Please, help me expòse this lady, 'I brought this woman to America but she showed me her true colors. I want the world to know who she truly is,
I've been used. I'm in deep regrèts and in païns. I don't know if helping someone is a crïme.. This lady that you see here is my wife, Years ago, my parents pressured me to get married; And i decided to make them happy by granting their wish. My Mom personally recommended this lady to me;
According to what i was told, she's mom's best friend's daughter and she's from a good home too. I didn't hesitate, I accepted to marry her. We communicated on phone, did video calls. And according to my judgment, from our chats, she wasn't bàd after all. On the month of December during my leave, I book a flight back home, & we did our wedding.
After the wedding, my wife refused to get pregnànt; she said that she didn't want to take a rïsk of being one of those wïves married to a bush faller who only comes to get them pregnànt and goes back abroad then, ends up leaving them frùstrated with kids. Though I didn't sit well with this idea but, she insisted. In fact, she mounted so much pressure on me that I was forced to speed up in processing her papers; luckily, it took just a few months, and she was finally granted a visa
It's s been a year gone since then. I've been a good husband to this lady, and I've never asked for anything from her in return. The only thing I asked was for her not to work here in America, and she has always respected that decision, though at times she pleads that she gets bored just sitting home all day, & pleads that she really wants to start earning her own money. But I've always maintained my stand. I prefer, I be the one to work while she stays home, make my food, takes care of the house, make babies & take gud care of them, they start coming
After some few months down the line, This lady here eventually joined a very bàd group of friends and they advised and put bàd ideas into her and she started to disobèy me. They, even went as far as getting her a job without my consent. Even though she pleaded but I still insisted on her not working, but she still went on to take the job disobèying me as her husband. I'm asking now, please, is a woman supposed to be this disrespectfùl to her husband?
Because, This is where i started to note her very bàd character, Two weeks later she even started work despite my refusals. So i also stoped eating hèr food and giving her a silent treatment just to make her come around, stop working, and at least see that I'm ùpset with her decision and probably beg and ask for my forgiveness. I just wanted to let her know how much I was annòyed over her decision to disòbey me. However, i was shòcked that me not eatïng my wife's food really means nothing to her, instead, she kept going to work every morning, pretending as if everything is fine, like she's unaware we're having issues. This really got to my bònes.
Months passed with her still going to work. That was when i really saw that she was determined to disòbey me. Well then, I decided to play along and waited for December holiday, in which I cajoled her & asked that we go back home and spend Christmas festival with family and old friends. She accepted. I was happy because i had my plans well worked out..
When we got back to the country, I immediately took her back to her parents, reported the matter to them, abandòned her there after the holiday was over, and left back for America, just to teach her a lesson.
Just to show how she's head-strong, this woman, contacted those same bàd friends she has over here just after a few months I left her in the village. And without my notice or concern, they made arrangements and still brought her back here abroad.
While i thought she was in the village where I dùmped her. This woman was here for over 4 months in America still working without my knowledge! The wòrst part is that she's not even living at my place.
Honestly!! this is the height of it all! All my life, I've never met a stùbborn lady like this. I'm so pïssed that I go to work everyday and i can't think straight anymore. I go to work and make a lot of errors because of the angèr and païn I'm feeling inside
In conclusion! I'm so done with this thing called a marriage. I can't be married to a woman who doesn't respect me as the chief commander and head of the family. A woman I picked from the gùtters, cleaned up and changed her life. As it is, I'm no longer interested in the marriage
But one thing is, I do not want to see her here in America. And I've told her this!!; I was the one who brought her here in the first place. I didn't bring her to work; I brought her here to make my meals, take care of my home, & kids. Because definitely, that's the duty of a good wife. Let her go back because if not for me, she wouldn't have in her life ever dreamed of coming to America. She has no relative here i was the one who brought her here.
This, lady you see here, is nothing but a gøld-dìggèr. Since she wants to prove she's a big woman who can disòbey her husbànd and take decisions for herself, let her go back to where I pïcked her from, because I'm done!
Victory, I've sent this message to your people since they're in support of your nàsty behavior. Besides, you haven't been able to get pregnànt for me either after all these years. Let it be noted that I'm done, I want my dowry refunded in full with immediate effect!"
my husband and I had a small aářgument one Tuesday morning while getting ready for work. He complained about the way I sliced the bread — said it looked messy and "unpresentable." His words hit me like a slap in the room. If I had known what would come after, I would have just laughed and prepared another slice. But life doesn't warn us... it just happens.
I was húřț by the tone he used, so I pushed my plate away and drove to work without eating. I left the house without saying goodbye. We were both áñğry, and neither of us wanted to swallow our pride first.
That night, we came home... silent. We ate in silence. We slept back-to-back, refusing to touch. Wednesday came. Thursday came. Same cold war. Same stubborn silence.
On Thursday evening, while serving dinner, he whispered a small "hello." I heard it... and my heart softened... but I let pride answer for me. l ignored him and continued eating.
He has always been handsome — that kind of man whose quiet smile could melt a storm. But I didn't want to "give in," so anytime he smiled gently at me, I found an excuse to walk away.
I told myself, "If this fïğht is going to end, he has to apologize. I won't let his smile make me surrender." Later that night, he went to take a shower, and I heard him humming our favorite love song. If we weren't upset, I would have joined him like we always did — one voice, one harmony.
But my pride stole that moment too. He came out of the bathroom and found me already pretending to be asleep. Around 2:50 a.m., I felt him tap me softly, trying to wake me up. I brushed his hand away, thinking he just wanted affection. I didn't know... that it would be the last time I would ever feel his touch.
By 6:45 a.m., my alarm rang. I rushed to get ready for work. He was still asleep — or so I thought. I didn't even look at him properly. Pride kept my mouth shut... so I left without a word.
When I came home around 7 p.m., the door was wide open. The house looked exactly the same way I left it in the morning. A fear l'd never felt before ran through me. I rushed to the bedroom... He was lying in the same exact position. My legs gave way.
I shook him. "Daniel... Daniel, wake up..." But his body felt cold. I put my ear on his chest — nothing. No breath. No heartbeat. I screamed until my voice cracked. I held him so tight, begging him to wake up. But he was already gone. It didn't feel real until the day he was lowered into the ground.
That's when it hit me fully: My husband died in our bed... and I didn't even notice.
He had a heart condition. When he tried to wake me up at 2:50 a.m., he was having a cardiac episode. He wasn't waking me for love — he needed help. But pride blinded me. I lost the man I truly, deeply loved — stupidly, silently — because I chose ego over peace. Sometimes the smallest arguments steal the most precious moment. #fypシ#everyoneシ゚#marriage#love#community#nigeria#australia#australianshepherd#austria
I deported my husband. I didn’t just divorce him; I put him on a plane back to the trenches. And I slept like a baby the night he left.
Half the people in my church are calling me a demon. The other half are whispering that they would have done the same thing. But before you type "Wicked Woman" in the comments, listen to what this man did to me.
My name is Sarah. I’m a Registered Nurse living in Houston, Texas. I worked double shifts, standing on my feet for 12 hours a day, wiping backsides and taking abuse from patients, just to save enough money.
Why?
To bring the "Love of my Life," Michael, to America.
We met when I went home for Christmas three years ago. Michael was charming, handsome, and spoke with that smooth accent that made my knees weak. He was a struggling engineer with "big dreams" but no opportunities.
"Baby, if you just get me to the States, I will treat you like a Queen," he promised. "I will work hard. I will build us an empire."
I believed him. I was 32, single, and lonely in a big house. I wanted a family. I spent $15,000 on lawyers, filing fees, and flights. I sponsored his K-1 Visa.
When Michael landed at George Bush Intercontinental Airport, I cried tears of joy. I thought my life was beginning.
For the first six months, he was perfect. He cooked. He cleaned. He rubbed my feet when I came home from the hospital.
"You are my angel," he would say. We got married at the courthouse. We filed for his Green Card (Adjustment of Status). The interview was scheduled for next week.
Last Sunday, I came home early from my shift because I had a migraine.
The house was quiet. Michael wasn't in the living room. I walked toward the bedroom, and I heard him laughing. He was on a video call.
I stopped. Something about his tone was... different. He wasn't speaking the sweet English he spoke to me. He was speaking Pidgin, fast and aggressive.
"Don't worry, babe. The maga doesn't suspect anything," he said.
Maga? My heart stopped. In our slang, "Maga" means a fool. A victim of a scam.
I crept closer to the door.
"The interview is next week," he continued, laughing. "Once I get that Green Card in my hand, I give it six months. Then I will file for divorce, claim 'irreconcilable differences,' and by next year, I will file for you and the kids to come over. America is sweet, babe. Just be patient."
A woman’s voice crackled on the speaker. "We miss you, daddy. Junior asks for you every day."
"Tell Junior daddy is working on his future. This woman is just the ladder. You are the owner of the house."
I didn't scream. I didn't kick down the door. A cold calmness washed over me. The kind of calm that scares you more than anger.
I walked back to my car, drove to a coffee shop, and sat there for three hours. I realized everything was a lie. The love. The foot rubs. The cooking. It was all a performance to secure his stay.
I went home later that evening and acted like everything was normal. I even kissed him. But the next morning, while he was at the gym, I went to the USCIS website.
I withdrew my Sponsorship.
I wrote a letter to the immigration officer explaining that the marriage was fraudulent and that I was no longer willing to support him financially.
I didn't tell Michael.
The morning of the interview, he put on his best suit. He looked so handsome. So confident. "Ready to make us official, baby?" he asked, fixing his tie.
"I'm ready," I smiled. We sat in the waiting room. When they called his name, the officer didn't invite us into an office.
Two ICE officers walked out instead.
They asked for his ID. They told him his petition had been withdrawn by the sponsor and his visa had expired. The look on his face? It wasn't fear. It was pure confusion. He looked at me.
"Sarah? What is going on?"
I stood up, smoothed my dress, and looked him dead in the eye. "I am not a ladder, Michael. And this Maga has closed the bank." I walked out of that building while he was shouting my name in handcuffs.
He is currently in a detention center awaiting deportation. His family back home has been blowing up my phone, cursing me, sending me Bible verses about forgiveness.
His "real wife" even sent me a DM begging me to reconsider for the sake of their children.
But I feel nothing.
I worked too hard for my peace to let a squatter live in it. Now, I’m sitting in my quiet house, drinking wine. Did I go too far? Should I have just divorced him and let him stay? Or did he get exactly what he ordered?
The collapse of my nine-year marriage didn't arrive with sound or fury. There was no clash of wills. No desperate words. Only a single piece of paper—a wedding invitation, glaringly embossed with my husband’s name in thick, arrogant gold. And the woman destined to be his bride? Not me. Not even a remote possibility. My name is Uche Chika Obi. I have shared my life with Dr. Emeka Obi for nearly a decade. We were known as "the composed pair." A model of quiet harmony. People admired our coordinated Sunday attire and our practiced, gentle smiles. What they failed to grasp was that our "composure" was merely the byproduct of my solitary, draining struggle to keep a dead love breathing. The revelation occurred on a Saturday morning. I was tidying the spare room, hanging up Emeka's dry cleaning, when a heavy, linen-bound envelope slid from the inner pocket of his coat. Initially, I dismissed it as another confidential hospital document he habitually misplaced. But the moment I saw it— The pristine white card stock. The edges kissed with gold foil. The ribbon tied with an opulent, heart-shaped seal— A cold dread clamped down on my heart. I unwrapped it with an unnatural slowness. My hands vibrated uncontrollably. My lungs emptied of air. The room fractured into a distorted, liquid haze. Etched across the fine paper, in a script that seemed to mock me, were the words: “You are cordially invited to celebrate the union of Dr. Emeka Obi & Miss Amarachi Nwoke Date: April 18th Venue: Crystal Gardens Hall.” I scanned the text. Once. Twice. A third time. The names remained brutally unchanged. MY husband. MY Emeka. MY foundation of nine years. He was preparing to marry. Someone else entirely. I felt no immediate rush of tears. The shock was too absolute, the weight of the betrayal too immense. It was the sensation of a hand slowly and deliberately crushing my ribcage. But the item that truly demolished me… The fragment that shattered my remaining sanity… Was a hastily scribbled post-it note tucked inside the sleeve: "Ensure absolute discretion until the formal announcement. Her peace is paramount for the day." HER. PEACE. IS. PARAMOUNT. And what, I wondered, was reserved for me? A battlefield? Silent erasure? Profound public shame? I remained frozen on the floor for what felt like an eternity, paralyzed by the weight of the card. Then I registered the timeline. The wedding was scheduled in fourteen days. Two weeks… And the man who slept beside me nightly… Who ate my meals… Who used the intimate phrase “my love”… Was meticulously planning his second nuptials. THE GHOST OF AMARACHI NWOKE I initially told myself I knew nothing of her. A blissful, short-lived lie. I took a photograph of the invitation— Zooming in on the miniature image of the couple— The moment I saw the bride’s face, a surge of adrenaline nearly ripped my sanity in half. I did know her. Not through friendship, but through a string of dismissed suspicions that now coalesced into crushing reality. She was the same woman who was a recurring, unsettling fixture at his medical practice… The same woman he had vaguely introduced as “a long-term patient”… The same woman whose chat notification I once glimpsed on his WhatsApp— A conversation he frantically erased before I could inquire. The same woman who had held him too long and too closely last Christmas… And he had dismissed my unease as “ridiculous jealousy.” The pieces of the puzzle fell into a sickening, perfect pattern. As I gripped the evidence of his deception, A frantic pounding erupted on the front door. It was not a visitor's tap. It was a distressed, panicked, desperate assault on the wood. I quickly masked my distress, shoved the invitation beneath my wrapper, and opened the door. It was Nkiru, Emeka’s younger sister. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her breathing was ragged, suggesting a frantic dash. “Uche…” she gasped. “Where is Emeka?!” She didn't wait for a response. She burst inside, slamming and locking the door behind her. She seized my arm, her fingers digging in tight. Then she articulated the sentence that eclipsed even the shock of the wedding card: “Listen to me, Uche. Whatever happens today… YOU MUST NOT ALLOW MY BROTHER TO LEAVE THIS HOUSE. He’s preparing for something final. If he succeeds… You will lose him forever.” I struggled to swallow the sudden dryness in my throat. “What… what are you saying?” She scanned the living room with paranoia. Then she leaned in close and whispered something that instantly drained all strength from my limbs. A truth more devastating than the bigamy. A scenario I had never even considered possible. A single piece of information that completely redefined the nine years I thought I had lived. Watch out for the episode 2
Why Safety is the Ultimate Investment, Not Just a Rulebook! 👷♀️💼 We often talk about "Health and Safety" as a necessary obligation, but it's so much more than that. It's the foundation of a successful, thriving business and a happy, healthy team. Here's why prioritizing safety matters to all of us: 1. The Human Element: It’s simple—everyone deserves to go home safe and sound at the end of the day. A commitment to safety shows genuine care for our people, reducing human suffering and boosting morale. 2. Business Stability: Accidents cause massive disruptions: downtime, investigations, medical costs, and potential legal fees. A robust safety program ensures business continuity and saves significant money in the long run. 3. Culture & Reputation: A safe workplace is a positive workplace. It attracts the best talent and builds a strong, trustworthy reputation with clients and the community. Safety is not an expense; it is an investment in our most valuable asset: our people. What is your company doing today to prioritize safety? Let us know in the comments! 👇 #HealthAndSafety#WorkplaceSafety#SafetyFirst#EmployeeWellbeing#BusinessTips#SafetyCulture
A few days ago, my friend was talking to a guy. She mentioned that she was looking to change her car. She currently drives a Range and wanted to buy the Mercedes AMG. Then he responded saying - why not a Toyota? Toyotas are more durable and last longer. And that she shouldnt waste money like that on luxury cars. It’s been 3 days and I’m still laughing.
The audacity of men is on steroids. You are telling a girl who makes almost half a million dollars a year, has a $1.2M house and drives a luxury car to buy a Toyota because it’s ’more durable’.
I don’t blame him. I blame my friend for being kind and giving him attention in the first instance 🙂. Can’t be me because 🥲… you no fit.
Oh he also said he hopes she is willing to split rent with him because his ex refused to pay half the rent 😂.
POLICE NAB SUSPECTED PIPELINE VANDAL IN RIVERS, EX-COUNCIL CHAIR LINKED TO ATTACK
PORT HARCOURT – March 26, 2025
The Rivers State Police Command has arrested a suspected pipeline vandal who was allegedly attempting to blow up the Aluu-Rumuekpe oil pipeline. The operation, which resulted in the deaths of some vandals and the capture of other suspects, was disclosed during a press briefing on Wednesday.
A police source, who spoke on condition of anonymity, revealed that the arrested suspect is cooperating with police investigation. According to the source, the suspect has made a confessional statement, alleging that he and his gang were sponsored by former Emohua Local Government Chairman, Hon. Chidi Lloyd.
“The suspect has been very cooperative, and his confession has provided critical leads,” the source stated. “Investigators are working to verify these claims, and Hon. Chidi Lloyd will be invited for questioning once the process is concluded.”
The Rivers State Police Command has yet to issue an official statement on the alleged sponsorship claims, but authorities have assured the public of a thorough investigation into the matter.
This development comes amid heightened efforts to curb oil theft and pipeline vandalism in Niger Delta, a menace that has significantly impacted the nation’s economy and environmental safety.
Police are offering a £10,000 reward for information regarding a teenage boy who vanished nearly 17 years ago. Alexander Sloley disappeared from Islington at the age of 16 in August 2008, and friends and family have not heard from him since. He was described as a light skinned Black male, 5ft 5ins tall and of medium build with striking blue eyes.
Detective Chief Inspector Sarb Kaur, who leads the investigation, said: “I would ask anyone with information who could help to please get in contact immediately, no matter how insignificant you think this could be."
"pls, I'm responding to my husband, the man who said he married me, sponsored me into a nursing school, took me abroad, & I betrayed him by processing my boyfriend's papers to join me in the States & got pregnant for him.
Pls, I'm not here to defend myself, but to tell exactly how it happened, so the world can also understand my position in the whole situation. I had to drop out of school due to a lack of finances. My parents are retired primary school teachers. During that very tough period, this guy's mom came to our house, told my mom she wished for her son to marry me. My parents talked me into it, even though they knew I was already in a serious relationship & deeply in love with my boyfriend Franklin
I actually didn't have much of a choice, since the guy was based abroad , doing very well for himself. I felt like this was a God-given opportunity to eradicate poverty in my family. On a quest to also please my family, after a few chats with him, our wedding was set, he came back to the country, & we finalized our marriage.
Now, before he traveled back, I pleaded with him to instead register me into a nursing school & start processing my documents when I was almost about to graduate, since it would obviously be expensive if I had to school abroad, & also so it could help me get a good job when I finally joined him. He was happy, proud of me, & even praised me for being smart.
He finally registered me, & an apartment was rented & furnished for me to stay in, so I could be comfortable while I schooled. Just a few months before my husband went back, my boyfriend came to me & cried, pleading that he was still very much in love with me. I felt really pity for him, knowing he did nothing wrong to me, & I was also still very much deeply in love with him; I couldn't resist taking him back.
We started seeing each other again, and he even moved in with me. So, I started asking my husband for more money & complaining of financial shortages, in which he always sent huge sums. I used this money to also register my boyfriend into an ICT learning program, so he could graduate with an international standards certificate, which could also help him get a good job abroad.
We had it discussed & planned that when I finally moved abroad, I would process his documents, & he would join me later. Actually, we saw this as a good opportunity that could change our lives forever. I believed it was God's doing.
To cut the long story short, luckily, my visa was ready a few months after my graduation. In which I joined my husband in the abroad. That same week, I immediately started making inquiries on how I could go about getting a job. My husband confessed how proud & happy he was to have an ambitious woman like me for a wife. He even helped me out in getting a "work permit" & also submitted my CV to several hospitals, & that's how I finally got a job.
However, I was still keeping in touch with my boyfriend. After 4 years of living abroad, I was already well-established & stable. After several trials & failures, my boyfriend's visa finally came out. I actually had no child with my husband for 4 years; he was worried. We did several tests, which always proved that we were both okay.
It's true that I was taking pills to avoid getting pregnant for him, & I also denied him access to my body for 6 months. Truth is, by this time, my boyfriend was already in the States. In which I finally got pregnant for him. I really didn't care anymore if my husband found out about us, cuz I was already deeply in love with my fiancé.
I actually planned on revealing everything to my husband in due time & probably ask for his forgiveness. But somehow, he found out on his own before I could. It's true I didn't feel remorseful. But instead, served him with divorce papers. My mind was already made up.
I'm sorry to say, our marriage from the onset was a sham. I honestly never loved him. My heart belongs to another. I did what I did out of love; any woman in my shoes would do the same. I'm just a lady who's in love. God bare me witness; I didn't mean for this to happen.
I'm not here to defend myself, like I said, but rather to apologize. I'm so sorry, Rowland. You are a good man. Even after everything I did, you still asked us to fix our marriage, even when I'm pregnant for someone else, & you kept apologizing when I'm the one who wronged you.
Please forgive me. I'm sorry that I cannot stay. Please consider my feelings too; my heart belongs to someone else. It wouldn't be good for us. Thanks so much for signing the divorce. And i pray that you'll find yourself a good woman whom truly deserves your love & would also reciprocate your love. I wish you all the best in life Rowland"
Nawoah.. I dey fear 😨 like this @everyone what's your thought?
Alright, let's crank up the humor and engagement on that anatomy class story! The Post: "Okay, med school confessions time! Picture this: fresh-faced first-years, ready to conquer the human body, gathered around a… well, let’s just say a very relaxed cadaver. Our professor, Dr. Krishna (legend has it, he once performed surgery with a spork), decided to kick things off with a 'hands-on' lesson. "First rule of being a doctor," he booms, "never be squeamish!" And then, he proceeds to… well, let's just say he explored the cadaver's 'southern hemisphere' with his finger, and then… tasted it. Yep, you read that right. He then tells us to do the same. Mortified? We were practically auditioning for a mime troupe. After a solid five minutes of internal screaming, we all bravely (or foolishly) followed suit. Faces twisted like we’d just tasted a week-old gym sock. Dr. Krishna, looking smug, drops the bombshell: "Second rule, observation! I used my middle finger, but you all tasted your index! Clearly, you're all going to need a lot more practice paying attention." Cue mass fainting. I swear, the cadaver looked less dead than we did. Moral of the story? Apparently, medicine isn't just about knowing your anatomy, it's also about knowing which finger you're licking. Also, maybe don't trust anyone who brings a spork to surgery. Lesson for life: Keep your eyes open, people! In 2025, with all the chaos, being observant is your superpower. Don't be the person who licks the wrong finger. Watch the news, question everything, and definitely double-check your utensils before surgery. #FingerFoodFail#MedSchoolMayhem#ObservationOverload#AnatomyAwkward#SporkSurgeon"
Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
Relationship stories that touch the heart 💔
Please, help me expòse this lady, 'I brought this woman to America but she showed me her true colors. I want the world to know who she truly is,
I've been used. I'm in deep regrèts and in païns. I don't know if helping someone is a crïme.. This lady that you see here is my wife, Years ago, my parents pressured me to get married; And i decided to make them happy by granting their wish. My Mom personally recommended this lady to me;
According to what i was told, she's mom's best friend's daughter and she's from a good home too. I didn't hesitate, I accepted to marry her. We communicated on phone, did video calls. And according to my judgment, from our chats, she wasn't bàd after all. On the month of December during my leave, I book a flight back home, & we did our wedding.
After the wedding, my wife refused to get pregnànt; she said that she didn't want to take a rïsk of being one of those wïves married to a bush faller who only comes to get them pregnànt and goes back abroad then, ends up leaving them frùstrated with kids.
Though I didn't sit well with this idea but, she insisted. In fact, she mounted so much pressure on me that I was forced to speed up in processing her papers; luckily, it took just a few months, and she was finally granted a visa
It's s been a year gone since then. I've been a good husband to this lady, and I've never asked for anything from her in return. The only thing I asked was for her not to work here in America, and she has always respected that decision, though at times she pleads that she gets bored just sitting home all day, & pleads that she really wants to start earning her own money. But I've always maintained my stand. I prefer, I be the one to work while she stays home, make my food, takes care of the house, make babies & take gud care of them, they start coming
After some few months down the line, This lady here eventually joined a very bàd group of friends and they advised and put bàd ideas into her and she started to disobèy me. They, even went as far as getting her a job without my consent. Even though she pleaded but I still insisted on her not working, but she still went on to take the job disobèying me as her husband. I'm asking now, please, is a woman supposed to be this disrespectfùl to her husband?
Because, This is where i started to note her very bàd character, Two weeks later she even started work despite my refusals. So i also stoped eating hèr food and giving her a silent treatment just to make her come around, stop working, and at least see that I'm ùpset with her decision and probably beg and ask for my forgiveness. I just wanted to let her know how much I was annòyed over her decision to disòbey me.
However, i was shòcked that me not eatïng my wife's food really means nothing to her, instead, she kept going to work every morning, pretending as if everything is fine, like she's unaware we're having issues. This really got to my bònes.
Months passed with her still going to work. That was when i really saw that she was determined to disòbey me. Well then, I decided to play along and waited for December holiday, in which I cajoled her & asked that we go back home and spend Christmas festival with family and old friends. She accepted. I was happy because i had my plans well worked out..
When we got back to the country, I immediately took her back to her parents, reported the matter to them, abandòned her there after the holiday was over, and left back for America, just to teach her a lesson.
Just to show how she's head-strong, this woman, contacted those same bàd friends she has over here just after a few months I left her in the village. And without my notice or concern, they made arrangements and still brought her back here abroad.
While i thought she was in the village where I dùmped her. This woman was here for over 4 months in America still working without my knowledge! The wòrst part is that she's not even living at my place.
Honestly!! this is the height of it all! All my life, I've never met a stùbborn lady like this. I'm so pïssed that I go to work everyday and i can't think straight anymore. I go to work and make a lot of errors because of the angèr and païn I'm feeling inside
In conclusion! I'm so done with this thing called a marriage. I can't be married to a woman who doesn't respect me as the chief commander and head of the family. A woman I picked from the gùtters, cleaned up and changed her life. As it is, I'm no longer interested in the marriage
But one thing is, I do not want to see her here in America. And I've told her this!!; I was the one who brought her here in the first place. I didn't bring her to work; I brought her here to make my meals, take care of my home, & kids. Because definitely, that's the duty of a good wife. Let her go back because if not for me, she wouldn't have in her life ever dreamed of coming to America. She has no relative here i was the one who brought her here.
This, lady you see here, is nothing but a gøld-dìggèr. Since she wants to prove she's a big woman who can disòbey her husbànd and take decisions for herself, let her go back to where I pïcked her from, because I'm done!
Victory, I've sent this message to your people since they're in support of your nàsty behavior. Besides, you haven't been able to get pregnànt for me either after all these years. Let it be noted that I'm done, I want my dowry refunded in full with immediate effect!"
Wahala no deh finish
#fypシ゚viralシ #unitedkingdom #fblifestylechallenge #fypシ゚viralシfypシ゚ #australia #lifelesson #uk #usa #usa_tiktok
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2 weeks ago | [YT] | 0
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Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
my husband and I had a small aářgument one Tuesday morning while getting ready for work.
He complained about the way I sliced the bread — said it looked messy and "unpresentable."
His words hit me like a slap in the room.
If I had known what would come after, I would have just laughed and prepared another slice.
But life doesn't warn us... it just happens.
I was húřț by the tone he used, so I pushed my plate away and drove to work without eating.
I left the house without saying goodbye.
We were both áñğry, and neither of us wanted to swallow our pride first.
That night, we came home... silent.
We ate in silence.
We slept back-to-back, refusing to touch.
Wednesday came.
Thursday came.
Same cold war. Same stubborn silence.
On Thursday evening, while serving dinner, he whispered a small "hello."
I heard it... and my heart softened... but I let pride answer for me.
l ignored him and continued eating.
He has always been handsome — that kind of man whose quiet smile could melt a storm.
But I didn't want to "give in," so anytime he smiled gently at me, I found an excuse to walk away.
I told myself,
"If this fïğht is going to end, he has to apologize. I won't let his smile make me surrender."
Later that night, he went to take a shower, and I heard him humming our favorite love song.
If we weren't upset, I would have joined him like we always did — one voice, one harmony.
But my pride stole that moment too.
He came out of the bathroom and found me already pretending to be asleep.
Around 2:50 a.m., I felt him tap me softly, trying to wake me up.
I brushed his hand away, thinking he just wanted affection.
I didn't know...
that it would be the last time I would ever feel his touch.
By 6:45 a.m., my alarm rang.
I rushed to get ready for work.
He was still asleep — or so I thought.
I didn't even look at him properly.
Pride kept my mouth shut... so I left without a word.
When I came home around 7 p.m., the door was wide open.
The house looked exactly the same way I left it in the morning.
A fear l'd never felt before ran through me.
I rushed to the bedroom...
He was lying in the same exact position.
My legs gave way.
I shook him.
"Daniel... Daniel, wake up..."
But his body felt cold.
I put my ear on his chest — nothing.
No breath.
No heartbeat.
I screamed until my voice cracked.
I held him so tight, begging him to wake up.
But he was already gone.
It didn't feel real until the day he was lowered into the ground.
That's when it hit me fully:
My husband died in our bed... and I didn't even notice.
He had a heart condition.
When he tried to wake me up at 2:50 a.m., he was having a cardiac episode.
He wasn't waking me for love — he needed help.
But pride blinded me.
I lost the man I truly, deeply loved — stupidly, silently
— because I chose ego over peace.
Sometimes the smallest arguments steal the most precious moment. #fypシ #everyoneシ゚ #marriage #love #community #nigeria #australia #australianshepherd #austria
2 weeks ago | [YT] | 0
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Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
I deported my husband. I didn’t just divorce him; I put him on a plane back to the trenches. And I slept like a baby the night he left.
Half the people in my church are calling me a demon. The other half are whispering that they would have done the same thing. But before you type "Wicked Woman" in the comments, listen to what this man did to me.
My name is Sarah. I’m a Registered Nurse living in Houston, Texas. I worked double shifts, standing on my feet for 12 hours a day, wiping backsides and taking abuse from patients, just to save enough money.
Why?
To bring the "Love of my Life," Michael, to America.
We met when I went home for Christmas three years ago. Michael was charming, handsome, and spoke with that smooth accent that made my knees weak. He was a struggling engineer with "big dreams" but no opportunities.
"Baby, if you just get me to the States, I will treat you like a Queen," he promised. "I will work hard. I will build us an empire."
I believed him. I was 32, single, and lonely in a big house. I wanted a family. I spent $15,000 on lawyers, filing fees, and flights. I sponsored his K-1 Visa.
When Michael landed at George Bush Intercontinental Airport, I cried tears of joy. I thought my life was beginning.
For the first six months, he was perfect. He cooked. He cleaned. He rubbed my feet when I came home from the hospital.
"You are my angel," he would say.
We got married at the courthouse. We filed for his Green Card (Adjustment of Status). The interview was scheduled for next week.
Last Sunday, I came home early from my shift because I had a migraine.
The house was quiet. Michael wasn't in the living room. I walked toward the bedroom, and I heard him laughing. He was on a video call.
I stopped. Something about his tone was... different. He wasn't speaking the sweet English he spoke to me. He was speaking Pidgin, fast and aggressive.
"Don't worry, babe. The maga doesn't suspect anything," he said.
Maga?
My heart stopped. In our slang, "Maga" means a fool. A victim of a scam.
I crept closer to the door.
"The interview is next week," he continued, laughing. "Once I get that Green Card in my hand, I give it six months. Then I will file for divorce, claim 'irreconcilable differences,' and by next year, I will file for you and the kids to come over. America is sweet, babe. Just be patient."
A woman’s voice crackled on the speaker. "We miss you, daddy. Junior asks for you every day."
"Tell Junior daddy is working on his future. This woman is just the ladder. You are the owner of the house."
I didn't scream. I didn't kick down the door. A cold calmness washed over me. The kind of calm that scares you more than anger.
I walked back to my car, drove to a coffee shop, and sat there for three hours. I realized everything was a lie. The love. The foot rubs. The cooking. It was all a performance to secure his stay.
I went home later that evening and acted like everything was normal. I even kissed him.
But the next morning, while he was at the gym, I went to the USCIS website.
I withdrew my Sponsorship.
I wrote a letter to the immigration officer explaining that the marriage was fraudulent and that I was no longer willing to support him financially.
I didn't tell Michael.
The morning of the interview, he put on his best suit. He looked so handsome. So confident.
"Ready to make us official, baby?" he asked, fixing his tie.
"I'm ready," I smiled.
We sat in the waiting room. When they called his name, the officer didn't invite us into an office.
Two ICE officers walked out instead.
They asked for his ID. They told him his petition had been withdrawn by the sponsor and his visa had expired. The look on his face? It wasn't fear. It was pure confusion. He looked at me.
"Sarah? What is going on?"
I stood up, smoothed my dress, and looked him dead in the eye. "I am not a ladder, Michael. And this Maga has closed the bank." I walked out of that building while he was shouting my name in handcuffs.
He is currently in a detention center awaiting deportation. His family back home has been blowing up my phone, cursing me, sending me Bible verses about forgiveness.
His "real wife" even sent me a DM begging me to reconsider for the sake of their children.
But I feel nothing.
I worked too hard for my peace to let a squatter live in it. Now, I’m sitting in my quiet house, drinking wine. Did I go too far? Should I have just divorced him and let him stay? Or did he get exactly what he ordered?
Tell me in the comments. 👇🏾
#copied
Me: Stories like these are shared so that some of you don't fall victim but some will still fall because you are still blind out of love It is well. #parentingtruths #lifelesson #fblifestyles #fypシ゚viralシ #LatestNews
2 weeks ago | [YT] | 0
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Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
The collapse of my nine-year marriage didn't arrive with sound or fury.
There was no clash of wills.
No desperate words.
Only a single piece of paper—a wedding invitation, glaringly embossed with my husband’s name in thick, arrogant gold.
And the woman destined to be his bride?
Not me.
Not even a remote possibility.
My name is Uche Chika Obi.
I have shared my life with Dr. Emeka Obi for nearly a decade.
We were known as "the composed pair."
A model of quiet harmony.
People admired our coordinated Sunday attire and our practiced, gentle smiles.
What they failed to grasp was that our "composure" was merely the byproduct of my solitary, draining struggle to keep a dead love breathing.
The revelation occurred on a Saturday morning.
I was tidying the spare room, hanging up Emeka's dry cleaning, when a heavy, linen-bound envelope slid from the inner pocket of his coat.
Initially, I dismissed it as another confidential hospital document he habitually misplaced.
But the moment I saw it—
The pristine white card stock.
The edges kissed with gold foil.
The ribbon tied with an opulent, heart-shaped seal—
A cold dread clamped down on my heart.
I unwrapped it with an unnatural slowness.
My hands vibrated uncontrollably.
My lungs emptied of air.
The room fractured into a distorted, liquid haze.
Etched across the fine paper, in a script that seemed to mock me, were the words:
“You are cordially invited to celebrate the union of
Dr. Emeka Obi & Miss Amarachi Nwoke
Date: April 18th
Venue: Crystal Gardens Hall.”
I scanned the text.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
The names remained brutally unchanged.
MY husband.
MY Emeka.
MY foundation of nine years.
He was preparing to marry.
Someone else entirely.
I felt no immediate rush of tears.
The shock was too absolute, the weight of the betrayal too immense. It was the sensation of a hand slowly and deliberately crushing my ribcage.
But the item that truly demolished me…
The fragment that shattered my remaining sanity…
Was a hastily scribbled post-it note tucked inside the sleeve:
"Ensure absolute discretion until the formal announcement.
Her peace is paramount for the day."
HER.
PEACE.
IS. PARAMOUNT.
And what, I wondered, was reserved for me?
A battlefield?
Silent erasure?
Profound public shame?
I remained frozen on the floor for what felt like an eternity, paralyzed by the weight of the card.
Then I registered the timeline.
The wedding was scheduled in fourteen days.
Two weeks…
And the man who slept beside me nightly…
Who ate my meals…
Who used the intimate phrase “my love”…
Was meticulously planning his second nuptials.
THE GHOST OF AMARACHI NWOKE
I initially told myself I knew nothing of her.
A blissful, short-lived lie.
I took a photograph of the invitation—
Zooming in on the miniature image of the couple—
The moment I saw the bride’s face, a surge of adrenaline nearly ripped my sanity in half.
I did know her.
Not through friendship, but through a string of dismissed suspicions that now coalesced into crushing reality.
She was the same woman who was a recurring, unsettling fixture at his medical practice…
The same woman he had vaguely introduced as “a long-term patient”…
The same woman whose chat notification I once glimpsed on his WhatsApp—
A conversation he frantically erased before I could inquire.
The same woman who had held him too long and too closely last Christmas…
And he had dismissed my unease as “ridiculous jealousy.”
The pieces of the puzzle fell into a sickening, perfect pattern.
As I gripped the evidence of his deception,
A frantic pounding erupted on the front door.
It was not a visitor's tap.
It was a distressed, panicked, desperate assault on the wood.
I quickly masked my distress, shoved the invitation beneath my wrapper, and opened the door.
It was Nkiru, Emeka’s younger sister.
Her eyes were bloodshot.
Her breathing was ragged, suggesting a frantic dash.
“Uche…” she gasped.
“Where is Emeka?!”
She didn't wait for a response.
She burst inside, slamming and locking the door behind her. She seized my arm, her fingers digging in tight.
Then she articulated the sentence that eclipsed even the shock of the wedding card:
“Listen to me, Uche. Whatever happens today…
YOU MUST NOT ALLOW MY BROTHER TO LEAVE THIS HOUSE.
He’s preparing for something final. If he succeeds…
You will lose him forever.”
I struggled to swallow the sudden dryness in my throat.
“What… what are you saying?”
She scanned the living room with paranoia.
Then she leaned in close and whispered something that instantly drained all strength from my limbs.
A truth more devastating than the bigamy.
A scenario I had never even considered possible.
A single piece of information that completely redefined the nine years I thought I had lived. Watch out for the episode 2
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2 weeks ago | [YT] | 0
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Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
Why Safety is the Ultimate Investment, Not Just a Rulebook! 👷♀️💼
We often talk about "Health and Safety" as a necessary obligation, but it's so much more than that. It's the foundation of a successful, thriving business and a happy, healthy team.
Here's why prioritizing safety matters to all of us:
1. The Human Element: It’s simple—everyone deserves to go home safe and sound at the end of the day. A commitment to safety shows genuine care for our people, reducing human suffering and boosting morale.
2. Business Stability: Accidents cause massive disruptions: downtime, investigations, medical costs, and potential legal fees. A robust safety program ensures business continuity and saves significant money in the long run.
3. Culture & Reputation: A safe workplace is a positive workplace. It attracts the best talent and builds a strong, trustworthy reputation with clients and the community.
Safety is not an expense; it is an investment in our most valuable asset: our people.
What is your company doing today to prioritize safety? Let us know in the comments! 👇
#HealthAndSafety #WorkplaceSafety #SafetyFirst #EmployeeWellbeing #BusinessTips #SafetyCulture
1 month ago | [YT] | 2
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Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
A few days ago, my friend was talking to a guy. She mentioned that she was looking to change her car. She currently drives a Range and wanted to buy the Mercedes AMG. Then he responded saying - why not a Toyota? Toyotas are more durable and last longer. And that she shouldnt waste money like that on luxury cars.
It’s been 3 days and I’m still laughing.
The audacity of men is on steroids. You are telling a girl who makes almost half a million dollars a year, has a $1.2M house and drives a luxury car to buy a Toyota because it’s ’more durable’.
I don’t blame him. I blame my friend for being kind and giving him attention in the first instance 🙂. Can’t be me because 🥲… you no fit.
Oh he also said he hopes she is willing to split rent with him because his ex refused to pay half the rent 😂.
Me: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
6 months ago | [YT] | 1
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Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
POLICE NAB SUSPECTED PIPELINE VANDAL IN RIVERS, EX-COUNCIL CHAIR LINKED TO ATTACK
PORT HARCOURT – March 26, 2025
The Rivers State Police Command has arrested a suspected pipeline vandal who was allegedly attempting to blow up the Aluu-Rumuekpe oil pipeline. The operation, which resulted in the deaths of some vandals and the capture of other suspects, was disclosed during a press briefing on Wednesday.
A police source, who spoke on condition of anonymity, revealed that the arrested suspect is cooperating with police investigation. According to the source, the suspect has made a confessional statement, alleging that he and his gang were sponsored by former Emohua Local Government Chairman, Hon. Chidi Lloyd.
“The suspect has been very cooperative, and his confession has provided critical leads,” the source stated. “Investigators are working to verify these claims, and Hon. Chidi Lloyd will be invited for questioning once the process is concluded.”
The Rivers State Police Command has yet to issue an official statement on the alleged sponsorship claims, but authorities have assured the public of a thorough investigation into the matter.
This development comes amid heightened efforts to curb oil theft and pipeline vandalism in Niger Delta, a menace that has significantly impacted the nation’s economy and environmental safety.
8 months ago | [YT] | 3
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Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
Police are offering a £10,000 reward for information regarding a teenage boy who vanished nearly 17 years ago. Alexander Sloley disappeared from Islington at the age of 16 in August 2008, and friends and family have not heard from him since. He was described as a light skinned Black male, 5ft 5ins tall and of medium build with striking blue eyes.
Detective Chief Inspector Sarb Kaur, who leads the investigation, said: “I would ask anyone with information who could help to please get in contact immediately, no matter how insignificant you think this could be."
8 months ago | [YT] | 0
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Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
"pls, I'm responding to my husband, the man who said he married me, sponsored me into a nursing school, took me abroad, & I betrayed him by processing my boyfriend's papers to join me in the States & got pregnant for him.
Pls, I'm not here to defend myself, but to tell exactly how it happened, so the world can also understand my position in the whole situation. I had to drop out of school due to a lack of finances. My parents are retired primary school teachers. During that very tough period, this guy's mom came to our house, told my mom she wished for her son to marry me. My parents talked me into it, even though they knew I was already in a serious relationship & deeply in love with my boyfriend Franklin
I actually didn't have much of a choice, since the guy was based abroad , doing very well for himself. I felt like this was a God-given opportunity to eradicate poverty in my family. On a quest to also please my family, after a few chats with him, our wedding was set, he came back to the country, & we finalized our marriage.
Now, before he traveled back, I pleaded with him to instead register me into a nursing school & start processing my documents when I was almost about to graduate, since it would obviously be expensive if I had to school abroad, & also so it could help me get a good job when I finally joined him. He was happy, proud of me, & even praised me for being smart.
He finally registered me, & an apartment was rented & furnished for me to stay in, so I could be comfortable while I schooled. Just a few months before my husband went back, my boyfriend came to me & cried, pleading that he was still very much in love with me. I felt really pity for him, knowing he did nothing wrong to me, & I was also still very much deeply in love with him; I couldn't resist taking him back.
We started seeing each other again, and he even moved in with me. So, I started asking my husband for more money & complaining of financial shortages, in which he always sent huge sums. I used this money to also register my boyfriend into an ICT learning program, so he could graduate with an international standards certificate, which could also help him get a good job abroad.
We had it discussed & planned that when I finally moved abroad, I would process his documents, & he would join me later. Actually, we saw this as a good opportunity that could change our lives forever. I believed it was God's doing.
To cut the long story short, luckily, my visa was ready a few months after my graduation. In which I joined my husband in the abroad. That same week, I immediately started making inquiries on how I could go about getting a job. My husband confessed how proud & happy he was to have an ambitious woman like me for a wife. He even helped me out in getting a "work permit" & also submitted my CV to several hospitals, & that's how I finally got a job.
However, I was still keeping in touch with my boyfriend. After 4 years of living abroad, I was already well-established & stable. After several trials & failures, my boyfriend's visa finally came out. I actually had no child with my husband for 4 years; he was worried. We did several tests, which always proved that we were both okay.
It's true that I was taking pills to avoid getting pregnant for him, & I also denied him access to my body for 6 months. Truth is, by this time, my boyfriend was already in the States. In which I finally got pregnant for him. I really didn't care anymore if my husband found out about us, cuz I was already deeply in love with my fiancé.
I actually planned on revealing everything to my husband in due time & probably ask for his forgiveness. But somehow, he found out on his own before I could. It's true I didn't feel remorseful. But instead, served him with divorce papers. My mind was already made up.
I'm sorry to say, our marriage from the onset was a sham. I honestly never loved him. My heart belongs to another. I did what I did out of love; any woman in my shoes would do the same. I'm just a lady who's in love. God bare me witness; I didn't mean for this to happen.
I'm not here to defend myself, like I said, but rather to apologize. I'm so sorry, Rowland. You are a good man. Even after everything I did, you still asked us to fix our marriage, even when I'm pregnant for someone else, & you kept apologizing when I'm the one who wronged you.
Please forgive me. I'm sorry that I cannot stay. Please consider my feelings too; my heart belongs to someone else. It wouldn't be good for us. Thanks so much for signing the divorce. And i pray that you'll find yourself a good woman whom truly deserves your love & would also reciprocate your love. I wish you all the best in life Rowland"
Nawoah..
I dey fear 😨 like this
@everyone what's your thought?
Copied....
8 months ago | [YT] | 0
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Behind Close Doors and Open Secret Gist
Alright, let's crank up the humor and engagement on that anatomy class story!
The Post:
"Okay, med school confessions time! Picture this: fresh-faced first-years, ready to conquer the human body, gathered around a… well, let’s just say a very relaxed cadaver. Our professor, Dr. Krishna (legend has it, he once performed surgery with a spork), decided to kick things off with a 'hands-on' lesson.
"First rule of being a doctor," he booms, "never be squeamish!" And then, he proceeds to… well, let's just say he explored the cadaver's 'southern hemisphere' with his finger, and then… tasted it. Yep, you read that right.
He then tells us to do the same. Mortified? We were practically auditioning for a mime troupe. After a solid five minutes of internal screaming, we all bravely (or foolishly) followed suit. Faces twisted like we’d just tasted a week-old gym sock.
Dr. Krishna, looking smug, drops the bombshell: "Second rule, observation! I used my middle finger, but you all tasted your index! Clearly, you're all going to need a lot more practice paying attention."
Cue mass fainting. I swear, the cadaver looked less dead than we did.
Moral of the story? Apparently, medicine isn't just about knowing your anatomy, it's also about knowing which finger you're licking. Also, maybe don't trust anyone who brings a spork to surgery.
Lesson for life: Keep your eyes open, people! In 2025, with all the chaos, being observant is your superpower. Don't be the person who licks the wrong finger. Watch the news, question everything, and definitely double-check your utensils before surgery.
#FingerFoodFail #MedSchoolMayhem #ObservationOverload #AnatomyAwkward #SporkSurgeon"
8 months ago | [YT] | 1
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