• She was just a cleaner trying to get to work. One splash of mud changed all her life! The rich woman behind the wheel had no idea – someone powerful was watching...
    The city woke in silence, cloaked in early mist and leftover rain. Streetlights blinked against the morning haze, and the air still carried the chill of night. Along Crownville Avenue, a young woman moved with quiet purpose. She wasn’t in a rush, but her pace was steady—like someone used to walking the long road.
    Her uniform was clean, her shoes worn from use. A small bag hung from her shoulder, packed with her breakfast and cleaning gloves. No makeup, no umbrella, no shield from what life might bring that day.
    At the next corner, a sleek white SUV waited for the light. Its engine hummed with soft power. Inside sat a well-dressed woman in large sunglasses, sipping something green from a straw and scrolling her phone.
    And then—
    A splash.
    A sharp burst of water from a puddle.
    And the young woman stopped, soaked from head to toe.
    There was no time to react.
    The SUV rolled past, slowing just enough for a voice to call out from the window—cheerful, distant, maybe even amused. Then it sped off, disappearing into the traffic like nothing had happened.
    She stood still for a moment. No screams. No anger. She just adjusted her bag, blinked a few times, and kept walking.
    But someone else saw.
    From across the street, a dark sedan sat quietly. Behind its tinted windows, a man watched the entire moment unfold. His eyes followed the woman, then shifted to the SUV fading into the distance.
    He didn’t smile.
    He didn’t speak.
    But his fingers tapped the steering wheel once—then again.
    He picked up his phone.
    “Can you find out who she is?” he asked, voice calm but firm. “The girl who just got splashed.”
    A short pause.
    “Yes, sir,” came the reply.
    The line clicked off.
    The young woman never looked back. She didn’t know anyone had noticed. She didn’t know her morning had been quietly recorded in someone else’s mind—and that her quiet resilience had just shifted something unexpected.
    Because sometimes, the smallest moments leave the biggest impressions.
    And not all acts of kindness are random.
    Sometimes, someone sees more than we think.
    And sometimes, it all begins with a splash.....
    #DISCIPLINE
    #NAKUPENDA
    She was just a cleaner trying to get to work. One splash of mud changed all her life! The rich woman behind the wheel had no idea – someone powerful was watching...😲😲😲 The city woke in silence, cloaked in early mist and leftover rain. Streetlights blinked against the morning haze, and the air still carried the chill of night. Along Crownville Avenue, a young woman moved with quiet purpose. She wasn’t in a rush, but her pace was steady—like someone used to walking the long road. Her uniform was clean, her shoes worn from use. A small bag hung from her shoulder, packed with her breakfast and cleaning gloves. No makeup, no umbrella, no shield from what life might bring that day. At the next corner, a sleek white SUV waited for the light. Its engine hummed with soft power. Inside sat a well-dressed woman in large sunglasses, sipping something green from a straw and scrolling her phone. And then— A splash. A sharp burst of water from a puddle. And the young woman stopped, soaked from head to toe. There was no time to react. The SUV rolled past, slowing just enough for a voice to call out from the window—cheerful, distant, maybe even amused. Then it sped off, disappearing into the traffic like nothing had happened. She stood still for a moment. No screams. No anger. She just adjusted her bag, blinked a few times, and kept walking. But someone else saw. From across the street, a dark sedan sat quietly. Behind its tinted windows, a man watched the entire moment unfold. His eyes followed the woman, then shifted to the SUV fading into the distance. He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak. But his fingers tapped the steering wheel once—then again. He picked up his phone. “Can you find out who she is?” he asked, voice calm but firm. “The girl who just got splashed.” A short pause. “Yes, sir,” came the reply. The line clicked off. The young woman never looked back. She didn’t know anyone had noticed. She didn’t know her morning had been quietly recorded in someone else’s mind—and that her quiet resilience had just shifted something unexpected. Because sometimes, the smallest moments leave the biggest impressions. And not all acts of kindness are random. Sometimes, someone sees more than we think. And sometimes, it all begins with a splash..... #DISCIPLINE #NAKUPENDA
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  • #SpreadTheLove #waskydone

    Indeed let's just spread the love
    #SpreadTheLove #waskydone Indeed let's just spread the love
    Make love no dey only for Valentine oo!,
    Every day na better day to show person say you care.
    Try am today.

    #SpreadTheLove
    #PeaceOfMind
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  • Together for Health
    22% $22302.9 Raised of $100000
    Support Good Health for All

    I’m starting this fundraiser to help people who can’t afford good healthcare. Some are sick and need money for hospital bills, medicine, or emergency treatment but they don’t have the means.

    Sadly, some people lose their lives just because help didn’t come on time or they couldn’t pay. With your support, we can:

    - Help pay medical bills for those who urgently need it
    - Buy important drugs for those who can’t afford them
    - Support families in getting proper medical care
    - Organize small health programs to teach people and do checkups

    No amount is too small, what you give can change or even save a life. Let’s show love not just in words, but with action.

    Please join me. Let’s help people get the care they deserve.

    #TogetherForHealth #NakupendaCares #SpreadTheLove
    #PeaceOfMind
    Support Good Health for All I’m starting this fundraiser to help people who can’t afford good healthcare. Some are sick and need money for hospital bills, medicine, or emergency treatment but they don’t have the means. Sadly, some people lose their lives just because help didn’t come on time or they couldn’t pay. With your support, we can: - Help pay medical bills for those who urgently need it - Buy important drugs for those who can’t afford them - Support families in getting proper medical care - Organize small health programs to teach people and do checkups No amount is too small, what you give can change or even save a life. Let’s show love not just in words, but with action. Please join me. Let’s help people get the care they deserve. #TogetherForHealth #NakupendaCares #SpreadTheLove #PeaceOfMind
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  • We often hear the phrase "everyone knows that," but what does it really mean? Common knowledge refers to facts and ideas that are widely accepted and understood by most people, without needing special research or explanation.

    Think of it as the kind of information you wouldn’t need to Google or footnote in an essay. For instance, we all know the Earth orbits the Sun, that water boils at 100°C, and that Shakespeare was a playwright. These are pieces of knowledge we encounter early and often, making them part of our collective understanding.

    But here's the catch: what’s “common” to one group may not be to another. Cultural, regional, and educational differences mean that what one person assumes as obvious might be brand new to someone else.

    That’s why it’s always worth thinking twice before assuming something is known to everyone. Whether you’re writing, teaching, or just having a conversation, knowing the boundaries of common knowledge can help you communicate more clearly—and more kindly.

    So next time you find yourself saying, “That’s just common sense,” ask: is it really
    #knowledge
    We often hear the phrase "everyone knows that," but what does it really mean? Common knowledge refers to facts and ideas that are widely accepted and understood by most people, without needing special research or explanation. Think of it as the kind of information you wouldn’t need to Google or footnote in an essay. For instance, we all know the Earth orbits the Sun, that water boils at 100°C, and that Shakespeare was a playwright. These are pieces of knowledge we encounter early and often, making them part of our collective understanding. But here's the catch: what’s “common” to one group may not be to another. Cultural, regional, and educational differences mean that what one person assumes as obvious might be brand new to someone else. That’s why it’s always worth thinking twice before assuming something is known to everyone. Whether you’re writing, teaching, or just having a conversation, knowing the boundaries of common knowledge can help you communicate more clearly—and more kindly. So next time you find yourself saying, “That’s just common sense,” ask: is it really #knowledge
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  • FROM ANOTHER PLATFORM

    By Obi Nwakanma

    And I hear you, bro. But think about it: from 1970- 1979, the generation of the Igbo who had fought and funded the war, were not talking of marginalization. They took on the task of restoration. I remember the story the late Mbazulike Amaechi told me when I once visited him in Ukpor. At the end of the war, the Igbo business elite who had been in PH, and whose property had been forcibly acquired by the new government in Rivers state went to Asika to intervene. Asika sat with them and urged them to seek the intervention of the courts and make this a seminal case on the defense of Igbo property rights in Nigeria. He did not want to seem to put undue pressure in a very sensitive time on the government of Rivers state. The Igbo were being harassed and stopped from work and resuming their life in PH. Asika encouraged them to seek the legal benefits of Awolowo who was the most powerful politician in government at the time. These Igbo businessmen met Awo, in Lagos, and after he heard them, Awo demanded that they go and pay 1 million pounds into his Chambers account, before he would could take on their plea. The Igbo business men asked Awo where he thought they could get one million pounds, having just come out of a devastating war. He said it was their business and dismissed them. The men later met in ZC Obi’s home, and after rounds and rounds of discussions, they agreed at ZC Obi’s urging, that they would no longer pursue the matter. ZC Obi said, “ let us ge back to work. Let us send our young men back to work. We shall build Aba until it gets into Port Harcourt, and no one will know the difference.” And that was precisely what they set out to do, and were about accomplishing that feat up till 1987. By 1979, the Igbo were powerful enough to ge a serious factor in Nigerian politics. Between 1979-83, the Igbo were not talking about marginalization. They were engaged in restoration . Mbakwe had asked Ihechukwu Madubuike as minister for education, to place as priority the establishment of another federal university in Igbo land. Thus FUTO in 1980. Between he and Jim Nwobodo, they launched an industrial policy that quickly turned the East once more into an active economic belt. They did not wait for the federal government. Imo state University and Anambra state university of Technology were the first state universities to be established under the state laws. I was reading the Imo State University Act that established the charter of the old Imo state university the other day, and I am still utterly impressed by the quality and precision of thought that went into organizing that university under the inimitable MJC Echeruo, one of Igbo lands sharpest minds of the 20th century. The same goes for ASUTHEC. Nwobodo went specifically to Harvard to make Prof Kenneth **** to return to Enugu and establish ASUTHEC. Now, compare that Igbo, to this generation of the Akalogoli. Mbakwe took Shagari specifically to Ndiegoro, in Aba, wept publicly with dramatic impact , and forced Shagari to promise to establish the ecological fund to deal with places like Ndiegoro in Igbo land. He compelled Shagari to understand that Gas and Petroleum were abundant natural resources from Imo state, and that Imo deserved and must be given new shares/ consideration , if the federal did not want Imo to sue, and even begin to raise questions about the federal government’s s seizure of Eastern Nigerias oil and gas investments, like the PH refinery for which no compensation has even to this day, been paid. Mbakwe pushed the oil issue and said to Shagari that the proposed Petrochemical Plant must be located in Imo, otherwise he would begin to build the Imo Petrochemical Industries himself . The grounds had been cleared by October 1983, and work started at the Imo Petrochemical Plant at Izombe by the time the military struck on Dec. 31, 1983. It was Buhari who later relocated that plant to Eleme. Mbakwe began the first Independent Power company with the Amaraku power station under Alex Emeziem at the Ministry of Utilities. The father of my high school buddy at the Government College Umuahia was the project manager who designed and installed the power station at Amaraku and had begun work at the Izombe Gas power station; all with engineers and technicians from the Imo state ministries of work and public utilities. They did not go to China to sign a contract. They just went to South Korea to procure the parts they designed and which they installed themselves! By 1981/2 most towns in Imo state had electricity under the Imo state Rural Electrification project. Same with the Five Zonal water project under the Mbakwe program. The project manager was Engineer Ebiringa. They did not go to China or America or wait for the federal government. 85% of the Imo Water project had been completed by the time the soldiers struck. There are still giant iron pipes buried underground in almost all the towns in the old Imo state under that project which was designed to give Imo the first constant, clean water of any state of Nigeria. Only a phase of the Owerri water project was completed by the time Mbakwe was kicked out of office, but even so, Owerri had the cleanest, most regular water of any city in Nigeria. Imo organized her public schools. Imo organized a first class public health system. My own father was commissioned under the Health Management board as the government’s Chief Health Statician, to conduct the first broad epidemiological survey of Imo state in 1982. I saw him at work. They were serious and professional men, who took their duties very seriously because they were highly trained. The Imo state civil service was possibly the finest civil service in West Africa; finer than the federal service, because they had a
    highly selected and well trained pool of civil servants who delivered value to the people. They were not talking about marginalization. You may say what you like today about Jim Nwobodo, but he started the independent satellite newspaper In Enugu, which balanced the story coming out of Lagos. No one was talking about marginalization until Chuba Okadigbo, rightly used that word to decribe the way the federal military government of Nigeria was treating the Igbo, in terms of access to real power. There were not enough Igbo officers represented in the organograms of the military governments, and yes, that word was apt, in that ****** . But we have taken it too far, and turned it into an excuse for our intellectual and political indolence. The Igbo have waited for their comeuppance on Nigeria, but **** ain’t happening. Nigeria is moving on without us, for better or worse. We must now recalibrate and engage. Let us use the final gas in our tanks, all of us now, between 55-75 years, to complete the work of restoration which the last generation began but which we have abandoned because we dropped the ball. We may weep all we want and complain that Nigeria is unfair, but the universe is indifferent. I dare say, Nigeria actually has no capacity to marginalize the Igbo. We better stop marginalizing ourselves or risk our children and their children inheriting the slave’s mentality!! That’s the danger we court with this story of Igbo marginality, which is actually self imposed, and self indulgent!

    I pray we rise again!!!!
    Happy New Month to us all!!!
    #Discipline
    FROM ANOTHER PLATFORM By Obi Nwakanma And I hear you, bro. But think about it: from 1970- 1979, the generation of the Igbo who had fought and funded the war, were not talking of marginalization. They took on the task of restoration. I remember the story the late Mbazulike Amaechi told me when I once visited him in Ukpor. At the end of the war, the Igbo business elite who had been in PH, and whose property had been forcibly acquired by the new government in Rivers state went to Asika to intervene. Asika sat with them and urged them to seek the intervention of the courts and make this a seminal case on the defense of Igbo property rights in Nigeria. He did not want to seem to put undue pressure in a very sensitive time on the government of Rivers state. The Igbo were being harassed and stopped from work and resuming their life in PH. Asika encouraged them to seek the legal benefits of Awolowo who was the most powerful politician in government at the time. These Igbo businessmen met Awo, in Lagos, and after he heard them, Awo demanded that they go and pay 1 million pounds into his Chambers account, before he would could take on their plea. The Igbo business men asked Awo where he thought they could get one million pounds, having just come out of a devastating war. He said it was their business and dismissed them. The men later met in ZC Obi’s home, and after rounds and rounds of discussions, they agreed at ZC Obi’s urging, that they would no longer pursue the matter. ZC Obi said, “ let us ge back to work. Let us send our young men back to work. We shall build Aba until it gets into Port Harcourt, and no one will know the difference.” And that was precisely what they set out to do, and were about accomplishing that feat up till 1987. By 1979, the Igbo were powerful enough to ge a serious factor in Nigerian politics. Between 1979-83, the Igbo were not talking about marginalization. They were engaged in restoration . Mbakwe had asked Ihechukwu Madubuike as minister for education, to place as priority the establishment of another federal university in Igbo land. Thus FUTO in 1980. Between he and Jim Nwobodo, they launched an industrial policy that quickly turned the East once more into an active economic belt. They did not wait for the federal government. Imo state University and Anambra state university of Technology were the first state universities to be established under the state laws. I was reading the Imo State University Act that established the charter of the old Imo state university the other day, and I am still utterly impressed by the quality and precision of thought that went into organizing that university under the inimitable MJC Echeruo, one of Igbo lands sharpest minds of the 20th century. The same goes for ASUTHEC. Nwobodo went specifically to Harvard to make Prof Kenneth Dike to return to Enugu and establish ASUTHEC. Now, compare that Igbo, to this generation of the Akalogoli. Mbakwe took Shagari specifically to Ndiegoro, in Aba, wept publicly with dramatic impact , and forced Shagari to promise to establish the ecological fund to deal with places like Ndiegoro in Igbo land. He compelled Shagari to understand that Gas and Petroleum were abundant natural resources from Imo state, and that Imo deserved and must be given new shares/ consideration , if the federal did not want Imo to sue, and even begin to raise questions about the federal government’s s seizure of Eastern Nigerias oil and gas investments, like the PH refinery for which no compensation has even to this day, been paid. Mbakwe pushed the oil issue and said to Shagari that the proposed Petrochemical Plant must be located in Imo, otherwise he would begin to build the Imo Petrochemical Industries himself . The grounds had been cleared by October 1983, and work started at the Imo Petrochemical Plant at Izombe by the time the military struck on Dec. 31, 1983. It was Buhari who later relocated that plant to Eleme. Mbakwe began the first Independent Power company with the Amaraku power station under Alex Emeziem at the Ministry of Utilities. The father of my high school buddy at the Government College Umuahia was the project manager who designed and installed the power station at Amaraku and had begun work at the Izombe Gas power station; all with engineers and technicians from the Imo state ministries of work and public utilities. They did not go to China to sign a contract. They just went to South Korea to procure the parts they designed and which they installed themselves! By 1981/2 most towns in Imo state had electricity under the Imo state Rural Electrification project. Same with the Five Zonal water project under the Mbakwe program. The project manager was Engineer Ebiringa. They did not go to China or America or wait for the federal government. 85% of the Imo Water project had been completed by the time the soldiers struck. There are still giant iron pipes buried underground in almost all the towns in the old Imo state under that project which was designed to give Imo the first constant, clean water of any state of Nigeria. Only a phase of the Owerri water project was completed by the time Mbakwe was kicked out of office, but even so, Owerri had the cleanest, most regular water of any city in Nigeria. Imo organized her public schools. Imo organized a first class public health system. My own father was commissioned under the Health Management board as the government’s Chief Health Statician, to conduct the first broad epidemiological survey of Imo state in 1982. I saw him at work. They were serious and professional men, who took their duties very seriously because they were highly trained. The Imo state civil service was possibly the finest civil service in West Africa; finer than the federal service, because they had a highly selected and well trained pool of civil servants who delivered value to the people. They were not talking about marginalization. You may say what you like today about Jim Nwobodo, but he started the independent satellite newspaper In Enugu, which balanced the story coming out of Lagos. No one was talking about marginalization until Chuba Okadigbo, rightly used that word to decribe the way the federal military government of Nigeria was treating the Igbo, in terms of access to real power. There were not enough Igbo officers represented in the organograms of the military governments, and yes, that word was apt, in that period . But we have taken it too far, and turned it into an excuse for our intellectual and political indolence. The Igbo have waited for their comeuppance on Nigeria, but shit ain’t happening. Nigeria is moving on without us, for better or worse. We must now recalibrate and engage. Let us use the final gas in our tanks, all of us now, between 55-75 years, to complete the work of restoration which the last generation began but which we have abandoned because we dropped the ball. We may weep all we want and complain that Nigeria is unfair, but the universe is indifferent. I dare say, Nigeria actually has no capacity to marginalize the Igbo. We better stop marginalizing ourselves or risk our children and their children inheriting the slave’s mentality!! That’s the danger we court with this story of Igbo marginality, which is actually self imposed, and self indulgent! I pray we rise again!!!! Happy New Month to us all!!! #Discipline
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  • I created this post using Nakupenda app. Guys the app is working perfectly fine, if you need to app just drop "I need it" in the comments section
    I created this post using Nakupenda app. Guys the app is working perfectly fine, if you need to app just drop "I need it" in the comments section
    "It was the most difficult time" Chizzy Alichi announces she's welcomed son and discloses medical struggles.

    #PeaceOfMind
    #highlights
    Love
    Like
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    2 Commentarios 0 Acciones 284 Views 0 Vista previa
  • Life is more than just a song—it’s a celebration of the bond we’ve built together.

    Stay tuned and let’s make history in Nakupenda
    Life is more than just a song—it’s a celebration of the bond we’ve built together. Stay tuned and let’s make history in Nakupenda 💪 💪 💪
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    3
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  • Tired.com,......
    It's been a very busy weekend.....
    But it was a good one because everyone is happy with their delivery and just pouring in thanks
    Tired.com,...... It's been a very busy weekend..... But it was a good one because everyone is happy with their delivery and just pouring in thanks 🙏
    Like
    Love
    8
    2 Commentarios 0 Acciones 282 Views 0 Vista previa
  • I want to share something painful from my past, something that affected my life forever. So, I got married in the year 2000, and not long after, I gave birth to my son, Raymond. From the moment he was born, our lives became full of hospital visits, sleepless nights, and endless medical expenses.

    The sickness didn’t just affect my son, it affected my marriage too. My husband and I were always stressed. We argued constantly. We blamed each other for everything. Love slowly disappeared from our home. We went from lovers to strangers who only talked about hospital bills.

    In 2006, the marriage couldn’t survive anymore. We went our separate ways, and I was left to raise Raymond alone. It was hard, so hard that I had to leave my acting career behind. I just couldn’t focus. I was broken. Then came the biggest blow of all, Raymond passed away at the age of 17. That pain is something I carry with me every day.

    Please, know this before you fall in love, know your genotype. Love is truly a beautiful thing, but it is not strong enough to carry the weight of this sickness called sickle cell. Know your genotype before love blinds you. I lost everything because I didn’t.

    - Eucharia Anunobi
    I want to share something painful from my past, something that affected my life forever. So, I got married in the year 2000, and not long after, I gave birth to my son, Raymond. From the moment he was born, our lives became full of hospital visits, sleepless nights, and endless medical expenses. The sickness didn’t just affect my son, it affected my marriage too. My husband and I were always stressed. We argued constantly. We blamed each other for everything. Love slowly disappeared from our home. We went from lovers to strangers who only talked about hospital bills. In 2006, the marriage couldn’t survive anymore. We went our separate ways, and I was left to raise Raymond alone. It was hard, so hard that I had to leave my acting career behind. I just couldn’t focus. I was broken. Then came the biggest blow of all, Raymond passed away at the age of 17. That pain is something I carry with me every day. Please, know this before you fall in love, know your genotype. Love is truly a beautiful thing, but it is not strong enough to carry the weight of this sickness called sickle cell. Know your genotype before love blinds you. I lost everything because I didn’t. - Eucharia Anunobi
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  • #Discipline
    THE SECRET OF A SLAY QUEEN WHO ONLY SLEEPS WITH MAD MEN

    Her name was Maliya—fierce, bold, unapologetically beautiful. On the outside, she was every man’s fantasy and every woman’s envy. Slay queen by title, heartbreaker by reputation. But what nobody knew was that behind her polished nails, heavy makeup, and thousand-dollar shoes was a twisted obsession—one that could ruin her life forever. Maliya didn’t sleep with rich politicians, or musicians, or sugar daddies. No. Her secret desire was far darker. She only felt true lust for men society called “mad.” The street wanderers. The mentally unstable. The forgotten souls. The kind who talked to the air, laughed at nothing, and roamed in tattered rags. She believed madness held a kind of freedom no rich man could ever give her.

    At night, when her friends were clubbing or posting half-naked pictures online, Maliya would sneak out in disguise. She wore an oversized hoodie, no makeup, just a scarf. She’d go behind the abandoned rail tracks where she knew one of them always slept. His name was Dogo. People said he had once been a brilliant university professor before something snapped in his head. Now he danced naked in the streets and barked like a dog. But to Maliya, Dogo was beautiful. She brought him food, bathed him, whispered to him, and made love to him like he was a king. And the terrifying part? He remembered her name. Every single time. “Maliya,” he would say, looking into her soul with eyes that once knew more than the world allowed. “They’ll never understand you, but I do.”

    She thought no one knew. Until one day, her closest friend, Anita, followed her. Anita had always suspected something strange about Maliya’s behavior. So when she saw Maliya sneaking behind the slums, she trailed her—and what she found left her speechless. Maliya on her knees, feeding a mad man with such devotion it almost looked holy. Anita tried to confront her. “Are you sick in the head? What if someone finds out? Your brand, your endorsements, your family—everything will be gone!” Maliya didn’t flinch. “I’m already gone, Anita. I’ve been gone since I was twelve and I watched my stepfather beat my mother to death and everyone called him a pastor. Madness feels safer than sanity to me.”

    Anita backed off. She didn’t understand, but she knew better than to question a pain she couldn’t imagine. But secrets don’t stay buried. A vlogger spotted Maliya a few days later, in her disguise, embracing another mad man near the river. The video went viral within hours. “Famous Slay Queen Seen Kissing Lunatic,” the headlines read. Her followers dropped. Brands cut ties. Her family disowned her. But strangely, she didn’t cry. She laughed. Laughed louder than ever before. Because now—finally—she didn’t have to hide. She took Dogo and two other mad men, moved into a remote area outside the city, and built a shelter for the mentally ill. She named it “The Free Mind.”

    But what she didn’t know was that one of the men she loved—one of the supposed “mad” men—wasn’t mad at all. He was a billionaire’s son hiding from a murderous conspiracy. And everything was about to change.

    To be continued....
    Written by Real Life Stories

    Follow Bleeding pen for more
    #Discipline THE SECRET OF A SLAY QUEEN WHO ONLY SLEEPS WITH MAD MEN Her name was Maliya—fierce, bold, unapologetically beautiful. On the outside, she was every man’s fantasy and every woman’s envy. Slay queen by title, heartbreaker by reputation. But what nobody knew was that behind her polished nails, heavy makeup, and thousand-dollar shoes was a twisted obsession—one that could ruin her life forever. Maliya didn’t sleep with rich politicians, or musicians, or sugar daddies. No. Her secret desire was far darker. She only felt true lust for men society called “mad.” The street wanderers. The mentally unstable. The forgotten souls. The kind who talked to the air, laughed at nothing, and roamed in tattered rags. She believed madness held a kind of freedom no rich man could ever give her. At night, when her friends were clubbing or posting half-naked pictures online, Maliya would sneak out in disguise. She wore an oversized hoodie, no makeup, just a scarf. She’d go behind the abandoned rail tracks where she knew one of them always slept. His name was Dogo. People said he had once been a brilliant university professor before something snapped in his head. Now he danced naked in the streets and barked like a dog. But to Maliya, Dogo was beautiful. She brought him food, bathed him, whispered to him, and made love to him like he was a king. And the terrifying part? He remembered her name. Every single time. “Maliya,” he would say, looking into her soul with eyes that once knew more than the world allowed. “They’ll never understand you, but I do.” She thought no one knew. Until one day, her closest friend, Anita, followed her. Anita had always suspected something strange about Maliya’s behavior. So when she saw Maliya sneaking behind the slums, she trailed her—and what she found left her speechless. Maliya on her knees, feeding a mad man with such devotion it almost looked holy. Anita tried to confront her. “Are you sick in the head? What if someone finds out? Your brand, your endorsements, your family—everything will be gone!” Maliya didn’t flinch. “I’m already gone, Anita. I’ve been gone since I was twelve and I watched my stepfather beat my mother to death and everyone called him a pastor. Madness feels safer than sanity to me.” Anita backed off. She didn’t understand, but she knew better than to question a pain she couldn’t imagine. But secrets don’t stay buried. A vlogger spotted Maliya a few days later, in her disguise, embracing another mad man near the river. The video went viral within hours. “Famous Slay Queen Seen Kissing Lunatic,” the headlines read. Her followers dropped. Brands cut ties. Her family disowned her. But strangely, she didn’t cry. She laughed. Laughed louder than ever before. Because now—finally—she didn’t have to hide. She took Dogo and two other mad men, moved into a remote area outside the city, and built a shelter for the mentally ill. She named it “The Free Mind.” But what she didn’t know was that one of the men she loved—one of the supposed “mad” men—wasn’t mad at all. He was a billionaire’s son hiding from a murderous conspiracy. And everything was about to change. To be continued.... Written by Real Life Stories Follow Bleeding pen for more
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  • When everything keep breaking while you're trying hard to mend. Just give yourself a break and get back to it later.
    #Stephenjesse #Discipline #nakupenda
    When everything keep breaking while you're trying hard to mend. Just give yourself a break and get back to it later. #Stephenjesse #Discipline #nakupenda
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  • Be a blessing to others no matter how small and not just bigger.
    #50 grandnut can gv U a good name..
    #Attendance
    #olufaderomi
    #Team E
    Be a blessing to others no matter how small and not just bigger. #50 grandnut can gv U a good name.. #Attendance #olufaderomi #Team E
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    1 Commentarios 0 Acciones 378 Views 0 Vista previa
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