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Title: Adira and the Heart of the Storm Years had passed since Adira first became the Keeper of the Echoes. The village had grown, but the forests around it had grown even wilder, and the ancient trees whispered more often than ever. Adira, now a young woman, had learned to communicate with the forest, guiding it to balance the fragile boundary between the realms of magic and men. One evening, as dusk fell and the sky pulsed with a thousand hues of gold and lavender, a strange thing happened. The forest fell silent. Not a single leaf stirred, not a breath of wind rustled the branches. The quiet was so profound, it pressed against Adira's chest. A low rumble shook the ground beneath her feet. Before she could move, the sky split with a roar, and a storm unlike any she'd seen descended upon the forest. Dark clouds, swirling like a tempest of shadows, spun violently above the trees. The air crackled with magic, and strange lights flickered within the storm. It was not just weather—it was an omen. Adira ran toward the heart of the disturbance, following the pulse of magic she felt beneath her skin. The storm's fury grew with each step, but she was not afraid. She had faced the unknown before. At the center of the storm stood a figure cloaked in shadow, their form shimmering like a silhouette made of night itself. The ground around them was scorched, the earth warped with unnatural energy. "I've come to claim what is mine," the shadowed figure spoke, their voice like thunder rolling through the sky. Adira stepped forward, her hand instinctively reaching for the vine-and-silver necklace that hung from her neck. The forest hummed in response, a soft, reassuring pulse. "You don't belong here," Adira said, her voice steady. "This is the realm of balance, of peace. You will destroy it." The figure laughed, the sound echoing like a crack of thunder. "I was born of chaos. The forest cannot keep me out forever. You are too late, Keeper." With a flick of the figure’s hand, the storm raged harder, lashing out with winds that could tear trees from their roots. Adira's eyes glowed with determination. “No,” she said. “I am the Keeper of Echoes. And I will protect this place.” The forest answered her call, its ancient power flowing through her veins. Adira raised her arms, and the vines around her swelled, twisting into forms of protection. The ground beneath her feet rumbled as the trees responded, their roots awakening, reaching deep into the earth. The shadowed figure faltered as the earth itself began to push back, the magic of the forest encircling them, constricting. "You are bound by the forest's power, just as I am," Adira said. "But I am not alone." The figure hissed in fury, but the storm began to recede, the winds lessening. Adira pressed forward, not with force, but with the unity of the forest’s heart. Slowly, the figure began to dissipate, its form turning to mist as the magic of the forest sealed the rift they had created. The storm calmed, and the sky cleared, revealing a single star that gleamed brighter than the others—a sign that the balance had been restored. Adira, though exhausted, smiled softly. The forest was safe for now. The echo of the wild magic pulsed beneath her feet, always there, waiting to guide her when needed. #ADIRA #nakupenda #Discipline

When Jesus is in the boat I can smile at the storm. #SpreadTheLove #Esther_Ekpezz

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

#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 #Attendance #Passion

I thank God for Nakupenda. Indeed the future is bright Pregnant with purpose, Puting smile on the faces of those who believe in what the future holds with Nakupenda. #Nakupenda. #Motivation. #Samuelthomasayiya. #thefutureisbright.

Curve a smile on someone's face 😊 #passion #trending

*After checking my heart & pulse,* *The doctor smiled and said:* *Go sit and enjoy with your classmates and old friends,* *They are the cure for all your ailments and worries...* *Stay in touch with your friends...* *Because they are such healers,* *Who can cure you with their sweet and abusive talks..* *They don't make you feel your age,* *These classmates and old friends...* *They never let you get old and are always by your side to walk...* *Children will ask for WILL,* *Relatives will ask for BILL,* *Only your classmates and old friends,* *Under whatever circumstances,* *Will ask you to #JUST CHILL"...* #discipline #nakupenda

#Passion #Softsmile If your path looks difficult, it is because your purpose is bigger than you thought. Stay focused, persevere, be upright and follow your course. GOOD MORNING *(PLEASE STAY SAFE)*

#Discipline #nakupenda SHE WAS 8 YEARS OLD WHEN THEY FORCED HER TO MARRY AN 80-YEAR-OLD MAN AND THIS HAPPENED She was only eight. She still played with dolls, still chased butterflies barefoot in the dusty yard, still slept with her head on her mother’s lap. Her name was Amina, and all she ever wanted was to go to school, eat sweets, and laugh with her younger brother. But one morning, her mother pulled her aside, eyes red, voice trembling. "You are to be married next week." Amina blinked. Married? She thought it meant putting on a pretty dress and playing bride, the way she did with her friends. She didn’t understand why her mother cried harder when she smiled and asked if there would be cake. Her father didn’t explain. He only said, “This will save us all.” The man—Alhaji Umar—was 80 years old, rich, with hands that shook and breath that smelled of bitterness. He had four wives already. The youngest was 40. Now he wanted a fifth, and he wanted Amina. Because her father owed him. Because her father was drowning in debt. Because no one in the village would dare refuse Alhaji Umar. The night before the wedding, Amina asked her mother if she’d be allowed to go back to school afterward. Her mother didn’t answer. She just held her tighter. And when the drums began the next morning, when the guests gathered to dance and eat and celebrate what they thought was a blessing, Amina sat in the middle of the room in a white dress too big for her tiny frame, not knowing she was being led into a nightmare. The marriage was celebrated with loud music. But the silence in Amina’s heart was louder. She didn’t cry during the ceremony. She didn’t cry when she was taken to his house. But she cried when he locked the room that night. She cried when he touched her tiny hand and called her his "new beginning." He didn’t hurt her—not yet. But his eyes did. They looked at her like she wasn’t a child. Like she was property. Days turned into weeks. She didn’t go to school again. She cleaned the house. She sat beside his bed. She listened when he ranted about how none of his sons respected him. She became a shadow in a palace she never asked for. And the worst part? No one came for her. Not her father. Not her mother. They had vanished into the silence of guilt. But one night, when the wind howled and the rain slapped the windows, Amina heard someone at the door. A stranger. Wet, tired, breathing heavily. He said he was Alhaji Umar’s grandson. A university student back from abroad. “Who are you?” he asked, staring at her with confusion. “Why are you wearing a wedding necklace?” “I’m his wife,” she whispered. The boy’s face went pale. That night changed everything. TO BE CONTINUED...

"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

*A Nigerian mother was lucky enough to see her 4 daughters get married the same year, so after each wedding she told them* *"Dont forget to text me your first night experience and text it in code"* *....... after a week, the 1st daughter texted;* *"UNION BANK"* *The mother looked at the UNION Bank motto and it read "Big, Strong and Reliable" She smiled and waited for the other daughter.* *The second daughter text read;* *"NESCAFE"* *The mother looked at a Nescafe tin of milk and it read, "Fantastic until the last drop!"* *The 3rd daughter text read,* *"BENSON & HEDGES"* *The mother went to her husband's pack of Benson & Hedges cigarettes and read the company motto, it read;* *"Extra long, king size* " *she was very impressed and said "not bad for their ages".* *After the following week, the 4th daughter texted* *ARIK AIR LAGOS TO ABUJA* ", *The mother then called Arik Airways help desk to enquire about their Lagos-Abuja flight and they replied* *"It's 4 times daily, 7days a week, and the flight duration is 45mins".* *The mother fell down and shouted* . *"igweeeeeeeee!!! This one will kill my daughter* ooooooooo!......... 😆 Do have a great week. #Nakuoenda #Team c #knowledge