• "The Bench by the Lake"

    Every Sunday, Evelyn sat on the old wooden bench by the lake, a worn book in her hands and a thermos of tea by her side. The bench had seen better days, but to her, it was sacred—etched with laughter, promises, and silent moments shared.

    Years ago, it was where she met Thomas.

    He was sketching the water, frowning at the light. She offered him a cup of tea, and he offered her a smile. That small exchange became a ritual. Sunday after Sunday, their conversations deepened, laughter came easier, and so did the silence between them.

    One day, he simply said, “Let’s not spend Sundays apart anymore,” and she said yes with a nod, heart full.

    Decades passed, and Thomas grew slower, gentler, but never stopped sketching her by the lake. When he was gone, Evelyn returned to the bench, their bench, every Sunday.

    She didn’t read much anymore. Just watched the water, feeling the warmth of memories wrapped around her like sunlight.

    Love, she knew, doesn’t vanish. It lingers—in the worn bench, in the wind off the lake, and in the quiet spaces where hearts once met.

    #knowledge #stella
    "The Bench by the Lake" Every Sunday, Evelyn sat on the old wooden bench by the lake, a worn book in her hands and a thermos of tea by her side. The bench had seen better days, but to her, it was sacred—etched with laughter, promises, and silent moments shared. Years ago, it was where she met Thomas. He was sketching the water, frowning at the light. She offered him a cup of tea, and he offered her a smile. That small exchange became a ritual. Sunday after Sunday, their conversations deepened, laughter came easier, and so did the silence between them. One day, he simply said, “Let’s not spend Sundays apart anymore,” and she said yes with a nod, heart full. Decades passed, and Thomas grew slower, gentler, but never stopped sketching her by the lake. When he was gone, Evelyn returned to the bench, their bench, every Sunday. She didn’t read much anymore. Just watched the water, feeling the warmth of memories wrapped around her like sunlight. Love, she knew, doesn’t vanish. It lingers—in the worn bench, in the wind off the lake, and in the quiet spaces where hearts once met. #knowledge #stella
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  • My Only Crime Was Being a Slim Girl

    Sitting beneath the silver glow of the moon, Anita exhaled softly, fighting back the tears swelling in her eyes. She ran a hand through her thick, curly hair as her mind drifted back to the events of the day.

    The morning had started with a wave of nausea—it felt like her ****** was around the corner.

    “Ugh,” she groaned, stepping carefully down the brown wooden staircase. Her family was already seated at the breakfast table.

    “Good morning, everyone,” she greeted quietly, sliding into the seat beside her father. “I feel sick,” she muttered.

    “Well, if you ate more, maybe you wouldn’t feel that way. Look at you—you’re all bones and skeleton,” her sister Janice said, casually.

    The room fell silent.

    “Janice!” their mother snapped, eyes wide. “That’s a very rude thing to say to your younger sister. Apologize now.” She passed the golden Penny butter to Anita, whose face had already fallen.

    “I’m sorry. I was only joking. Anita knows that,” Janice mumbled with a nervous chuckle.

    Anita forced a smile and shrugged, but those words clung to her like a shadow.

    The rest of the day dragged by. She kept to herself, brushing off her friends’ attempts to cheer her up. At school, things only got worse. Amarachi, the class bully, didn’t hold back.

    “Anita, this your cloth no fit you at all. You be like broom wey dem dress up. You sure say breeze no go carry you one day?” she sneered.

    Laughter exploded around her. Anita didn’t flinch, but her heart did.

    Now, under the calm night sky, Anita sat in silence. She licked her lips, wondering why the world could be so cruel to someone who had done nothing wrong—except exist in her own skin.

    But as the breeze touched her cheek, she made a silent vow: she would no longer give anyone the power to define her worth. No more shrinking back. No more tears. No more allowing people to body-shame her into silence. She would love herself—slim body and all.

    Her only crime was being a slim girl. And that was no crime at all.

    ---

    Dear Reader,
    Have you ever been judged or body-shamed for being too slim, too ***, too short, too tall—just too something? You're not alone.
    Let’s speak up and lift each other.
    Drop a comment below if you've ever experienced body shaming and how you overcame it.
    Tag someone who needs to hear this.
    Share to spread love, not judgment.

    © Juliet Chinenyenwa Alex
    #grace
    #julietchinenyenwaalex
    My Only Crime Was Being a Slim Girl Sitting beneath the silver glow of the moon, Anita exhaled softly, fighting back the tears swelling in her eyes. She ran a hand through her thick, curly hair as her mind drifted back to the events of the day. The morning had started with a wave of nausea—it felt like her period was around the corner. “Ugh,” she groaned, stepping carefully down the brown wooden staircase. Her family was already seated at the breakfast table. “Good morning, everyone,” she greeted quietly, sliding into the seat beside her father. “I feel sick,” she muttered. “Well, if you ate more, maybe you wouldn’t feel that way. Look at you—you’re all bones and skeleton,” her sister Janice said, casually. The room fell silent. “Janice!” their mother snapped, eyes wide. “That’s a very rude thing to say to your younger sister. Apologize now.” She passed the golden Penny butter to Anita, whose face had already fallen. “I’m sorry. I was only joking. Anita knows that,” Janice mumbled with a nervous chuckle. Anita forced a smile and shrugged, but those words clung to her like a shadow. The rest of the day dragged by. She kept to herself, brushing off her friends’ attempts to cheer her up. At school, things only got worse. Amarachi, the class bully, didn’t hold back. “Anita, this your cloth no fit you at all. You be like broom wey dem dress up. You sure say breeze no go carry you one day?” she sneered. Laughter exploded around her. Anita didn’t flinch, but her heart did. Now, under the calm night sky, Anita sat in silence. She licked her lips, wondering why the world could be so cruel to someone who had done nothing wrong—except exist in her own skin. But as the breeze touched her cheek, she made a silent vow: she would no longer give anyone the power to define her worth. No more shrinking back. No more tears. No more allowing people to body-shame her into silence. She would love herself—slim body and all. Her only crime was being a slim girl. And that was no crime at all. --- Dear Reader, Have you ever been judged or body-shamed for being too slim, too fat, too short, too tall—just too something? You're not alone. Let’s speak up and lift each other. Drop a comment below if you've ever experienced body shaming and how you overcame it. Tag someone who needs to hear this. Share to spread love, not judgment. © Juliet Chinenyenwa Alex #grace #julietchinenyenwaalex
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  • #softsmile
    #passion

    Peace of mind is a beautiful gift, which only we can give to ourselves just by expecting nothing from anyone.

    GOOD MORNING
    *(PLEASE STAY SAFE)*
    #softsmile #passion Peace of mind is a beautiful gift, which only we can give to ourselves just by expecting nothing from anyone. GOOD MORNING *(PLEASE STAY SAFE)*
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  • Title: Adira and Zayd: The Flame and the Echo

    Adira had always known the forest, its whispers, and its balance. Since childhood, the trees and winds had guided her, giving her a purpose she had never questioned. She had been the Keeper of Echoes for years now, protecting the realm from the unseen chaos that sought to break its harmony. But despite the wisdom the forest had bestowed upon her, a nagging sense of something missing lingered in her heart.

    She had always wondered about her past—about her family. The village had raised her, and the elders had never spoken much of her lineage. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was bound to the forest, born during the rare lunar eclipse. But the stories she had heard spoke of one other child, one born under the same eclipse, whose fate was unknown.

    Zayd, on the other hand, had lived a life of freedom, roaming the lands without purpose or direction. He was a wanderer, a seeker of truths that didn’t exist in maps or legends. His only companions were the whispers in the wind and the journal he kept, filled with the fragments of forgotten places and ancient memories. Zayd’s life was unmarked by magic—at least, until the day he found the Ember Gate in the Ashen Wastes.

    The gate was an anomaly in the desert, a towering archway made of blackened stone, pulsing with hidden energy. Zayd had felt it before he saw it, an invisible pull that seemed to draw him closer. When his hand brushed the surface, the gate had activated, filling his vision with a city made of fire, its towers flickering like coals beneath a twilight sky. Then, the voice had come—old, aching, and full of fire.

    "You are the Flamebearer. Will you remember us?"

    Zayd didn't understand what it meant, but he felt a strange stirring within himself, like an ember reigniting after years of cold.

    It was then that the mark appeared—like a faint outline of a burning sun on his right hand. And in that moment, Zayd knew that his wandering had led him here for a reason. He wasn’t just a traveler. He was bound to something greater, something ancient.

    Back in the forest, Adira felt it too. The winds had changed, the trees had murmured a different name. It was a name she had never heard but felt in her bones: Zayd. Her heart ached as though she were being pulled in two directions at once.

    The forest had always been her guide, but now it seemed to be telling her something more. She had been born for the balance between worlds, but now, the forest whispered of another—someone who shared her blood, someone who was her counterpart.

    Adira stood at the edge of the forest, feeling the pull of destiny. The balance between realms was shifting, and she could feel a new presence on the horizon—someone who, like her, was touched by magic.


    ---

    Their Meeting:

    Zayd’s journey brought him to the outskirts of the village. The wind carried with it a familiar scent, something that reminded him of the fire that had burned within him since the day of the Ember Gate. As he walked toward the forest, the trees seemed to part for him, guiding him deeper into their embrace.

    And then he saw her—Adira, standing like a figure made of the forest itself. Her hair, wild and dark as the roots of the trees, moved with the wind as if it were alive. Her eyes, though filled with a deep wisdom, held something else—a recognition, a knowing.

    "You..." Zayd whispered, stepping forward.

    Adira’s heart skipped a beat. She had never seen him before, yet she knew him. The forest had told her of him. He was her brother, her younger brother , born under the same eclipse. The Flamebearer. The one who would help restore balance.

    "You’re not a dream," she said softly. "You’re real."

    Zayd smiled faintly. "I was wondering when we’d meet."

    The world around them seemed to hold its breath as if the very earth had been waiting for this moment. Adira stepped closer, her hand instinctively reaching out, and Zayd did the same. The moment their hands touched, the air hummed with energy, like two forces coming together to complete something long lost.

    "Fate brought us together," Adira said, her voice steady with newfound certainty. "We are the balance—fire and earth, flame and echo."

    Zayd nodded, his hand still resting in hers. "The Ember Gate opened for me. It told me I was the Flamebearer. But you... you were the one it called to, weren’t you?"

    Adira nodded. "The forest has always called me. But now, it calls to us both."

    Together, they were more than they could ever be alone. The balance was shifting, and with it, the fate of the world rested on their shoulders. They were siblings born of fire and forest, and together, they would protect both.


    ---



    Title: Adira and Zayd: The Flame and the Echo Adira had always known the forest, its whispers, and its balance. Since childhood, the trees and winds had guided her, giving her a purpose she had never questioned. She had been the Keeper of Echoes for years now, protecting the realm from the unseen chaos that sought to break its harmony. But despite the wisdom the forest had bestowed upon her, a nagging sense of something missing lingered in her heart. She had always wondered about her past—about her family. The village had raised her, and the elders had never spoken much of her lineage. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was bound to the forest, born during the rare lunar eclipse. But the stories she had heard spoke of one other child, one born under the same eclipse, whose fate was unknown. Zayd, on the other hand, had lived a life of freedom, roaming the lands without purpose or direction. He was a wanderer, a seeker of truths that didn’t exist in maps or legends. His only companions were the whispers in the wind and the journal he kept, filled with the fragments of forgotten places and ancient memories. Zayd’s life was unmarked by magic—at least, until the day he found the Ember Gate in the Ashen Wastes. The gate was an anomaly in the desert, a towering archway made of blackened stone, pulsing with hidden energy. Zayd had felt it before he saw it, an invisible pull that seemed to draw him closer. When his hand brushed the surface, the gate had activated, filling his vision with a city made of fire, its towers flickering like coals beneath a twilight sky. Then, the voice had come—old, aching, and full of fire. "You are the Flamebearer. Will you remember us?" Zayd didn't understand what it meant, but he felt a strange stirring within himself, like an ember reigniting after years of cold. It was then that the mark appeared—like a faint outline of a burning sun on his right hand. And in that moment, Zayd knew that his wandering had led him here for a reason. He wasn’t just a traveler. He was bound to something greater, something ancient. Back in the forest, Adira felt it too. The winds had changed, the trees had murmured a different name. It was a name she had never heard but felt in her bones: Zayd. Her heart ached as though she were being pulled in two directions at once. The forest had always been her guide, but now it seemed to be telling her something more. She had been born for the balance between worlds, but now, the forest whispered of another—someone who shared her blood, someone who was her counterpart. Adira stood at the edge of the forest, feeling the pull of destiny. The balance between realms was shifting, and she could feel a new presence on the horizon—someone who, like her, was touched by magic. --- Their Meeting: Zayd’s journey brought him to the outskirts of the village. The wind carried with it a familiar scent, something that reminded him of the fire that had burned within him since the day of the Ember Gate. As he walked toward the forest, the trees seemed to part for him, guiding him deeper into their embrace. And then he saw her—Adira, standing like a figure made of the forest itself. Her hair, wild and dark as the roots of the trees, moved with the wind as if it were alive. Her eyes, though filled with a deep wisdom, held something else—a recognition, a knowing. "You..." Zayd whispered, stepping forward. Adira’s heart skipped a beat. She had never seen him before, yet she knew him. The forest had told her of him. He was her brother, her younger brother , born under the same eclipse. The Flamebearer. The one who would help restore balance. "You’re not a dream," she said softly. "You’re real." Zayd smiled faintly. "I was wondering when we’d meet." The world around them seemed to hold its breath as if the very earth had been waiting for this moment. Adira stepped closer, her hand instinctively reaching out, and Zayd did the same. The moment their hands touched, the air hummed with energy, like two forces coming together to complete something long lost. "Fate brought us together," Adira said, her voice steady with newfound certainty. "We are the balance—fire and earth, flame and echo." Zayd nodded, his hand still resting in hers. "The Ember Gate opened for me. It told me I was the Flamebearer. But you... you were the one it called to, weren’t you?" Adira nodded. "The forest has always called me. But now, it calls to us both." Together, they were more than they could ever be alone. The balance was shifting, and with it, the fate of the world rested on their shoulders. They were siblings born of fire and forest, and together, they would protect both. ---
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  • Good morning

    Today when you dress up for work or any activity,make sure to compliment it with a smile cos you're never fully dressed without a smile , and yes try a little act of kindness today
    Shalom

    #Grace
    Good morning ❣️ Today when you dress up for work or any activity,make sure to compliment it with a smile cos you're never fully dressed without a smile 😊, and yes try a little act of kindness today Shalom #Grace
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  • A Barrow Pusher Became Rich After Public Insults and Abandonment

    Episode 1

    The sun was merciless that afternoon, pouring its heat down like punishment on the busy streets of Onitsha. Chijioke’s skin was browned from years of exposure, his hands calloused from pushing his barrow through tight markets and uphill roads. He had just finished delivering a load of yams to a woman in Ose Market and was making his way back, tired but hopeful. Business had been rough, but today, he had made a little more than usual. It was enough to buy garri, sugar and a little amount to send to his mother in the village.

    As he paused by a roadside kiosk to buy pure water, he heard a voice he hadn’t heard in years — sharp, familiar, and once dear.
    “Is that not Chijioke?” the voice echoed.
    He turned, and his heart thudded. Ada. Beautiful, proud Ada. The same Ada he had once given his heart to in their village school. Now she stood radiant in makeup and fancy clothes, flanked by two other girls.

    He smiled awkwardly, lifting his hand in greeting. “Ada, long time—”
    She cut him off with a mocking laugh. “Chijioke! You still dey push barrow? Haba! Na wa o. Look at your mates! They drive cars, they wear suits. And you?” Her friends burst into laughter. One even took out her phone to snap a picture.

    A small crowd began to gather. Traders stopped. Bus conductors paused their chants. People stared. Chijioke’s heart sank. He felt like the ground should open and swallow him.
    “I used to like you before,” Ada continued, “but now I thank God I said no to you. See your life!”

    He stood rooted, too stunned to speak. The bottle of water slipped from his hand. His eyes burned with unshed tears, but he wouldn’t let them fall. Instead, he picked up his barrow slowly, nodded once, and pushed it forward. Each step felt like a hundred lashes to his pride. People whispered, others laughed, some just watched. It was the longest walk of his life.

    By the time he reached the edge of the market, his legs were shaking. He veered off the main road, found a quiet spot behind an abandoned shop, and sat on a broken cement slab. For the first time in years, he let the tears come. He cried for his dreams, for his shame, for his father who had died too soon, for the mother whose body was fading from sickness. He cried for being mocked, for being poor, for being helpless.

    But somewhere in the middle of the tears, a thought began to grow. What if this was not the end? What if her insult was a mirror showing him who he’d become — and who he could still be? The pain turned into fire. A quiet vow formed in his heart: They will never laugh at me like this again.

    #worldwide
    #africanfolktales
    #Discipline
    #nakupenda
    A Barrow Pusher Became Rich After Public Insults and Abandonment Episode 1 The sun was merciless that afternoon, pouring its heat down like punishment on the busy streets of Onitsha. Chijioke’s skin was browned from years of exposure, his hands calloused from pushing his barrow through tight markets and uphill roads. He had just finished delivering a load of yams to a woman in Ose Market and was making his way back, tired but hopeful. Business had been rough, but today, he had made a little more than usual. It was enough to buy garri, sugar and a little amount to send to his mother in the village. As he paused by a roadside kiosk to buy pure water, he heard a voice he hadn’t heard in years — sharp, familiar, and once dear. “Is that not Chijioke?” the voice echoed. He turned, and his heart thudded. Ada. Beautiful, proud Ada. The same Ada he had once given his heart to in their village school. Now she stood radiant in makeup and fancy clothes, flanked by two other girls. He smiled awkwardly, lifting his hand in greeting. “Ada, long time—” She cut him off with a mocking laugh. “Chijioke! You still dey push barrow? Haba! Na wa o. Look at your mates! They drive cars, they wear suits. And you?” Her friends burst into laughter. One even took out her phone to snap a picture. A small crowd began to gather. Traders stopped. Bus conductors paused their chants. People stared. Chijioke’s heart sank. He felt like the ground should open and swallow him. “I used to like you before,” Ada continued, “but now I thank God I said no to you. See your life!” He stood rooted, too stunned to speak. The bottle of water slipped from his hand. His eyes burned with unshed tears, but he wouldn’t let them fall. Instead, he picked up his barrow slowly, nodded once, and pushed it forward. Each step felt like a hundred lashes to his pride. People whispered, others laughed, some just watched. It was the longest walk of his life. By the time he reached the edge of the market, his legs were shaking. He veered off the main road, found a quiet spot behind an abandoned shop, and sat on a broken cement slab. For the first time in years, he let the tears come. He cried for his dreams, for his shame, for his father who had died too soon, for the mother whose body was fading from sickness. He cried for being mocked, for being poor, for being helpless. But somewhere in the middle of the tears, a thought began to grow. What if this was not the end? What if her insult was a mirror showing him who he’d become — and who he could still be? The pain turned into fire. A quiet vow formed in his heart: They will never laugh at me like this again. #worldwide #africanfolktales #Discipline #nakupenda
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  • When Jesus is in the boat I can smile at the storm.
    #SpreadTheLove
    #Esther_Ekpezz
    When Jesus is in the boat I can smile at the storm. #SpreadTheLove #Esther_Ekpezz
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  • Curve a smile on someone's face

    #passion
    #trending
    Curve a smile on someone's face 😊 #passion #trending
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  • Good night Nakupenda family,close your eyes while sleeping #Favour #ForTUNate #Nakupenda #Smile
    Good night Nakupenda family,close your eyes while sleeping 😴 #Favour #ForTUNate #Nakupenda #Smile
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  • My girlfriend invited me to her house today, we have been dating for a while now but I have never for ones visited her.

    But of course, she has visited me ones in a while, Today I decided to visit her. When I reached the address she told me. I saw my woman dress in shots, she came to pick me up from the gate where the uber dropped me.

    Is your parents home? I asked her immediately I came down from the uber and we headed to the house.
    Ndolo
    They ain't home yet, but they will come back later. Make your self comfortable. She said immediately we entered the house.

    Such a nice house I said. she smiled at me and went to the kitchen. Minutes later she brought a plate of spaghetti for me. My girl sure knows how to spoil me with food.
    Ndolo
    As a gentleman I started eating the spaghetti, very delicious. My girlfriend had already gone back inside the room to get water for me. But as I was eating the spaghetti, my phone rang, and it was my girlfriend calling.

    Hello Ayo where are you? I have been waiting for you by the gate since. My girlfriend said.

    What do you mean waiting for me? I'm at your house, and you just served me food. Stop this joke ejoor. I said. Which house? She asked.

    House 30P. I said. 30P? I said 30B. she said, then who served me food here now? I asked. Ayo did you say 30P? please start coming out of that house now, nobody has lived in that house for the past 15years, it is believed that house 30P is the house of Ghost. She said over the phone. I was still struggling to eat the spaghetti In my mouth. House of what? I said. I can't hear you babe. My girlfriend said
    Colyfrank
    Just then Every door in the house began locking by itself and I could here the sound of each lock.

    " In this house it either you play our game correctly or you d!e". A deep voice said.

    Just then I knew It was finished; deep cold entered my body, and i found it difficult to swallow the spaghetti in my mouth.
    #Discipline
    My girlfriend invited me to her house today, we have been dating for a while now but I have never for ones visited her. But of course, she has visited me ones in a while, Today I decided to visit her. When I reached the address she told me. I saw my woman dress in shots, she came to pick me up from the gate where the uber dropped me. Is your parents home? I asked her immediately I came down from the uber and we headed to the house. Ndolo They ain't home yet, but they will come back later. Make your self comfortable. She said immediately we entered the house. Such a nice house I said. she smiled at me and went to the kitchen. Minutes later she brought a plate of spaghetti for me. My girl sure knows how to spoil me with food. Ndolo As a gentleman I started eating the spaghetti, very delicious. My girlfriend had already gone back inside the room to get water for me. But as I was eating the spaghetti, my phone rang, and it was my girlfriend calling. Hello Ayo where are you? I have been waiting for you by the gate since. My girlfriend said. What do you mean waiting for me? I'm at your house, and you just served me food. Stop this joke ejoor. I said. Which house? She asked. House 30P. I said. 30P? I said 30B. she said, then who served me food here now? I asked. Ayo did you say 30P? please start coming out of that house now, nobody has lived in that house for the past 15years, it is believed that house 30P is the house of Ghost. She said over the phone. I was still struggling to eat the spaghetti In my mouth. House of what? I said. I can't hear you babe. My girlfriend said Colyfrank Just then Every door in the house began locking by itself and I could here the sound of each lock. " In this house it either you play our game correctly or you d!e". A deep voice said. Just then I knew It was finished; deep cold entered my body, and i found it difficult to swallow the spaghetti in my mouth. #Discipline
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  • Happy 1st birthday, my little one! You've brought so much joy into our lives. May your first year be filled with endless smiles and adventure, and may this next year be even brighter."
    #Happybirthday
    #MAYBOY
    #Discipline
    #nakupenda
    Happy 1st birthday, my little one! You've brought so much joy into our lives. May your first year be filled with endless smiles and adventure, and may this next year be even brighter." #Happybirthday #MAYBOY #Discipline #nakupenda
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  • Nakupenda is not just an app, it’s a movement of love, culture, and connection.
    Let’s be the reason someone smiles today.

    #SpreadTheLove #TeamB
    #PeaceOfMind
    Nakupenda is not just an app, it’s a movement of love, culture, and connection. Let’s be the reason someone smiles today. #SpreadTheLove #TeamB #PeaceOfMind
    Love
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