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Christianity Etc › Re: Appreciation of God by OT2024(op): 8:56am On Feb 25

ALL HAIL THE POWER OF JESUS' NAME

1. All hail the power of Jesus' name!
Let angels prostrate fall;
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown Him Lord of all.

2. Let highborn seraphs tune the lyre,
And as they tune it, fall
Before His face Who tunes their choir,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Before His face Who tunes their choir,
And crown Him Lord of all.

3. Crown Him, ye morning stars of light,
Who fixed this floating ball;
Now hail the strength of Israel's might,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Now hail the strength of Israel's might,
And crown Him Lord of all.

4. Crown Him, ye martyrs of our God,
Who from His altar call;
Extol the stem of Jesse's Rod,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Extol the stem of Jesse's Rod,
And crown Him Lord of all.

5. Ye seed of Israel's chosen race,
Ye ransomed from the fall,
Hail Him who saves you by His grace,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Hail Him who saves you by His grace,
And crown Him Lord of all.

6. Hail Him, ye heirs of David's line,
Whom David Lord did call,
The God incarnate, Man divine,
And crown Him Lord of all.
The God incarnate, Man divine,
And crown Him Lord of all.

7. Sinners, whose love can ne'er forget,
The wormwood and the gall,
Go spread your trophies at His feet,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Go spread your trophies at His feet,
And crown Him Lord of all.

8. Let every tribe and every tongue,
Before Him prostrate fall,
And shout in universal song,
And crown Him Lord of all.
And shout in universal song,
And crown Him Lord of all.

Christianity Etc › Re: Lady Who "Pastor" Cursed With Death By 11:30 P.M Has Just Tweeted by OT2024: 11:59am On Feb 24

It is preposterous that a pastor will be cursing somebody for not properly addressing him.

A real person called by God will.not make such a threat over a flimsy matter.

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Christianity Etc › Re: Appreciation of God by OT2024(op): 7:14am On Feb 24

WHAT A FRIEND WE HAVE IN JESUS

1. What a friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and griefs to bear;
What a privilege to carry
Everything to God in prayer!
Oh, what peace we often forfeit,
Oh, what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer.

2. Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged,
Take it to the Lord in prayer,
Can we find a friend so faithful,
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness,
Take it to the Lord in prayer.

3. Are we weak and heavy laden,
Cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Saviour, still our refuge,
Take it to the Lord in prayer,
Do your friends despise, forsake you?
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
In His arms He'll take and shield you,
You wilt find a solace there.

Nairaland General › Re: Who Is The Most Famous Nigerian Of All Time? by OT2024: 6:18pm On Feb 23

Determining the "most famous Nigerian of all time" can be subjective and depends on various criteria such as cultural influence, political impact, or global recognition. However, some prominent figures often mentioned in this context include:

1. **Wole Soyinka** - A Nobel Prize-winning playwright and poet, Soyinka is recognized for his literary works and activism against political oppression in Nigeria.

2. **Chinua Achebe** - Known for his novel "Things Fall Apart," Achebe is one of the most significant African authors and is credited with bringing African literature to a global audience.

3. **Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala** - As a former finance minister and the first female Director-General of the World Trade Organization, Okonjo-Iweala is a prominent figure in global economics and politics.

4. **Muhammad Ali** - Although not Nigerian himself, he was famously connected to the country through his friendship with Nigerian boxer Dick Tiger and his support for African independence movements.

5. **Bola Ahmed Tinubu** - A key political figure in Nigeria, he was the Governor of Lagos State and has had a significant influence in Nigerian politics.

6. **Fela Kuti** - A legendary musician and the pioneer of Afrobeat, Kuti's music and activism against government corruption have made him an enduring cultural icon.

7. **Davido and Wizkid** - Both are internationally recognized musicians who have played a significant role in bringing Nigerian music, particularly Afrobeats, to a global audience.

Each of these individuals has made substantial contributions to their respective fields, making them some of the most recognized Nigerians worldwide.

Crime › Re: Lady Tied To Tree After Meeting Online ‘lover’ Rescued By Vigilantes In Delta by OT2024: 6:14pm On Feb 23

Most times, online romance is a scam.

Beware!

Politics › Re: El-Rufai Files ₦1 Billion Suit Against ICPC Over Abuja Home Invasion by OT2024: 6:02pm On Feb 23

The ICPC acted according to law.

Under Nigerian law, the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offenses Commission (ICPC) has the authority to investigate offenses related to corruption and can apply for search warrants to carry out searches, including in private residences, in certain circumstances.

The ICPC operates under the ICPC Act of 2000, which grants it the power to investigate and prosecute cases of corruption. For the ICPC to conduct a search of a private residence, it typically needs to follow the due process outlined in the law, which includes obtaining a search warrant from a competent court. The warrant must specify the premises to be searched and the items sought.

Therefore, while the ICPC itself does not unilaterally have the power to search a private residence without a warrant, it can initiate the process to obtain one, allowing it to carry out searches as part of its investigation activities. Always ensure to check the latest legal provisions or consult a legal expert for the most current and specific information.

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Christianity Etc › Re: Appreciation of God by OT2024(op): 6:20am On Feb 23

What a friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
Everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer!

Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged,
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful?
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness,
Take it to the Lord in prayer.

Are we weak and heavy-laden,
Cumbrous weights of care?
We must tell Jesus, we must tell Jesus,
He will hear our humble prayer.
He will give us vict'ry and peace,
And will take the sin and shame
From us, and give us His righteousness.

Crime › Re: NDLEA Caught Kano Businesswoman With Drugs Hidden In Fake Pregnancy by OT2024: 5:56pm On Feb 22

Ha a!
What an ingenious way to go.

But what is illegal remains illegal.

5 Likes 1 Share

Education › Re: Life Education by OT2024(op): 3:43pm On Feb 22

OT2024:
John D. Rockefeller was the welthiest American of all time and was once among the richest man in the world. By age 25, he controlled one of the largest oil refineries in the US. By age 31, he had become the world’s largest oil refiner. By age 38, he commanded 90% of the oil refined in the U.S.

By 50, he was the richest man in the country. As a young man, every decision, attitude, and relationship was tailored to create his personal power and wealth.

But at the age of 53, he became ill. His entire body became racked with pain and he lost all of his hair. In complete agony, the billionaire who could buy anything he wanted, but he could only digest soup and crackers. An associate wrote, He could not sleep, would not smile and nothing in life meant anything to him. His personal, highly skilled physicians predicted he would die within a year.

As he approached death he awoke one morning with the vague realization of not being able to take any of his wealth with him into the next world. The man who could control the business world suddenly realized he was not in control of his own life. He was left with a choice.

So, he called his attorneys, accountants, and managers and announced that he wanted to channel his Assets to Hospitals, Research, and Charity work. John D. Rockefeller established his Foundation.

This new direction eventually led to the discovery of Penicillin, cures for Malaria, Tuberculosis and Diphtheria.

But perhaps the most amazing part of Rockefeller’s story is that the moment he began to give back a portion of all that he had earned, his body’s chemistry was altered so significantly that he got better. It looked as if he would die at 53 but he lived until 98 yrs. old.

Rockefeller discovered the power of gratitude and philanthropy, giving away the majority of his wealth. This act not only healed him but also made him whole. The happiness he felt in sharing his blessings is one thing that healed him.

In his later years, he reflected in his diary:

“God taught me that everything belongs to Him, and I am merely a channel to fulfill His wishes. My life has been a long, happy journey, full of work and play. I let go of worry, and God was good to me every day.”

Education › Re: Life Education by OT2024(op): 3:42pm On Feb 22

OT2024:
HOW TO STAY POOR

1. PRIORITIZE SLEEPING
Never wake up early. Stay in bed as long as possible, stretching and turning until hunger forces you to get up. If there are no bed bugs, why hurry?

2. PRIORITIZE SPENDING
Never plan on investments. Spend money as soon as you get it. When it's gone, try to recall how it disappeared.

3. AVOID SAVING
Don’t save until you have a huge amount of money. How can you save when you earn so little? Those who advise saving don't understand your very important expenses.

4. PRIORITIZE YOUR PRIDE
Avoid activities deemed "uneducated" or "low class" like selling or small businesses. As a graduate, professional, or someone from a well-known family, engaging in such affairs is a huge insult to your standards and status.

5. WAIT FOR MIRACLES
Wait for an angel to deliver a bag full of money for your capital. It’s impossible to start any business without millions. Sure, some businesses began with little capital, but you know success is 100% guaranteed if you start big.

6. COMPLAIN ENDLESSLY
Complain about everything except your own attitude and mindset. Blame your poverty on your parents, the system, the government, and the banks that refused to lend you money. They are all bad and do not want you to get rich.

7. OVERSPEND
Always spend more than you earn. Buy products on credit and keep borrowing from friends and employers to maintain your lifestyle.

8. DRESS TO IMPRESS
Make sure you look rich so others will be intimidated by your presence. Win your secret showing-off competition. Whenever your neighbor buys a new phone, make sure you get a more expensive one.

9. PRIORITIZE CAR
Purchase a car that costs more than three times your annual salary. It’s an essential status symbol. Don’t worry if you don’t have a house or a place to park it. In fact, don’t prioritize buying your own house because you can’t use it to impress people like you can with a car.

10. SPOIL YOUR CHILDREN
Give your children everything they ask for to show your love and prove you’re the best parent. They shouldn’t struggle for anything. It doesn’t matter if they grow up lazy and entitled. What’s important is that you give them the best so they don’t suffer, unlike those cruel parents who, despite their means, choose to let their children struggle.

11. FOCUS ON ENTERTAINMENT
Devote your time, energy, and resources to watching your favorite sports or playing computer games. It doesn’t matter if you’re not productive. What’s important is that you enjoy life to the fullest. A time spent on enjoyment is never wasted.

12. PRIORITIZE VICES
Indulge in your favorite vices. Whether it's smoking, drinking, or gambling, make these your top priorities. Enjoy drinking with friends and embrace the image of being a smoker or gambler. Fully commit to these habits, regardless of their impact on your well-being or finances.

Christianity Etc › Re: The Solution To All Problems by OT2024(op): 3:40pm On Feb 22

OT2024:
Jesus is the solution to all problems.

He is because He offers peace, hope, and purpose in every circumstance. Through His life, death, and resurrection, He conquered sin, fear, and death, providing a path to eternal life and restoration with God. In times of suffering, Jesus brings comfort; in confusion, He gives wisdom.

He invites all to cast their burdens on Him, promising rest for weary souls. His love is unconditional, His grace sufficient, and His power limitless. No matter the struggle—be it emotional, physical, or spiritual—Jesus remains constant, faithful, and present. In Him, we find healing, direction, and ultimate victory.

Romance › Re: Led by the Flesh by OT2024(op): 9:17am On Feb 21

'What?' The man looked genuinely surprised.

'Wendy did that?'

'Yes,' Sergeant Momoh put in. 'So, you need to cooperate with us. Where does she live?'

'Hold on.'

The man opened his drawer and brought out two stapled papers that looked like a C.V. It belonged to Wendy. He handed it to Momoh. 'That's her address and other contact. You can have it.'

'Thank you.' Momoh brought out a complimentary card from the same pocket he had brought the i.d. Card.

'Here, give me a call the moment she pops up here.'

The man nodded. 'Alright, Sergeant.'

Momoh turned to Joe.

'Oga, leave us to continue the work from here. You can be calling my number to be updated on the matter. Don't worry, we'll get her arrested and the law will take its course.'
Joe nodded. 'You really must get her arrested. There's no way a lady will treat me so dishonorably and go scot-free. That Wendy must rot in jail!'

'We'll do our best,' the other officer, who had been taciturn, said.

Joe nodded. 'Yes. I want your very best.'

* * *

Eddie had a busy day in the office and in the court. It was almost four o'clock before he had a respite. Right in his office, he changed from his law gown to t-shirt. He intended to move from the office to Amorisia Store at Ikeja. Slowly, he drove to the place as the traffic was already building up.

Linda personally attended to him. She showed round the different products that Amorisia offered for sale. Eddie was impressed by what he saw. He never imagined that some of those products were offered for sale right here in Nigeria.
He pointed at a black curvy-haired doll that looked very appealing to him.

'How much does this cost?' he asked.

'N700,000.'

He nodded as he did not expect anything less. He made money transfer right there and she got the bank text alert. He was given the manual which covered the usage and the maintenance.

'Do not hesitate to give us a call if and when the need arises.'

The collapsible doll was put in a case and that looked more like a suitcase. That was it. He had a sex partner he would not take to dinner or buy exotic items for; but the one he could have unfettered sexual access to. In his mind, he thought of a name to call her. Several names came to his mind but he finally settled for Dolly.

Yes, that seemed appropriate enough. He put the case of Dolly in his car and drove home. He decided he would have to leave Dolly in the booth of the car until his children had slept. He didn't want anybody to know about her; she must forever be his secret love.
It was almost mid-night when he had the chance to bring Dolly to his apartment and to his bedroom.

The children had just gone to bed. He locked the bedroom door and brought her out. He was not in a hurry to sleep with her as he took his time in reading the manual and examining the humanoid toy. He grinned to himself when he read that Dolly could moan when in the act. Good, I would see how good she was in doing that, he thought gleefully.
Minutes later, Eddie went into action with Dolly.

Literature › Re: Led by the Flesh by OT2024(op): 9:17am On Feb 21

Christianity Etc › Re: Appreciation of God by OT2024(op): 8:10am On Feb 21

It is another glorious day.

Thank You Lord.

Thank You Jesus.

Romance › Re: Something Fishy About Ms Kay by OT2024(op): 8:08am On Feb 21

"I understand, Dave. You need time to make some adjustment. I'll wait. Can we, at least, be friends, for now?"

That friendship could be dangerous, my mind said. All the same, if I could show self-restraint and a lot of discipline, there would be no harm.

"Okay, but get it at the back of your mind that nothing amorous will happen between us again."

She smiled. "Yes, sir!" she said sarcastically.

We went on to chat. She was currently working in the state ministry of land and survey, she said, and she was still living in her parents' house at Anthony. I told her about my job and the challenges. We chatted about old time. For now, I was relieved from worrying about any missing bra.

But I was miffed that Damilola took the line of action that she took. When it was getting towards evening, I asked if my guest would like to take rice. There were some foodstuffs and we could cook rice.

She agreed and pronto went on to cook the food. She was not a good cook but was better than Damilola. I commended her for her effort. When it was minutes after seven, I asked her if it would not be a good idea for her to start going home so that she would not be late.

"I'm sleeping over tonight," she declared. I raised an eye brow on that. "Is that really a good idea?" I asked.

She chuckled. "Is it really a bad idea?" she parried.

My mind was busy. I resolved that no matter the temptation, I would overcome it. I would have to prove to her that I meant all that I had said. We continued to chat and watch the television until late in the night.

"Do you have a t-shirt I change to?" she asked.

I stood up went to the wardrobe.

"Sure." I gave her a white t-shirt.

She stood up as she got it. She unzipped the ankara skirt she was wearing. I could see she was wearing a black tight underneath. Then, she unzipped the ankara blouse. The black bra that came into view immediately reminded me of the missing bra. What Funmi was wearing looked so much like the other one; but then, bras look alike, don't they?

Without minding that I was there, Funmi unhooked the bra and unclothed her boobs. I looked away. It would be a tough task but I must pass the litmus test. She finally put on the t-shirt and came back to sit on the sofa.

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Literature › Re: Something Fishy About Ms. Kay by OT2024(op): 8:08am On Feb 21

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Romance › Re: Beyond The Glamour by OT2024(op): 12:09pm On Feb 15

Then she left.

I didn’t move for a long time.

Just sat there, staring at the drive like it was an old photograph of a man I barely recognized.

---

The Crossroads

That night, I didn’t make any calls.

I didn’t send anyone to Ogudu. Or track her phone.

I went home, poured a drink.

Turned on the music.

Nina Simone. Sinnerman.

And I played the file.

Not to bury it.

But to remember why I started.

And to decide whether I still had the strength…

…to stop.

I woke up before dawn. Not from guilt. Not from fear.

But from something older. Something I hadn’t felt in years.

Purpose.

The flash drive sat on my desk, next to the untouched whiskey. I’d played it twice. Every word. Every image. Every bank transaction, bribe trail, murdered name, buried voice.

I was in all of it.

Not just as a footnote.

As the architect.

---

Detachment Protocol

I knew what had to happen next.

First: burn everything. Not literally. Symbolically.

I called Chuks at 6:12 a.m.

“I’m out.”

He didn’t speak at first. Then:

“Out of what?”

“Everything.”

He laughed. Short. Nervous.

“Boss, you don’t walk away from this.”

“I just did.”

I hung up.

Next: I wiped my private network. VPNs, routers, call logs. I disconnected Sunday, Ngozi, the surveillance teams.

Then I drafted two letters—
One to The Guardian. One to the EFCC.
Each with everything: accounts, names, locations, footage.

I set them on a 48-hour dead man's switch. If anything happened to me, they’d go public. Irrevocably.

---

The Last Call

I dialed Adesuwa.

She didn’t answer.

No surprise.

So I left a message.

“Tell Betty it’s over. I don’t expect forgiveness. Just silence. If anyone comes after Adaeze, I will drag us all down.”

I paused.

“Tell your father I know what he did in Port Harcourt. I kept it buried. That ends if they touch her.”

Click.

For the first time in years, I felt… free.

---

Confession

The newsroom smelled the same.

Ink, sweat, ambition.

I hadn’t been back in over six years. The security guard at the door recognized me, but didn’t stop me. Just nodded like he’d seen a ghost.

Inside, they stared.

Phones dropped. Keyboards stilled.

Then I saw her.

Kemi. Editor-in-chief now.

The woman who gave me my first front-page story.

“Femi?”

“I have something,” I said. “But I’m not staying.”

She led me to the back. No questions.

I handed her a new flash drive.

“This has everything. Proof. Documents. Audio. It’ll burn the Ministry, the police, the godfathers.”

“And you,” she said quietly.

I nodded. “Especially me.”

She took a breath. “You sure about this?”

“No.”

She waited. I added:

“But it’s time.”

---

Adaeze's Message

That night, I got a text.

From an unknown number.

Just one line:

“I saw. He’d be proud. I am too.”

No name. But I knew.

Literature › Re: Beyond The Glamour by OT2024(op): 12:09pm On Feb 15

Literature › Re: Nothing Goes For Nothing by OT2024(op): 12:02pm On Feb 15

'My darling husband, don't you think this place is better?' She spoke more on the viability of the place she preferred.

'It is.' He nodded his agreement. 'This place is indeed much better.' He patted his wife and she laughed.

Lanre woke up. He was confused for the next couple of seconds as he was surprised to find himself in his sitting room. He had dreamt about working on a farmland. The dream looked so real. In that dream, he already had a good wife. Now, back to reality, he knew God was trying to show him his wife.

'What!' His exclamation was absolute. He jumped up.

No, no, no. It could not be. The lady he saw could not and would not be his wife. This one must be a fanciful dream. It could not be. Lanre tried to imagine the possibility, but he shook his head.

Damilola was the woman he saw. Damilola? No. This must be a fanciful and fantastic dream.

He dismissed the dream and engaged in other things. Later, that night, he had another dream. In it, he lived in a duplex. He was going for an event and he decided to wash his car. He was still making the effort when his wife came to meet him. She too was dressed up for the occasion.

‘Darling, instead of going in this car, why don’t we go in that my new car?’ She pointed at the car. Lanre agreed.

‘You’re right.' He left for the car she pointed at. ‘Let’s go in the new car.’

When he woke up, he realized, again, that the ‘wife’ in the second dream was Damilola. Yet, he was not rest assured. Instead of having conviction, Lanre was thinking that his mind was playing trick on him.

Madam Pauline decided to stay at home this Monday morning. When she woke up, she complained that she was feverish.

'Will you go to the hospital?' Nonso tried to show some concern. 'Sandra can accompany you.'

'No. I'll stay at home. I think all that I need is rest.'

Nonso let her be. If she would be staying at home, that meant he could leave for his office earlier than before. He went to the bathroom attached to the bedroom to have his bath.

Pauline went downstairs to see what she could prepare to eat. When he got to the kitchen, she saw Sename there, talking to someone on the telephone.

Madam Pauline was surprised to see Sename with a phone. She had not come with one to the house. She was speaking in her language with the person she was talking to. Madam waited until she finished.

'Good morning, ma.' Sename put the phone on the table in the kitchen.

'Good morning. And where did you get the phone you're using?' Pauline stared at the phone.

'Na my aunty buy am.'

'Let me see.'

Romance › Re: Nothing Goes For Nothing by OT2024(op): 12:01pm On Feb 15

Politics › Re: Explosive Wiretap Claim Rocks Presidency – El-Rufai Vs NSA Ribadu Sparks Tension by OT2024: 7:12am On Feb 14

There is need to tread carefully on this matter. The law must take its course.

Literature › Re: Beyond The Glamour by OT2024(op): 5:11pm On Feb 08

Trust no one. Not even your editor.

But if I don’t?

I become what I used to write against.

A man holding the truth—and doing nothing with it.

---

The phone rang at 3:11 a.m.

Unknown number.

I answered without speaking.

A pause. Then Betty’s voice, low and steady.

“You’ve received the file.”

I stayed silent.

“Femi… this is only the beginning. If you want out, say it now.”

She gave me five seconds.

I didn’t respond.

“Good,” she said, reading my silence. “Then start writing. But keep your drafts offline. Handwritten. Printed. Nothing digital. They’re watching all channels now.”

Click.

The line went dead.

---

And that was it.

No instructions. No help. Just a storm heading toward me—and one chance to ride it.

I looked at the flash drive again. Then at the wall where Solape’s framed scripture verse hung:

“The truth shall set you free.”

But no one ever talks about the cost.

---

I started getting home later.

Not by design—at least not at first—but because time bent strangely around her. What started as a lunch would blur into a long drive, a stop at a discreet gallery, or hours spent in her apartment’s dimly lit library, where she’d pour wine and speak in circles that felt like sermons.

Princess Betty had a way of rearranging my hours. My thoughts. The rhythm of my week.

She never asked where I needed to be. It was assumed that if she wanted my time, I’d offer it. And slowly… I did.

Our lunches happened in places that didn’t exist online—restaurants with no signage, no menus, just smiling men in black who called her Madam like it was a sacred title. I once saw a senator stand up from his table just so she could pass. Not greet her. Not shake her hand. Just stand. Like being in her presence demanded altitude.

Then came the gifts.

A new phone—untraceable, “for clean communication.” It rang only once a week, and only with her voice.
Tailored shirts appeared in a flat box one day. Charcoal, navy, soft whites. No labels. But the fabric melted against the skin.
An envelope followed—neatly folded, plain. Inside, cash. Stacked, clean. Unmarked.

She handed it to me like a document. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t refuse. I told myself it was temporary. A season. A means to an end.

But seasons bleed. And this one was seeping into everything.

In her hands was the card.

The black access card.

It must have slipped from my wallet as I was pulling out change near the shoe rack. Rookie mistake. Sloppy.

She held it like it might burn her.

When she looked up, her face was calm in the way still water is calm—right before something pulls you under.

“What’s this?” she asked.

My throat tightened. I hadn’t prepared for this version of the evening.

“It’s nothing,” I said too quickly. “A press pass. For an exclusive event in VI.”

I forced a smile.

She didn’t return it.

Her eyes didn’t leave mine. She studied me—not like someone guessing, but someone confirming.

“You’ve changed, Femi Allen.”

It was the first time she said it out loud.

Soft. Measured. But it cut like broken glass.

“Changed how?”

She shrugged, but the movement was brittle. Her voice cracked, barely holding itself together.

“You talk less. You come home late. You smell like wine and a perfume I don’t own.”

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but the words knotted behind my teeth.

What could I tell her? That I was in a complicated, coded arrangement with a woman more powerful than half the state cabinet? That I’d stepped into a world where truth was currency and silence was survival?

There was no version of that truth that didn’t break her.

She stood then, slowly, like something had settled inside her. She walked past me toward the bedroom. Then stopped at the door.

She didn’t turn around when she asked:

“Are you seeing someone?”

The words hung in the air—too direct for lies, too fragile for the full truth.

I stood there.

Cowardly. Quiet.

The silence between us grew teeth.

“Femi,” she said again, and this time I heard the tears in her voice. “Are you?”

I shook my head.

“No,” I said. “I swear.”

It wasn’t a full lie. I wasn’t seeing Betty. Not in the way Solape meant.

But it wasn’t the truth either.

She didn’t believe me. I could see it in the way her shoulders sagged slightly. In the way her hand brushed her face before she disappeared into the room.

That night, when I slipped into bed beside her and reached for her waist, she turned away from me.

No words. No resistance.

Just distance.

A new, unfamiliar coldness had taken root between us—quiet, but growing. Like a draft through a window I didn’t know was open.

And I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, wondering if this was the cost of the life I’d stepped into. Not drama. Not destruction.

Just the slow, unbearable loss of the person who once saw me completely—and now barely knew who I was.

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Romance › Re: Beyond The Glamour by OT2024(op): 5:10pm On Feb 08

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Literature › Re: Nothing Goes For Nothing by OT2024(op): 5:03pm On Feb 08

Stealthily, he climbed the stairs down and went to her room. He turned the knob and it opened. He had earlier told her he would be coming and she should not lock the door.

He entered her room and closed the door gently behind him. Sename was sleeping on her bed, oblivious of his presence. She was in the night gown given to her by madam. Seeing her body increased his heart- beat. He gently tapped her on the lap. She woke up and looked at him dreamingly.

'Oga, you don come?' She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

'Lower your voice!' He had to chide her. 'Of course, I don come.'

The fastness with which he removed his nightwear was a record one.

'O ya, o ya, remove this thing you're wearing.' To him, there was no time to waste.

She looked at him critically.

'What're you waiting for? O ya now!' There was urgency in his tone.

'Oga, before we go do am, there is something you go do.' She was calm but assertive.

'What's that?' He stared at her.

'I need phone.'

'Is that all? No problem.' He grinned sheepishly.

'Then I go send money to my mother. She no well.'

'Oh, sorry about that. Don't worry, I will give you some money for her.' He held her nightgown and helped to remove it.

She relaxed and smiled. He could have his fill now.

This Saturday evening, Lanrewould be rounding off his seven days of fasting and prayers. He had faith and believed in Christ. He also believed in the efficacy of fasting and praying. One of his colleagues at work had derogatorily dismissed his efforts as hunger strike, but Lanrewould not be deterred by such an ungodly comment.

He became a devoted Christian about three years ago. Then, he was very sick and at the point of death. He would have died if not for divine intervention. He knew that very well. In that debilitating illness, he had seen death coming. It was not a pleasant experience but he thanked God for everything. Today, that experience had become a testimony and one that he would never forget.

It was not for lack of a partner that he had remained single. No, far from it. There were many ladies of interest, one of which he could have easily married. There were Nike, Bimpe, Sola, Uchechi, among others. Even in the school where he presently taught, Ngozi, the CRK teacher and Becky, the Home Economics teacher could easily fit in to what he had in mind. What then was he waiting for?

The answer was simple. He was waiting for divine guidance. He would not just jump at the nearest lady as a life partner. Rather, he wanted God to pick the partner for him. Lanrebelieved that indeed, marriage should be for better or for worse. There should be no room for divorce, he always said.

There should be no gambling about it either. That was why he had been waiting on the Lord in this regard. The fasting was over now, and he was waiting for an answer. He would have actually preferred an instant answer, but then, man proposes, God disposes.

After breaking his fasting with pap and moinmoin, he sipped orange juice and sat comfortably in his cozy sitting room. The television was on, but his mind was not there. Rather, he was thinking about who would join him as his life partner in his home. He prayed for the umpteenth time for a speedy answer. He was still ruminating over the issue when he slept off.

He was cultivating the land. The soil was dry and hard but he was trying his best to till it. His intention was to get water from the nearby stream and use it to irrigate the soil after the cultivation.

He was hard-working, no doubt. Just keep working diligently, he told himself. There would be reward for your hard labor. Remember nothing good comes easy. He thought about what he would plant on the farm. Apart from the cash crops, he would also plant fruits and vegetables. He and his family would have a good time. He believed in taking good care of his wife and children. Yes, they would all enjoy the fruits of his labor.

There is a better place you can cultivate, a voice told him. He stopped his work and looked around. He didn't see anyone. He wanted to continue his work, but the voice repeated itself. He stopped again.

Why don't you look beyond where you are? Look at where your wife is standing.

Truly, about one hundred meter away, his wife stood on a grassland that was lush. From afar, she smiled at him and beckoned. Lanresmiled and went to meet her.

'My darling husband, don't you think this place is better?' She spoke more on the viability of the place she preferred.

'It is.' He nodded his agreement. 'This place is indeed much better.' He patted his wife and she laughed.

Romance › Re: Nothing Goes For Nothing by OT2024(op): 5:03pm On Feb 08

Christianity Etc › Re: Bible Sales Hit Record High In UK As Gen Z Buys More Bibles by OT2024: 12:25pm On Jan 18

Good development.
Bible is the book of life.

Romance › Re: Something Fishy About Ms Kay by OT2024(op): 12:21pm On Jan 18

I tried to keep my voice neutral. “It’s strange... hearing all this now.”

“I know,” she said, almost in a whisper. “You were probably angry with me. Maybe you still are.”

I looked away, not immediately answering.

“I was,” I said at last. “Very. You didn’t just leave. You erased me from your life without warning. Without closure.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “I didn’t know how else to do it. I thought I was doing the right thing—starting over, moving forward. But now I realize I just ran away.”

There was a silence between us, not awkward, but thick with unspoken emotions and shared history.

“I’m not here to pick up where we left off,” she added, as if sensing my hesitation. “I’m not here to make demands or complicate your life. I just... I wanted to see you. To know you’re okay. Maybe say sorry.”

Her voice caught on that last word. It wasn’t dramatic. It was genuine.

I looked at her, studying her face—the same face I had once memorized like scripture. Time had changed her in small ways, but the essence remained.

“Well,” I said, breaking the silence with a soft smile. “Thanks for saying that. It means more than you know.”

She smiled back. “You always did have a soft heart, Dave.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve just learned how unpredictable life can be.”

She nodded, then reached for a biscuit and bit into it slowly, almost thoughtfully.

“So,” she said after a beat. “What about you? Anyone special in your life now?”

I hesitated.

Now wasn’t exactly the best time to talk about Damilola, or the mess with Ms. Kay’s missing bra, or how my life currently felt like a Nigerian soap opera with an unstable plotline.

“Yeah,” I said finally. “There is someone. It's… complicated.”

She gave a knowing smile. “It always is.”

"It's okay," I said in a way to console her. "In life, we stumble and move on again. I know God has a purpose for everything. I'm sure your real man will still come your way."

"Dave, that's ...why I'm here. I've come to plead and to ask that we continue from where we stopped. Please, Dave, forgive me."
I forced a smile. "I've forgiven you. After all, to err is human and to forgive divine. However, it will not be possible for us to continue from where we stopped for the simple reason that I'm in a relationship with another lady. You don't expect that I will be without a lover for the past two years, do you?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't. But since she has broken up with you, is she not a past issue?"

I looked confused. "Broken up with who?"

Now, she too looked slightly confused. "Hasn't she broken up with you?"

"Says who? There's no such thing, my dear."

She smiled wanly. "Come on, Dave. Be sincere. She broke up with you over the allegation of your infidelity."

I was amazed. "Where did hear you such story? There's no such thing!"

"Let's try to be sincere to each other. Your ex called Tope that she has got a good proof of your unDamilolafulness and that it was all over between the two of you."

"Tope told you that my girlfriend said all these?" I asked testily.

"Yes. Is it not true?"

I wasn't happy with what Tope did, but I tried not to show it. When Damilola called him about what she saw in my room and her decision to severe the relationship, was Tope, as a friend, not supposed to call me and asked about what went wrong? He didn' do that. Rather, he informed Funmi that the coast was clear for her.

"Well, it was true that my girlfriend, Damilola, and I had altercation this morning. It was only a minor issue which I believe would be settled soonest."

Funmi disagreed. "A minor issue, yet she vowed that the relationship is over?"

I grimaced. "Anyway, there's no need we argue over that. The fact still remains that you can't just walk in now and expect that our relationship will go on like before."

"I understand, Dave. You need time to make some adjustment. I'll wait. Can we, at least, be friends, for now?"

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Literature › Re: Something Fishy About Ms. Kay by OT2024(op): 12:20pm On Jan 18

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Romance › Re: Beyond The Glamour by OT2024(op): 12:12pm On Jan 18

“Be careful what you dig up, Femi. Some truths are too heavy to carry alone.”

And then she was gone.

---

I sat there long after she left, the paper still folded in my hand, the whisky untouched now.

Around me, The Jewel Club carried on—quiet power trading hands in nods, in silences, in glances.

I looked down at the coordinates again.

Something was happening.

And I had crossed the point of no return.

***

The envelope came on a Wednesday.

No stamp. No courier mark. Just slid under my apartment door sometime between 3:00 and 3:40 p.m.—the window I used the downstairs kiosk for bread and the dry cleaner for my shirts.

Cream paper again. Always cream.

Inside, a name I recognized immediately:

Alhaji Sani Dikko – Lagos Inland Revenue Service (LIRS)
– Unreported offshore accounts
– 3 audio files (2 hrs total)
– Surveillance folder: “Rooster/Port”
– Trust no one. Not even your editor.

At the bottom: coordinates—this time pointing to a locked mailbox in Dolphin Estate.

No instructions. No signature. Just the facts.

But facts, I was beginning to learn, were rarely ever simple.

---

I sat with the envelope in my lap for over an hour.

Alhaji Dikko wasn’t just anyone. He was one of the untouchables—a quiet titan in Lagos politics. A man who never gave interviews. Never showed emotion. He controlled revenue collection with the precision of a man counting other people’s heartbeats.

I’d written about him before—but from afar. Safe pieces. Public record. Quotes from press releases. The sort of journalism that wins awards but never changes anything.

But this?

This was a kill shot.

If it was real.

And if it was traceable… it could kill me too.

---

Dolphin Estate – Thursday Evening

I waited until just after sunset.

I parked two streets away and walked in. No cameras. No one loitering. I kept my cap low, my steps casual. The mailbox was wedged between an abandoned salon and an empty-looking flat. I reached in, found a thick padded envelope at the back, and walked away without pausing.

Back home, I opened it.

Inside:

A flash drive

A printed list of transaction dates and account codes

A photograph: grainy, night-vision, showing Alhaji Dikko entering what looked like a private jet hangar

The flash drive contained three audio files—recorded calls.

The first voice was unmistakable: Dikko.

The second: A woman. British accent. Precise. Cold.

Dikko: “The Swiss end needs to be routed through the South African front. I can’t afford direct movement anymore.”
Woman: “Understood. But the funds need to clear before the 29th, or London will ask questions.”

The third voice—on file two—sounded almost familiar.

Almost.

It wasn’t just corruption.

It was transnational laundering. The kind of story that took down governments in other countries.

Here? It could take down me.

---

The Dilemma

I didn’t sleep that night.

Not because of the danger—but because of the decision.

Do I break the story?

Or do I play the game?

If I publish, I put a target on my back. I risk Solape. I risk my colleagues. And Betty’s note had been clear:

Trust no one. Not even your editor.

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Literature › Re: Beyond The Glamour by OT2024(op): 12:11pm On Jan 18

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Christianity Etc › Re: Appreciation of God by OT2024(op): 12:01pm On Jan 18

A Prayer of Gratitude for Light

O God of wisdom, Ancient of Days,
I thank You for knowledge poured like rain,
For light that breaks the stubborn dark,
For truth that frees the searching mind.
You opened my eyes beyond the seen,
Unveiled the secrets of Your will;
What books could not fully explain,
Your Spirit whispered, clear and still.
When I was lost in questions deep,
You gave me understanding sure;
You turned confusion into peace,
And made my trembling faith mature.
Thank You for revelation’s fire,
That burns away the veil of doubt;
For insight born not of my strength,
But grace You freely breathed about.
Let all I know return as praise,
Let all I see reflect Your name;
For knowledge lives, and truth endures,
When rooted in Your holy flame.
Amen.

Christianity Etc › Re: Appreciation of God by OT2024(op): 1:23pm On Dec 30, 2025

LORD 🙏 thank You for keeping me safe till today.

Thank You Lord.

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