Iniesta - Barcelona | Value: £61.5m :The third, and final, Spain player on the list - Andres Iniesta is the reigning Best Player in Europe, and at £61.5m his value reflects that.
2. Cristiano Ronaldo - Real Madrid | Value: £88m :The only Real Madrid player in the top 10, and the current most expensive
transfer in history. But the Portuguese star, once again, plays second fiddle to his Barcelona and Argentina rival.
1. Lionel Messi - Barcelona | Value: £105m
The three-time Ballon d'Or winner is the world's most valuable footballer, and with good reason. Should, I repeat, should Barcelona decide to sell their star forward, expect the offers to be well north of £105m - but at current transfer rates, that's his value.

More Pix

Fans who attended this year’s Afrobeats festival held at HMV Apollo in London were more than thrilled to watch pop duo
Psquare perform in England for the first time this year. The Okoye twin brothers, who are known for thorough live performances left no stone unturned as they stormed the
concert with their 14-man band, performing for two hours… They also dedicated one of their hit songs, ‘Beautiful Onyinye’, to their late mother, Josephine Okoye.
Check out the photos below…

The Nigeria Premier League has reacted to
the threat by three Nigerian journalists to take legal action against it, if they do not sanction Ocean Boys, by expelling the Bayelsa club, for failing to honour three
consecutive matches this season.
After its meeting on Wednesday, the board of the League organising body stated that ”the board unanimously evoke article 4.2(3) of the NPL which states that ‘if a club fails to
honour two consecutive matches without an
acceptable reason, such a club shall be expelled from the league and its matches
played and un-played shall be cancelled’ in
the case of Ocean Boys Football Club. Therefore, Ocean Boys FC stands expelled and its matches, played and un-played summarily cancelled. The secretariat will not deduct points from the remaining 19 points because it is assumed that Ocean Boys did not take part in the 2012

TRUE LIFE STORY by a lady who decided to share her own story anonymously after hearing Cynthia’s story: When Cynthia (the lady killed in the hotel room in Festac, Lagos) surfaced on the internet and various news media, I was scared and it brought back a whole lot of memories to me and also served as and eye opener. Many people castigated and criticised Cynthia (may her gentle soul rest in peace), but my point is, it could have been anybody, anybody at all. We have met people through various social media. Some have ended up well, some have not but with painful memories. To cut the long story short, let me kindly share with you my encounter with social media especially the very popular Blackberry Messenger (BBM):
I am a graduate and currently serving in Kaduna. I could have ruined it, but I needed. somewhere to clear my head and forget about my ugly encounter. Here is my story.
I happened to have a married man as a contact on my BBM. He had been asking me out for over six months and I refused to date him. As time went on, he invited me clubbing with him when his wife was outside the country, and I went with him all night. We spent most of the night at Swe bar, Lagos.
I also met his clique of friends, married as well with their various mistresses. We had ‘mad’ fun. After all the clubbing and drinking, he lodged me in a hotel somewhere in Obalende. I felt sort of safe with him. We did not have sex, but he made sweet love to me and touched me in places I had never ever imagined.
He kissed me passionately but guess what? He did not have sex with me. We did all sorts but there was no penetration. So, to an extent, I trusted hewas a good person to be around with. I did not know that it was all part of the plan.
He gave me N10,000 and put me in a cab to go home the next morning. We kept talking and chatting and sending naked pictures to each other and he told me naughty things of how he wanted to whisper things in my ear, I blushed. We didn’t see for two weeks and that was because his wife just came back from Turkey.
One faithful evening, he pinged me that he was organising a beach party/boat cruise and that he would love for me to be his date and that he wanted to open a BBM chat, as a medium for his friends and my friends to interact. I was excited about it, I just wanted to have fun. I was able to get five of my very hot friends.
The BBM group opened and we got chatting. I also realise that majority of them were married and working in reputable firms. It was fun and we didn’t mind if they were married, we just wanted to have fun, as well as some other girls apart from my friends in the group. We chatted exclusively, sent pictures to the BBM group to introduce ourselves, and we had opened group conversations pending the beach party. And as excited as we were, we went shopping for nice sexy beach wears.
The D-day finally came, we all assembled at the Lagos Island Boat Club. I was wowed because it was a highclass party. We were cruising in a boat loaded with goodies drinks and hot babes, and as well ‘MARRIED MEN’. I did not care, I just said in my mind that I would not roll with married men any more after this, that for now, all I wanted to do was to catch some fun. After all, I wasn’t paying bills.
We got there, it was a private beach resort. Most of the beach facilities I got to see there were owned by multinational companies. We got out of the boat, and went to where we were partying. It was a duplex made with wood. It was a very nice setting. I felt comfortable because it even had a fence around it separating it from other beach houses around. So, there was privacy and of course bouncers (heavy looking guys) guarding the place. I said to myself, this must be heaven, I must be dreaming.
Anyway, we felt free with each other because we had been chatting. It was 5:30pm and the party just started. We had drinks flowing from the private bar tender which happens to be owned by one of the men in the group. Reality struck when I realised that I was feeling dizzy and feeling really funny and light headed. Not only me, but other girls around me too noticed there was something strange about it.
I was also feeling Hot as hell! I had been drugged. They monitored us and when they knew the drug had really gone deep into our system, they moved us up into the main beach house. I could still see faces, but was too weak and Hot to react.
Mr B, the man who took me clubbing, carried me in his hands like a sacrifice and put me down on the floor just as other men also did with their girls. We were eight in numbers; 8 girls, 8 guys, and they all stripped us down and had sex with us.
I enjoyed it a bit because I was Hot. It was a mixed feeling because I cried, I moaned, but I did not know how many times he came into me. He pounded me hard. I was dizzy, but he grabbed me with force. All I could notice was the wedding ring on his finger. I thought of how wicked and miserable some married can be. How inhuman and heartless they could be.
All of them took turns in switching partners and slept with all of us. I passed out. That was the last thing I could remember. I felt water poured on me. I noticed all the other girls around me too were half naked and some stark naked.
We spent the night at the beach, but the men were no where to be found. I looked round me and all I could see was packs of used condoms. I ran to pick my cloths and possibly raise an alarm. I got dressed, found my phone with an envelope. It contained N16,000 and a note asking us to take N2000 each for transport. Tears of anger and rage filled my eyes and the girls around me as well.
“We were drugged and used like tissue paper. I grabbed my phone and noticed aping came in. I checked my phone and I noticed the BBM group had been deleted,and a message via BBM from MR B came in. He threatened me that if I say a word to anyone, I would regret it.
I told him he was a bastard, and he said try it. A picture came in, several pictures. In fact, they were pictures of us being naked on the floor. Pictures of the humiliating us but they blurred the faces of the men. In total, I got 20 pictures. I was not myself for a month.
I went back to school, I had no one to talk to. The rest of the semester was hell for me. My CGPA dropped drastically. It was the worst out of the worst result I ever had.
Till today, my friends and I have not discussed this with anyone, but all I could do when I heard of Cynthia’s story was to narrate my own ordeal anonymously and spread the news, the word, and pray they (ladies who do runs)see it and changed their ways.

This is really worth laughing out loud
look how they looks,hahahahahahahahhaha!!!!!
what is your thought on this pix?

Was seen in Pretoria, South Africa..
signs of end-time??

Usain Bolt has successfully defended his Olympic
title by running the men’s 100m final in 9.63 seconds.
The Jamaican sprinter has been troubled by injury
recently but showed no signs of any problems as he
set a new Olympic record time in a thrilling race at
London 2012.
His compatriot Yohan Blake, known as The Beast,
claimed a sliver medal with a time of 9.75 while
American runner Justin Gatlin finished third in 9.79
seconds

From where I come from,the bride's family is responsible for the traditional wedding but if ur wife to be family is not that wealthy,I think it will be better to support them financially and u can only do that through their daughter.

You cannot compare Bruno Mars to R kelly because R kelly is a legend.

She looks natural. Nice pix

My sweet Kevin,
We started to fight over little things. The fights were worse after u visited home or attended any of your numerous family meetings. You came home one evening and asked me to move out of the bedroom we both shared and into the guestroom
downstairs. The next time u returned from the meeting, you tied me up with a rope and used your belt on me. No one heard my screams.
I remember when you told me †̥ђά̲̣̥†̥̥ your family had asked you to remarry. u showed me documents of all your numerous landed property including the house we lived in. Your brother was listed as next of kin.
When I asked you about it, your answer rocked the ground I was standing on. You said, “What have you to show that entitles you to any stake in this household?” You were referring to my barreness. It is funny how to my family and friends, I was the beautiful and loving Ogo, whilst to you and your family I was a worthless piece of rag. u called me barren. I could have fled but your love and acceptance was of more worth to me than the love and admiration of the world outside our home. I desperately sought to be loved by you, Kevin.
In your family’s presence I felt unworthy, unloved and unwanted.
Yet, I stayed on. I would make u love me one way or the other and I knew that one sure way would be to produce a child, an heir for you. That was the most important thing to you. I began the numerous procedures, painful procedures, including surgery. I gave myself daily shots. At some
point the needles could no longer pierce my skin. My skin had toughened to the piercing pain of needles.
After seven years of marriage, our prayers were answered. God blessed us with our son Kamsiyochukwu, which means ‘’Just as I asked of the Lord’’. God had intervened and miracles were about to start happening because for the first time in seven years, my mother-in-law called me. Finally I was home. I had been accepted. I was now a woman, a wife and a mother. Finally there was peace. Kamsi will be four in
November. The miracles stayed with me because 18 months later through another
procedure, Chimamanda was born. Her birth was bitter sweet for me. Sweet because you Kevin, my husband, and my in-laws would love me more for bearing a second child, but bitter because this particular birth almost cost me my life. The doctors had become very concerned. You
see, I had developed too many complications from all the different procedures I had undergone in the journey to have children and these were beginning to get in the way of normal everyday living. I developed conditions that had almost become life threatening. So the doctors sent me off with my new bundle of joy and
with a stern warning not to try ƒό̲r̲̅ another child as I may not be so lucky. I chuckled, almost gleefully. Why would I want to try for a third child? God had given me a boy and a girl, what more could I ask for. I was only ever so thankful to God.
Kevin, you and I gave numerous and very generous donations to different churches in thanksgiving to God. All was well. I was happy and fulfilled. Kevin, you loved me again. Your family accepted me. Life was good. And all was quiet again.
…………………… For a while.
Then fate struck me a blow. As if to remind me that my stay in your house was temporary and was never really going to be peaceful, Kamsi – our son, our first fruit, my pride and joy and the child that gave me a place in my husband’s home, began to show signs of slowed development; the
visits to the doctors resumed, this time on account of Kamsi. We started seeing therapists. After we’d been from one doctor to another I decided I had to resort to prayer. I was frightened. I was terrified. I was threatened. I started to feel unwell. I
had difficulty breathing. I needed to see my doctors, Kamsi too. He wasn’t doing too well either. He had difficulty with his speech. He was slow to comprehend things. I did not know ƒό̲r̲̅ sure what was wrong with him but I knew all was not well. Not with him and not with me. We were denied visas to the USA because we had overstayed on our last trip on account of Kamsi’s treatments. So whilst we waited for a lawyer to help us clear up the immigration issues with America, I applied for a UK visa and sought help in London. But by then,
trouble had reared its head at home, again.
Kevin, you had again become very impatient with me. My fears were fully alive again. The battles it seemed I had won were again in full rage. My husband, in your
irritable impatience and anger, u told me to my face that our son, my Kamsi, was worthless to you. You said he was abnormal. You said †̥ђά̲̣̥†̥̥ our daughter, my
Amanda, was a girl and that you had no need for a girl child because she would someday be married off. I remember, in pain, that you didn’t attend Amanda’s
christening because you were upset with me. You told me your mother was more important to you than “THESE THINGS” I brought to your house.
You were referring to our children, were you not? “THESE THINGS”. My heart bled. I wept bitterly. Then I quickly calmed my fears by telling myself that you were under a lot of stress at work and that you were also probably reacting to all the moneythat you had spent on my treatments. Surely, all that was getting to you? Even when you threatened me with a knife, twice you did that, I still felt unworthy of you and very deserving of your hatred. Even when you would say: “I will kill you and nothing will
happen because you have no one to fight for you”, I kept on struggling to get you to love me because, Kevin, your validation was important to me.
You had refused to give me money for my medical trip to London. I knew then it was because you had your hands full with caring and catering ƒό̲r̲̅ everybody who was dear to you. Ūя̲̅ finances were stretched. I thought then that in time you would come around.
My health continued to get worse. Eventually, I made it to London. After extensive consultations and tests, I was given a definitive diagnosis. My condition was life threatening. It was from this time, when it was clear that I required surgery to save me life that I came face to face with a different kind of war from our home.
Kevin, you stopped speaking with me. I was in pain, in anguish and in tears. I didn’t understand what was happening. I had stayed three weeks in London and Kevin, you never called, sent a text or inquired how I was faring. You stopped taking my
calls. Instead I got a call from my cousin in whose care I had left my children. She was frantic with worry because there was no food in the house for the children to eat;
Kevin you had refused to provide food for our children. Kevin, you had also refused to pay for Kamsi’s home schooling.
Then Kevin, I received that e-mail from you. The only communication from you for the entire period I was in London.
Do you remember?
It was an angry email. You berated me for putting your integrity at stake at your work place. Apparently your employers had called a hospital in London to inquire about me and were
told that no one by my name was ever
their patient. I later found out that u had given the wrong hospital name to
your employers. Do you remember,
Kevin?
For the first time in my 12 year
marriage, the alarm bells in my head
began to sound real. For the first time
in 12 years, I felt real anger stir up in
my heart. Kevin, I was angry because
you paid no heed to the hospital
where your wife was at in London.
You had no clue and cared little
about what I was going through. Yet
you would
berate me for putting your INTEGRITY
at work at stake. Your integrity was
your primary concern, not my health.
Then it hit me! All these years I was
trying to be all I could be for you,
Kevin, to make you happy, to please
you, Kevin, ……… you actually hated
me. You didn’t want me in your
life. The signs were all there. Your
family had showed me from day one
that they didn’t want me. I was the
object of a hatred that I could not
explain. I couldn’t understand why.
Then I saw the hand writing on the
wall, all those many things that went
on. You even sold my car whilst I was
still lying on a hospital bed in London,
with no word to me. I was not to learn
of what you had done until I returned
to Nigeria. The doctors had allowed
me to return to prepare for surgery.
Kevin, do you remember that on my
return I gave you a pair of shoes I had
bought for you? Kevin, my husband,
do u remember hurling those
shoes at me? Kevin, do you
remember me breaking down in
tears? Kevin, do you remember me
asking you that night, many times
over, why you hated me so much,
what I had done to make you hate me
as much as you did?
“You are disturbing me, and if u continue, I`ll move out and inform the
company that I no longer live in the
house. Then they will come and drive
you away”. Kevin, my husband, †̥ђά̲̣̥†̥̥ was your response to me. Did you
know then I only had days to live?
Is that why you told me that would be
the last time I would see you
physically? Did you know it would
only be a few more hours?
I still had a surgery to go through.
Kevin, since you wanted no part in it, I had contacted the medical officer in
your company directly for referrals. I left Eket for Lagos on
Saturday. That same day I consulted
with the specialist surgeon and
surgery was scheduled for Monday
morning.
In those final hours, as I prepared ƒό̲r̲̅ my surgery, I was alone, my spirit was
broken. I had lost all the fight in me.
Kevin, I knew that nothing I did or said
would turn you heart toward me, and I had nobody for whom you had any
regards who would speak up for me.
In those final hours, Kevin, I called
you. This was Sunday morning, less
than 24 hours to my death. Do you
remember, Kevin? I called you to
share what the specialist surgeon had
said. I was still shaking from Ūя̲̅ screams on the phone when I got in
here. You did not want me to bother
you, you screamed. I should go to my
brothers and sisters, you screamed. I should pay you back all the money
you gave me for my treatment in
London, you screamed. Kevin, did
you know that would be my last
conversation with you? My last
conversation with you, my husband,
my love, my life, ended with you
banging the phone on me.
Recalling the abusive words, the
spitting, the beating, the bruising, the
knifing, and the promise that I would
not live long for daring to forget to
buy garden eggs for your mother, an
insult you vowed I would pay for with
my life ……., I knew then it was over
for me. There was no rationalizing
needed any longer. Even the blind
could see ………. You did not want me
in your life.
I went in for surgery on Monday
morning, February 27, 2012, and after
battling for several hours, I yielded
my spirit.
Kevin, my husband, I lived my
promise to God. The promise I made
on the day I wedded you.
For better ………………………… For
worse
For richer …………………………. For
poorer
In Sickness ………………………. And
in health
To love ………………………….. And to
cherish
Till DEATH US DO PART!
And it has.
NOW I AM DEAD!!!!!!!
Just as your mum predicted ….. Her
cold words follow me to morgue. She
swore to me that I would leave her
son’s house dead or alive. I couldn’t
leave whilst I still breathed. It had to
be through death, and death it has
become.
Kevin, you are FREE! And, so am I.
Your freedom is temporary. Mine is
eternal.
Whilst you still have freedom,
remember Kamsi and Chimamanda.
Lovingly yours until death,
Ogo. Link: www. Ogorip.com/my-story.html
I am gone. Gone forever. But if one
woman, just one woman will learn from
my story, then maybe I would not have
gone in vain.
My heart weeps for my children, my
mummy, my sisters and my brothers, my
extended family. These ones, I was a
gift to. These ones, they loved me. These
ones, they wanted me. These ones, they
needed me. These ones, they wish I had
spoken out earlier.
I am gone. Gone forever. But if one
woman, just one woman will learn from
my story, then maybe I would not have
gone in vain.
My heart weeps for my children, my
mummy, my sisters and my brothers, my
extended family. These ones, I was a
gift to. These ones, they loved me. These
ones, they wanted me. These ones, they
needed me. These ones, they wish I had
spoken out earlier.

@ missy B,pls am also interested. ♏Ɣ email is oluwakemitosin@gmail.com

Wardrope Malfunction