What's your take on this? African parents go humble you 😂😂 #Grateful

Wizkid on this week's Billboard Chart. • Morayo has now spent 19 weeks on the WBBA✅️ • Made in Lagos has now spent 149 weeks on the WBBA✅️ MIL remains the longest Charting African Album in history.Wiz is the only African artist having 2 albums currently on the chart✅️ #Favour #tessy_rich

PUNCH Newspaper *The unseen crisis facing Nigerian men (moment Otunba Kunle Akinyele collapsed)* *Message not just for Men alone, but for everyone* 5th May 2025. Ganiyu Olowu *When Otunba Kunle Akinyele, a respected hotelier in Lagos, slumped and died at his wife’s 60th birthday thanksgiving, the nation gasped in disbelief. One moment, he was celebrating life and love; the next, he lay lifeless at the altar of joy*. The video is haunting — *a man gesturing, gasping, reaching for help in a sacred space, surrounded by those he loved but alone in his final battle.* This was not just a death. It was a metaphor of silent suffering, buried exhaustion, and what men have come to normalise in the name of strength. Akinyele’s case is not isolated. It is one of many chilling examples of how Nigerian men, particularly in their mid- to late years, are collapsing under the weight of responsibilities, unspoken pain, and undiagnosed illnesses. According to the World Health Organisation, men in sub-Saharan Africa, including Nigeria, are 2.4 times more likely to die prematurely from preventable causes than women. This alarming disparity is fuelled by cultural and behavioural factors: men are less likely to seek medical help, more likely to suppress emotional turmoil, and often glorify suffering in silence. In Nigeria, cardiovascular diseases, hypertension, and untreated mental health conditions are among the leading causes of sudden deaths in men. So This Happened (215) Reviews Death Of Lagos... In 2019, Pastor Taiwo Odukoya—admired for his strength and spiritual leadership—passed away quietly after years of enduring deep emotional losses and reportedly ongoing health complications. His resilience was legendary, but it masked what many now see as untreated grief, intense stress, and likely silent medical conditions. Then came the sudden death of veteran broadcaster Ayo Oduleye, better known as MC Loyo, who slumped while compering an event in Ibadan. His charm and humour lit up stages, but in the blink of an eye, the microphone fell silent. Just like that. Similarly, the passing of Mr Ibu (John Okafor) in early 2024, after months of battling illness, reminded the country of how many male entertainers struggle financially and physically behind the scenes, putting on a show while their bodies deteriorate. Masculinity, when warped, can become a silent weapon—not just against others, but against oneself. *ENDEAVOUR TO TAKE GOOD REST PLEASE* Globally, the story remains the same. In 2014, beloved comedian Robin Williams died by suicide, a victim of masked depression. And in 2022, cricket legend Shane Warne died suddenly of a heart attack, a casualty of silent coronary disease and an overstretched lifestyle. Yet while statistics shock and headlines haunt, the everyday grind of the average Nigerian man tells an even sadder tale. Take Lagos, Nigeria’s commercial capital—the city that never sleeps, and where many men now barely do. A significant number of working-class men reside on the mainland or in Ogun border towns like Mowe, Ikorodu, Sango Ota, or Ibafo but must commute to the Island for work—a journey that often begins by 4:00 a.m. and ends by 9:00 p.m. on return. This is no exaggeration. Studies from the Lagos Metropolitan Area Transport Authority reveal that Lagosians spend an average of four to six hours daily in traffic—with many men doing these five to six times a week. That is over 1,400 hours a year lost in gridlock—time stolen from rest, from family, from reflection. For these men, the day begins before the rooster crows. They rush into overcrowded buses, endure fumes of frustration, only to return home when their children are already asleep. There is no room for hobbies, hardly any time for checkups, no outlet for pain. Sleep is a luxury. Rest is a myth. And joy is rationed, like fuel in a scarcity season. This modern man is constantly running on empty—physically present but emotionally absent, financially committed but spiritually depleted. And society applauds his hustle, without asking at what cost. The idiom says, “Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” but what if the crown is invisible, made not of gold but of expectations, bills, unspoken grief, and sacrificial silence? Men are praised for providing, for showing up, for being “rocks”. But even rocks erode—silently, slowly, and then all at once. The greatest tragedy is not that they die, but that they are dying unseen. Consider the tragic case of a 42 year old engineer in Port Harcourt who collapsed at his workstation after weeks of working overtime to meet project deadlines. His colleagues described him as “dedicated to a fault”, but his sudden death revealed the dangers of ignoring signs of burnout and hypertension. Another heartbreaking example is the story of a young entrepreneur in Enugu who passed away in his sleep after complaining of chest pains for weeks. Despite his family’s pleas, he refused to visit a doctor, citing his busy schedule and financial obligations. His autopsy later revealed undiagnosed cardiovascular disease—a silent killer that could have been managed with timely intervention. One unforgettable story is that of Samuel Okwaraji, the gifted footballer and patriot who gave everything to his country on the football pitch. In 1989, during a World Cup qualifier against Angola in Lagos, Okwaraji collapsed and tragically died of congestive heart failure at just 25 years old. His life, so full of promises, was cut short under the intense demands of national expectation. The harsh conditions of the game that day, combined with the immense physical and psychological pressures he faced, ultimately proved too much. These stories compel us to ask: What are we doing to ourselves in the name of strength? Why does the world celebrate silent suffering but frown upon seeking help? Dr Salawu Abiola, a psychiatrist at the Federal Neuro Psychiatric Hospital in Yaba, offers critical advice for men navigating these pressures. He emphasises the importance of prioritising rest, adequate sleep, and regular health checkups. “If you work and die today, someone will replace you at the workplace, but no one replaces you in the family,” he warns. Abiola advocates setting realistic goals, managing time effectively, and creating moments of joy and relaxation amid life’s challenges. He also highlights the need for men to engage in positive activities, such as exercise, hobbies, and socialising with supportive people, to release built-up tension and foster mental well-being. Check your vitals before you check your wallet. Monthly profit means nothing if your heart gives out unexpectedly. Your strength is not in how much you carry but in how well you manage your load. Therapy is not weakness. It is a repair. Just like a car needs servicing, your mind and soul need realignment. Build relationships where you are more than a provider—where you are allowed to cry, collapse, confess. A good name is better than riches, but good health is the foundation of both. As Chinua Achebe once said, “When the drumbeat changes, the dance must also change.” The drumbeat of life today is faster, louder, and less forgiving. Men must adjust their rhythm. Health is the new wealth. Silence is no longer golden; it is dangerous. *Ganiyu Olowu, a public affairs analyst, writes from Lagos*. punchng.com ©️ 1971- 2025 Punch Nigeria Limited *MAY WE ALL LIVE LONG IN JESUS NAME* 🙏 CULLED #olufaderomi #grace

Hello everyone, Instead of saying Messenger. We would love to name it in an African language. Suggest a name that means. "Message me" And from which language?

Good morning 🌄 Africa. Nakupenda is here. Nke a bu nke anyi. @Uchmam #grace

Have seen so many write-ups/post about "NAKUPENDA" So in one word tell me how you view NAKUPENDA 🎤? ME: African YOU: how about you 🎤 #de_listener #banjodx #grace

THE IGBO ENTREPRENEURSHIP SYSTEM - The Strategy That Built Obi Cubana Have you ever wondered … How did the Igbo people rise from losing everything after the war, to becoming one of the most entrepreneurial tribes in Africa? Let me tell you a story. So After the Nigerian civil war, the Igbos were left with nothing. According to history, people who had thousands in their accounts were only given £20. Businesses destroyed. Hope shattered. That’s how the new system treated them; broke, broken, and abandoned. They didn’t sit down and complain. They started again. From scratch. From the ground up. That's the spirit of the Igbo Chi. But they didn’t do it alone. They used a system, one powerful principle: “Never Leave Your Brother.” If you’re selling biscuits and need to buy Lipton, you go to your brother’s shop. Even if his price is a bit higher ; you still buy from him. That’s how Igbos built their own economy from inside. They called it “Onye Aghala Nwanne Ya ” - "Don’t leave your brother behind." This was more than business. It was survival. It was loyalty. It was strategy. They built communities. They trained one another through apprenticeship (Igba Boi). They lifted each other from trenches to triumph. They created chains of value - and chains of trust. And no one represents this model today better than Obi Cubana He started small - one nightclub in Abuja. But he didn’t rise alone. He surrounded himself with people he empowered , and they, in turn, empowered him. Today, many of his “boys” are millionaires, and they’re all still connected. That’s what made his mum’s burial a historic moment it wasn’t about showing off, it was about community wealth. Now His 50th birthday was a blast. From Business Men to superstars to sports players they all gathered to pay homage . You might wondering what a popular pastor was doing at the event ? He is Igbo right ? He came to pay homage to his brother who built from scratch. That’s the Igbo system. Build. Empower. Don’t leave your brother. That's why Anywhere you see an Igbo person there must be a community. That's how the Igbos grow ❤️ That's how they were able to bounce back and become the most proporous ethnic group in Africa As Obi Cubana celebrates his 50th birthday, I see more than a successful man. I see a case study of Igbo resilience, strategy, and communal growth. If you're building something today, I want you to ask yourself: Are you lifting others as you rise? Are you creating value or just chasing money? Are you building a system, or are you walking alone? Because wealth built alone is fragile. But wealth built in brotherhood is eternal. Obi Cubana didn’t just make money. He made men. He made systems. He made history. And that, my friend, is the secret of Igbo entrepreneurship. Start now to build men. #Utom58 #De_NextVerYou

Discipline saved China Indiscipline drowned Europe Arrogance is killing America,I hope Ignorance will not drown Africa #attendance #Fortuneandre #passion

Until we begin to open our minds positively and start thinking of our neighbors in a positive light, Africa would not make it far.

#Grateful, it can always get better with Nakupenda we African's can make a very big difference in the social media space. Let's make it happen. #Grateful#

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