If you’re reading this, it’s too late. My mind is made up already.

I am only here to tell the tragic tale of the worthless life I lived.

The names mentioned here are real. The events are narrated it occurred in real life. I will do my best not to lie or exaggerate any situation.

The link to this page would be found next to my body.

Here goes.





It all began on the 21st of June, 1995. My 15 year old mother pushing me out of her womb with her mother, My dearly beloved Grandmother expertly aiding my birth.

The compound was nothing to right home about. The dilapidated bungalow with rusted iron roofing sheets, several goats and fowls bleating and clucking all over the place would have been an eyesore to you but it was this place I grew to call home.


“It’s a girl.” Grandma smiled as she informed my fatigued mother in our local dialect.

My Mother, Mrs Irene Adaeze Korie, hissed loudly. “Finally, I can go back to school. When will my stomach be flat again?”


My Grandma scolded her but that did nothing to quench the burning hatred my own mother had towards me.


Irene refused to hold or feed me. All these responsibilities fell on Grandma’s shoulders.


Okay...at this point I know you’d be a bit confused as to why she hated me so much, I will gladly explain.

According to what Grandma told me, Irene met my father, Chief Njoku Peter in the year 1994. Irene was on holiday from her boarding school and as it was common then, she and her friends were going from house to house to do menial chores for some money.

That fateful day, My father’s wife, Lady Eunice gave them some chores to do. While they worked, my father drove into his compound.

When he saw the girls, he gifted them some cash and picked a particular interest in Irene. That was how their weird and deceitful love began in his massive and affluent mansion.


Grandma said she noticed a few changes in Irene’s behavior. Irene began wearing new clothes and staying out late. Irene formed the habit of locking the door to her room whenever she was out. One day, Grandma broke into her room and was shocked when she saw tins of milk, butter, jewelries, new clothes and some cash hidden under her bed.

That evening, Grandma flogged and interrogated her on how she got such money. Irene refused to tell her the truth. Grandma grounded her but like every rebellious teenager, she kept on sneaking out to see my father.



One afternoon, Grandma was in her market stall selling her vegetables when she sighted Lady Eunice alongside another influential woman in the village, behind them were two hefty boys.

People stared curiously at them including my own Grandmother who was oblivious of the facet that they were headed towards her.


“Are you the so called mother of Irene?” Lady Eunice rudely asked.

Before Grandma could give an answer, the boys had already turned her table, they stomped all over her vegetables as they destroyed her goods.

“What is the meaning of all these?” Grandma looked around, hoping her fellow market women would come to her aid but they all watched helplessly. Lady Eunice was a brutal woman.


“Tell your prostitute daughter to leave my husband or this would look like child’s play to what will happen next.”


My Grandmother was distraught. The accusation was worse than the damage done to her goods.




“Mama, he loves me and I love him too. He said he will marry me-“


“ Mechie ọnụ! You want to be a second wife? Where is your faith? Hmm! You don’t know Lady Eunice... What of your school?!”

“He said he will send me to university.”


“You are a fool!”

They dragged back and forth on the issue. Nothing Grandma said could change Irene’s mind about the Chief as she still kept on seeing him.

After the holidays, Irene went back to her boarding school but was expelled and sent back home after some weeks due to her pregnancy.

She and my Grandmother got into a heated argument that very day she came home. Irene packed her bags and left the house.


My father saw her coming into his office with her bags. She told him she was pregnant. It ended with His workers throwing her and her bags out of his company’s gates.

Grandma reported the case to the elders. They supported my Father and claimed my mother was a wayward girl. The elders tagged Grandma a witch who killed her husband and two sons. They threatened to burn down my late Grandfather’s house and exile them if they persisted.


My Grandma felt defeated. There was no way a poor widow like her could fight a wealthy chief especially with the money hungry elders.


The elders made her and Irene swear that the pregnancy allegation on Chief Njoku was false . I, the unborn child was tagged a bastard with no father.


As if that wasn’t enough, Grandma was excommunicated from the CWO (catholic women organization)in church. This deeply saddened her as she was a staunch believer.

Irene on the other hand was still in love with Chief and still had hopes of him accepting her pregnancy. When she was 5 months pregnant, she walked in looking tattered and bruises were all over her face.

Grandma was alarmed and kept on asking what had happened.

“Mama, I only went there to beg him to accept the pregnancy. I swore that he is the only man I’ve ever been with. He said he is not the father.
I told him I needed some money to buy things for
the baby. He asked his workers to send me out of his office.”

Grandma told Irene she deserved the beating.

Irene was 8 months pregnant when she heard the my father was getting married to a second wife- A beautiful graduate.

I guess it was at this point my biological mother transferred the sins of my father to me and swore to hate me like I was the spawn of the devil.




Mrs Adaeze Irene korie. I hope you get to see this. Thank you for making my childhood hell even into adulthood you never showed me an atom of love or kindness. You treated me like I was poop. You kept on taunting and tormenting me to the extent I believed I wasn’t good enough. God knows I tried to please you and make you see I was good and lovable but your hatred remained adamant.

You show love to your other children freely. Am I not also your child?

Thank God I had Grandma who showed me love and kindness. She was the only real family I had.


* sorry I am a bit exhausted and overwhelmed. I haven’t let out my emotions like this before as I am deeply introverted. I need a break. To be continued shortly.

I didn't read all this, but all I can say is you made it this far for a reason.




Once there is life then there is hope. God bless you.

Abeg if you know say you wan commit suicide and your mind is made up try donate some of your organs to a nearby hospital..no waste your self..at least be useful in death..

Hello. Don’t go killing yourself. Abuse is not the worst anyone can have - it is suicide! It’ll only land you in hell! God is willing to accept anyone whose father and mother rejects.

Psalms 27:10 says :-
“When my father and my mother forsake me,
then the LORD will take me up.”

Get on your knees right now and give your life to Jesus. Tell Him your situation and He will turn things around for you!

Hmmmm

Guys we need to stop her,hello young lady where are you? like can anyone here visit you,I'm in owerri. If you are do let me know. Please I'm begging you don't kill yourself,I'm passing similar situation now but it's fine. Please and please don't

You sound like a strong woman, don't do it. If not coming this far despite all the odds will be for nothing.

You have/had Grandma, why don't you live for her and yourself?

If you need someone neutral to chat/talk to call 07036886819.

I'm in Ph..babe if you need a shoulder to cry on..no need to kill yourself

Xcide:
If you’re reading this, it’s too late. My mind is made up already.

I am only here to tell the tragic tale of the worthless life I lived.

The names mentioned here are real. The events are narrated it occurred in real life. I will do my best not to lie or exaggerate any situation.

The link to this page would be found next to my body.

Here goes.





It all began on the 21st of June, 1995. My 15 year old mother pushing me out of her womb with her mother, My dearly beloved Grandmother expertly aiding my birth.

The compound was nothing to right home about. The dilapidated bungalow with rusted iron roofing sheets, several goats and fowls bleating and clucking all over the place would have been an eyesore to you but it was this place I grew to call home.


“It’s a girl.” Grandma smiled as she informed my fatigued mother in our local dialect.

My Mother, Mrs Irene Adaeze Korie, hissed loudly. “Finally, I can go back to school. When will my stomach be flat again?”


My Grandma scolded her but that did nothing to quench the burning hatred my own mother had towards me.


Irene refused to hold or feed me. All these responsibilities fell on Grandma’s shoulders.


Okay...at this point I know you’d be a bit confused as to why she hated me so much, I will gladly explain.

According to what Grandma told me, Irene met my father, Chief Njoku Peter in the year 1994. Irene was on holiday from her boarding school and as it was common then, she and her friends were going from house to house to do menial chores for some money.

That fateful day, My father’s wife, Lady Eunice gave them some chores to do. While they worked, my father drove into his compound.

When he saw the girls, he gifted them some cash and picked a particular interest in Irene. That was how their weird and deceitful love began in his massive and affluent mansion.


Grandma said she noticed a few changes in Irene’s behavior. Irene began wearing new clothes and staying out late. Irene formed the habit of locking the door to her room whenever she was out. One day, Grandma broke into her room and was shocked when she saw tins of milk, butter, jewelries, new clothes and some cash hidden under her bed.

That evening, Grandma flogged and interrogated her on how she got such money. Irene refused to tell her the truth. Grandma grounded her but like every rebellious teenager, she kept on sneaking out to see my father.



One afternoon, Grandma was in her market stall selling her vegetables when she sighted Lady Eunice alongside another influential woman in the village, behind them were two hefty boys.

People stared curiously at them including my own Grandmother who was oblivious of the facet that they were headed towards her.


“Are you the so called mother of Irene?” Lady Eunice rudely asked.

Before Grandma could give an answer, the boys had already turned her table, they stomped all over her vegetables as they destroyed her goods.

“What is the meaning of all these?” Grandma looked around, hoping her fellow market women would come to her aid but they all watched helplessly. Lady Eunice was a brutal woman.


“Tell your prostitute daughter to leave my husband or this would look like child’s play to what will happen next.”


My Grandmother was distraught. The accusation was worse than the damage done to her goods.




“Mama, he loves me and I love him too. He said he will marry me-“


“ Mechie ọnụ! You want to be a second wife? Where is your faith? Hmm! You don’t know Lady Eunice... What of your school?!”

“He said he will send me to university.”


“You are a fool!”

They dragged back and forth on the issue. Nothing Grandma said could change Irene’s mind about the Chief as she still kept on seeing him.

After the holidays, Irene went back to her boarding school but was expelled and sent back home after some weeks due to her pregnancy.

She and my Grandmother got into a heated argument that very day she came home. Irene packed her bags and left the house.


My father saw her coming into his office with her bags. She told him she was pregnant. It ended with His workers throwing her and her bags out of his company’s gates.

Grandma reported the case to the elders. They supported my Father and claimed my mother was a wayward girl. The elders tagged Grandma a witch who killed her husband and two sons. They threatened to burn down my late Grandfather’s house and exile them if they persisted.


My Grandma felt defeated. There was no way a poor widow like her could fight a wealthy chief especially with the money hungry elders.


The elders made her and Irene swear that the pregnancy allegation on Chief Njoku was false . I, the unborn child was tagged a bastard with no father.


As if that wasn’t enough, Grandma was excommunicated from the CWO (catholic women organization)in church. This deeply saddened her as she was a staunch believer.

Irene on the other hand was still in love with Chief and still had hopes of him accepting her pregnancy. When she was 5 months pregnant, she walked in looking tattered and bruises were all over her face.

Grandma was alarmed and kept on asking what had happened.

“Mama, I only went there to beg him to accept the pregnancy. I swore that he is the only man I’ve ever been with. He said he is not the father.
I told him I needed some money to buy things for
the baby. He asked his workers to send me out of his office.”

Grandma told Irene she deserved the beating.

Irene was 8 months pregnant when she heard the my father was getting married to a second wife- A beautiful graduate.

I guess it was at this point my biological mother transferred the sins of my father to me and swore to hate me like I was the spawn of the devil.




Mrs Adaeze Irene korie. I hope you get to see this. Thank you for making my childhood hell even into adulthood you never showed me an atom of love or kindness. You treated me like I was poop. You kept on taunting and tormenting me to the extent I believed I wasn’t good enough. God knows I tried to please you and make you see I was good and lovable but your hatred remained adamant.

You show love to your other children freely. Am I not also your child?

Thank God I had Grandma who showed me love and kindness. She was the only real family I had.


* sorry I am a bit exhausted and overwhelmed. I haven’t let out my emotions like this before as I am deeply introverted. I need a break. To be continued shortly.

you had to open a new Moniker to post this?? what exactly are you hiding since you won't be needing it again when you are gone

Guys, are there no therapists in Nigeria? The things I read here are very worrisome. This idea that depression/chronic anxiety is a white man's thing is the most ridiculous thing ever. Nigerians need to start taking mental health seriously.

Xcide:
If you’re reading this, it’s too late. My mind is made up already.

I am only here to tell the tragic tale of the worthless life I lived.

The names mentioned here are real. The events are narrated it occurred in real life. I will do my best not to lie or exaggerate any situation.

The link to this page would be found next to my body.

Here goes.





It all began on the 21st of June, 1995. My 15 year old mother pushing me out of her womb with her mother, My dearly beloved Grandmother expertly aiding my birth.

The compound was nothing to right home about. The dilapidated bungalow with rusted iron roofing sheets, several goats and fowls bleating and clucking all over the place would have been an eyesore to you but it was this place I grew to call home.


“It’s a girl.” Grandma smiled as she informed my fatigued mother in our local dialect.

My Mother, Mrs Irene Adaeze Korie, hissed loudly. “Finally, I can go back to school. When will my stomach be flat again?”


My Grandma scolded her but that did nothing to quench the burning hatred my own mother had towards me.


Irene refused to hold or feed me. All these responsibilities fell on Grandma’s shoulders.


Okay...at this point I know you’d be a bit confused as to why she hated me so much, I will gladly explain.

According to what Grandma told me, Irene met my father, Chief Njoku Peter in the year 1994. Irene was on holiday from her boarding school and as it was common then, she and her friends were going from house to house to do menial chores for some money.

That fateful day, My father’s wife, Lady Eunice gave them some chores to do. While they worked, my father drove into his compound.

When he saw the girls, he gifted them some cash and picked a particular interest in Irene. That was how their weird and deceitful love began in his massive and affluent mansion.


Grandma said she noticed a few changes in Irene’s behavior. Irene began wearing new clothes and staying out late. Irene formed the habit of locking the door to her room whenever she was out. One day, Grandma broke into her room and was shocked when she saw tins of milk, butter, jewelries, new clothes and some cash hidden under her bed.

That evening, Grandma flogged and interrogated her on how she got such money. Irene refused to tell her the truth. Grandma grounded her but like every rebellious teenager, she kept on sneaking out to see my father.



One afternoon, Grandma was in her market stall selling her vegetables when she sighted Lady Eunice alongside another influential woman in the village, behind them were two hefty boys.

People stared curiously at them including my own Grandmother who was oblivious of the facet that they were headed towards her.


“Are you the so called mother of Irene?” Lady Eunice rudely asked.

Before Grandma could give an answer, the boys had already turned her table, they stomped all over her vegetables as they destroyed her goods.

“What is the meaning of all these?” Grandma looked around, hoping her fellow market women would come to her aid but they all watched helplessly. Lady Eunice was a brutal woman.


“Tell your prostitute daughter to leave my husband or this would look like child’s play to what will happen next.”


My Grandmother was distraught. The accusation was worse than the damage done to her goods.




“Mama, he loves me and I love him too. He said he will marry me-“


“ Mechie ọnụ! You want to be a second wife? Where is your faith? Hmm! You don’t know Lady Eunice... What of your school?!”

“He said he will send me to university.”


“You are a fool!”

They dragged back and forth on the issue. Nothing Grandma said could change Irene’s mind about the Chief as she still kept on seeing him.

After the holidays, Irene went back to her boarding school but was expelled and sent back home after some weeks due to her pregnancy.

She and my Grandmother got into a heated argument that very day she came home. Irene packed her bags and left the house.


My father saw her coming into his office with her bags. She told him she was pregnant. It ended with His workers throwing her and her bags out of his company’s gates.

Grandma reported the case to the elders. They supported my Father and claimed my mother was a wayward girl. The elders tagged Grandma a witch who killed her husband and two sons. They threatened to burn down my late Grandfather’s house and exile them if they persisted.


My Grandma felt defeated. There was no way a poor widow like her could fight a wealthy chief especially with the money hungry elders.


The elders made her and Irene swear that the pregnancy allegation on Chief Njoku was false . I, the unborn child was tagged a bastard with no father.


As if that wasn’t enough, Grandma was excommunicated from the CWO (catholic women organization)in church. This deeply saddened her as she was a staunch believer.

Irene on the other hand was still in love with Chief and still had hopes of him accepting her pregnancy. When she was 5 months pregnant, she walked in looking tattered and bruises were all over her face.

Grandma was alarmed and kept on asking what had happened.

“Mama, I only went there to beg him to accept the pregnancy. I swore that he is the only man I’ve ever been with. He said he is not the father.
I told him I needed some money to buy things for
the baby. He asked his workers to send me out of his office.”

Grandma told Irene she deserved the beating.

Irene was 8 months pregnant when she heard the my father was getting married to a second wife- A beautiful graduate.

I guess it was at this point my biological mother transferred the sins of my father to me and swore to hate me like I was the spawn of the devil.




Mrs Adaeze Irene korie. I hope you get to see this. Thank you for making my childhood hell even into adulthood you never showed me an atom of love or kindness. You treated me like I was poop. You kept on taunting and tormenting me to the extent I believed I wasn’t good enough. God knows I tried to please you and make you see I was good and lovable but your hatred remained adamant.

You show love to your other children freely. Am I not also your child?

Thank God I had Grandma who showed me love and kindness. She was the only real family I had.


* sorry I am a bit exhausted and overwhelmed. I haven’t let out my emotions like this before as I am deeply introverted. I need a break. To be continued shortly.

You write very well. Why waste your life and your talent? You need to see a counselor. Your situation is not the worst. Try and make something out of your life and put your mother to shame. Like they say " success is the best revenge ".

Suicide no be am, abeg

It is well with your soul but I do hope this story is fiction and not real... suicide isn’t the way out , you don’t even know what’s on the other side after death...

I did not read it story cos it's too long abeg better man up and face life except u want to chicken out like a dumb coward and take ur life.seems ur going through stuff and so what ? Na only u don go through things ,thee are people in the hospitals with terminal diseases begging for life u dey here dey yarn kpa kpo.there are people that lived on the streets all thier lives and still made a name for themselves.if na pity u dey find sorry u ain't gonna get it from me better move ur lazy ass and get busy.


This generation sef any small thing u wan kee urself ,it's like ur a stupid person don't u know say woteva u feel ur going through someone has gone through worse and came out .u wan kee ur self na. it won't change anything u will still be a sore looser .mumu dey smell.if u like don't wake up and do something about ur situation cos nobody ain't doin poop for u niggah



I tire for the kind children wey Dem dey born these days .that coconut head wey u use think to kee urself shey u no for use think better thing?

If una like attack me the dude needs to quit being a pusi and man up.

If you have made up your mind. I have an assignment for you. Don't die like a chicken.

Xcide, imagine you being in an elated position/office in the nearest future. Imagine you successful and able to live a better life wherein your mother will say secretly to people, "She's my daughter."

Killing yourself is not and will never be an option.
There are people out there who care about you, wanted just a little of your attention to make their day a memorable one.

I sure do understand how it feels when one gives up. I have been there. But do you know what keeps me going even when I get depressed, down, rejected and unwanted? It's inner peace.

Don't ever try to kill yourself because it will be a huge relief to whoever wants to see you fall. They'll only say, "Good riddance." But give no one such chances. Let your success bring them to shame.

Just as someone once offered to check on me once in a while, I'll also offer to check on you once in a while, "if" you don't mind.
And remember, suicide is not and will never be an option.

Pathetic.
Please don't kill yourself.

please do fast and go, why wait when you can just do it tonight? and remember to use rope not sniper so you won't create much mess for whoever will dispose your body. buy better aboki rope.

Considering your writing skill, your dying would only be a waste. Don't die a coward. You can do your part to make the world better & liveable for others & die honorably then

Xcide:
If you’re reading this, it’s too late. My mind is made up already.

I am only here to tell the tragic tale of the worthless life I lived.

The names mentioned here are real. The events are narrated it occurred in real life. I will do my best not to lie or exaggerate any situation.

The link to this page would be found next to my body.

Here goes.





It all began on the 21st of June, 1995. My 15 year old mother pushing me out of her womb with her mother, My dearly beloved Grandmother expertly aiding my birth.

The compound was nothing to right home about. The dilapidated bungalow with rusted iron roofing sheets, several goats and fowls bleating and clucking all over the place would have been an eyesore to you but it was this place I grew to call home.


“It’s a girl.” Grandma smiled as she informed my fatigued mother in our local dialect.

My Mother, Mrs Irene Adaeze Korie, hissed loudly. “Finally, I can go back to school. When will my stomach be flat again?”


My Grandma scolded her but that did nothing to quench the burning hatred my own mother had towards me.


Irene refused to hold or feed me. All these responsibilities fell on Grandma’s shoulders.


Okay...at this point I know you’d be a bit confused as to why she hated me so much, I will gladly explain.

According to what Grandma told me, Irene met my father, Chief Njoku Peter in the year 1994. Irene was on holiday from her boarding school and as it was common then, she and her friends were going from house to house to do menial chores for some money.

That fateful day, My father’s wife, Lady Eunice gave them some chores to do. While they worked, my father drove into his compound.

When he saw the girls, he gifted them some cash and picked a particular interest in Irene. That was how their weird and deceitful love began in his massive and affluent mansion.


Grandma said she noticed a few changes in Irene’s behavior. Irene began wearing new clothes and staying out late. Irene formed the habit of locking the door to her room whenever she was out. One day, Grandma broke into her room and was shocked when she saw tins of milk, butter, jewelries, new clothes and some cash hidden under her bed.

That evening, Grandma flogged and interrogated her on how she got such money. Irene refused to tell her the truth. Grandma grounded her but like every rebellious teenager, she kept on sneaking out to see my father.



One afternoon, Grandma was in her market stall selling her vegetables when she sighted Lady Eunice alongside another influential woman in the village, behind them were two hefty boys.

People stared curiously at them including my own Grandmother who was oblivious of the facet that they were headed towards her.


“Are you the so called mother of Irene?” Lady Eunice rudely asked.

Before Grandma could give an answer, the boys had already turned her table, they stomped all over her vegetables as they destroyed her goods.

“What is the meaning of all these?” Grandma looked around, hoping her fellow market women would come to her aid but they all watched helplessly. Lady Eunice was a brutal woman.


“Tell your prostitute daughter to leave my husband or this would look like child’s play to what will happen next.”


My Grandmother was distraught. The accusation was worse than the damage done to her goods.




“Mama, he loves me and I love him too. He said he will marry me-“


“ Mechie ọnụ! You want to be a second wife? Where is your faith? Hmm! You don’t know Lady Eunice... What of your school?!”

“He said he will send me to university.”


“You are a fool!”

They dragged back and forth on the issue. Nothing Grandma said could change Irene’s mind about the Chief as she still kept on seeing him.

After the holidays, Irene went back to her boarding school but was expelled and sent back home after some weeks due to her pregnancy.

She and my Grandmother got into a heated argument that very day she came home. Irene packed her bags and left the house.


My father saw her coming into his office with her bags. She told him she was pregnant. It ended with His workers throwing her and her bags out of his company’s gates.

Grandma reported the case to the elders. They supported my Father and claimed my mother was a wayward girl. The elders tagged Grandma a witch who killed her husband and two sons. They threatened to burn down my late Grandfather’s house and exile them if they persisted.


My Grandma felt defeated. There was no way a poor widow like her could fight a wealthy chief especially with the money hungry elders.


The elders made her and Irene swear that the pregnancy allegation on Chief Njoku was false . I, the unborn child was tagged a bastard with no father.


As if that wasn’t enough, Grandma was excommunicated from the CWO (catholic women organization)in church. This deeply saddened her as she was a staunch believer.

Irene on the other hand was still in love with Chief and still had hopes of him accepting her pregnancy. When she was 5 months pregnant, she walked in looking tattered and bruises were all over her face.

Grandma was alarmed and kept on asking what had happened.

“Mama, I only went there to beg him to accept the pregnancy. I swore that he is the only man I’ve ever been with. He said he is not the father.
I told him I needed some money to buy things for
the baby. He asked his workers to send me out of his office.”

Grandma told Irene she deserved the beating.

Irene was 8 months pregnant when she heard the my father was getting married to a second wife- A beautiful graduate.

I guess it was at this point my biological mother transferred the sins of my father to me and swore to hate me like I was the spawn of the devil.




Mrs Adaeze Irene korie. I hope you get to see this. Thank you for making my childhood hell even into adulthood you never showed me an atom of love or kindness. You treated me like I was poop. You kept on taunting and tormenting me to the extent I believed I wasn’t good enough. God knows I tried to please you and make you see I was good and lovable but your hatred remained adamant.

You show love to your other children freely. Am I not also your child?

Thank God I had Grandma who showed me love and kindness. She was the only real family I had.


* sorry I am a bit exhausted and overwhelmed. I haven’t let out my emotions like this before as I am deeply introverted. I need a break. To be continued shortly.

You made it this far. You will be fine. Can you on me? Pls. Pls don't die. We need you. Email me pls. I'll.be the best friend you'll ever have. What a warrior

Nne you are stronger than what you are passing through. There are persons with stories ten times worse than yours, today, they are standing tall... Do not do it... Do not do it... Listen to the voice of reason

Please for God sake, don't kill your self.
Hope for better days and don't give up.
Stay strong, life isn't perfect for anyone.

Xcide:
If you’re reading this, it’s too late. My mind is made up already.

I am only here to tell the tragic tale of the worthless life I lived.

The names mentioned here are real. The events are narrated it occurred in real life. I will do my best not to lie or exaggerate any situation.

.....

You sound intelligent enough to make it on your own, why waste your life to spite your mother?

If you want to really spite your mum, suceed well in life and come back to rub it on her face.....read about Jeff Bezos story

I was kinda glued to the write up.. I will give you 10/10..

I guess you are 26 now, why not become a primary school teacher and teach punctuations, how to be a good writer..etc..

with that you are inpowering young people.. sharing love and talent... The children will remember you on how you inspired them...Why would you waste the talent u have? ..

You want to end your life for what reason exactly? Your mom has her issues but you've a grandma who loves you. There are people in more difficult situations than you. Find your reason to keep pushing and let that be your motivation.

One of my owerri people... nwanyi oma if u get to her and shes in owerri... hint me up lets ho give her a lil love and let her know there is more

Deborah98:
Guys we need to stop her,hello young lady where are you? like can anyone here visit you,I'm in owerri. If you are do let me know. Please I'm begging you don't kill yourself,I'm passing similar situation now but it's fine. Please and please don't

I'm in Ph..babe if you need a shoulder to cry on..no need to kill yourself

@op. If you hurt yourself, your mother who hated you, wins; and the grandmother who loved you, loses. Problems in life always sort themselves out eventually. Focus on growth instead and in a year's time, you'll look back and wonder why you paid so much attention to negative people. Soldier on. We probably only get one shot at life, use it well and to its fullest.

johnkey:
please do fast and go, why wait when you can just do it tonight? and remember to use rope not sniper so you won't create much mess for whoever will dispose your body. buy better aboki rope.

Not a joke. Never encourage someone who is depressed to be suicidal. It's at best juvenile and at worst, inhuman.

Do not take your life