Friday In House News

 Fantastic Friday Hailings...

FRIDAY MEMO

I salute everyone!!!!

Happy start into the weekend.... I pray that your day ends well today and begins well tomorrow.....

Hugs to you all.....

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INSIDE THE MIND OF A WOMAN GOING THROUGH MOTHERHOOD.

As a young child, I was an avid reader. I was always reading. By the time I was in primary four, I had made a huge dent on my Dad's religious book collection. I read books like “ He came to set the captive free” by Rebecca Brown.

These books are Christian books with deep expository on occult practices, realms, and the supernatural as a whole.
As a young child, I was kind of drawn to books like this and read as much as possible.

So one faithful day my friends and I sat down during break time, I can still remember our sitting arrangement vividly and someone started talking about the little mermaid cartoon and how Ariel the little mermaid was cute and how it would be cool to be one.

Hmnn off, I went on, talking about how they Marine Kingdom exist, portals and object used to access the marine kingdom, and how animal sacrifices could be used to tap into it.
A classmate who was a traditionalist was collaborating my story. I even in my good childish heart warned them not to joke with the marine world.

Some of the kids went home and told their parents and the next day, a parent was in school and reported me to the school owner. I was summoned to the office and asked to repeat what I said, which I did.
That day started a life of hell for me in primary school. The proprietor called for the most feared teacher. “Mr prosper” and I was flogged till I was close to collapsing.
I couldn’t sit or lie down for days. My parents were too busy with church to notice. After that day, she would call me regularly during break time to be flogged. She would come to my class to check up on me, and if I was seen playing with any pupil, I was flogged till I couldn’t breathe again, so I learnt to stay away from everyone. She did this till I left primary school.
I have kids now, and despite being a Christian and in the five fold ministry, I have shielded my kids greatly from religious materials. Apart from the fact that Jesus loves them and they are going to heaven one day, all they know is the light and love part of God.

Yesterday something happened and my boys asked me “Mum who is Satan?”. Simple question, right? for a believer, but because of my early and overly exposure to religious and new age materials, it rattled me badly.

The truth is I didn’t stop reading, I just stopped talking.
I was experiencing the supernatural so much as a child that I buried my head in books on them to find answers. I explained a little to my boys without giving too much detail, but its time to start introducing them little by little to the Christian’s perspective of humans and the vast spiritual world.

( I kind of understood the fear that drove the school owner into flogging me like that but I didn’t deserve to be punished and alienated like that, she was close to my parents, she knew they had a ministry which held a lot of deliverance programs. I was just a child who spewed out what she read, talking to me would have sufficed)

So why did you keep quiet when they flogged you so much? why didnt you report to your parents?why didnt you fight back? I was a fighter in school because of oppressions like this, you cannot beat or punish me and go scot free.........I was like you for only just a while until i realised one has to fight back or pay back....Its the only way to survive...Also teach your kids street sense alongside learning the Bible oh..

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NOTORIOUS FOR JESUS

SUNDAY NON-TRADITION

Growing up, Sundays had only one meaning for me, rice, beans, stew, and fresh fish. - It was more than food; it was a family ritual.
I remember sitting in church, pretending to listen to the sermon. But really, my thoughts were already in the kitchen at home. Otilo!

I could almost smell the stew simmering in my imagination.
My siblings and I would exchange glances towards end of service, our stomachs rumbling in agreement. The choir could sing for hours, and I wouldn’t care, my mind was set on that fish. 

My mother was the mastermind behind the magic. Her hands had a way of turning ordinary ingredients into feasts. Every Sunday meal tasted like a celebration. It bonded us as a family, week after week.

Now, years later, I find myself in her shoes.
But I’ve chosen a different path in my kitchen.
I don’t hold on to the rice-and-stew tradition.
Some Sundays it’s pounded yam and egusi, Other times it’s spaghetti or even small chops.
For me, the joy is in the freedom of choice.
My children laugh when I switch things up.
They will grow with their own memories, just as I did.

I was traumatised by Beans growing up..I cant forget it...If i smell it anywhere i remember poverty!

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DEAR MEN'

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MADAM AMEBO CORNER

I visited my sister's house recently, and two women were fighting dirty in the middle of the road that hot afternoon, one tore the other one's clothes and ibom air happened, ewooo bobbi everywhere (Osalobwaaaa lahoorrr).....

Let me call them Rita and Gina, Rita de do POS, de sell other female stuffs like earrings, necklaces , undies and make ups, Gina de sell African salad and she no get money but she de like good things, she loves everything Rita does, sometimes she goes to Rita to borrow cash from her when things tight for am, there friendship was the envy of all the friendships around....

If Rita wants to eat something nice, she gives money to Gina to cook so they can eat and enjoy themselves when their husbands and kids are not looking, Rita's husband is an old rickety ogogoro drinker, Gina's husband is a hot vibrant guy but him no too send him wife cos she did catch them young for outside.....

Most times, Rita travels for days to the North cos of her jewelry business, but whenever she comes back, she de always come back with goodies and some juicy stones of her escapades for her dear friend.....

At some point, the friend joined her for the juicy trips and the Alhajis were not disappointing at all, her looks changed, her business face changed, she turned it to a spot for special Abacha and palm wine, it was booming, at some point she started traveling alone, but their friendship was booming, they had so much to gist and laugh about, they started calling them the twins.....

But, what Gina didn't know was that, while she was away frolicking with those men, that Rita was busy banging her husband and the rumour was everywhere, everyone heard about it except her cos she was too busy, the man lashed Rita so well that she opened up everything to him, even promised him that she had gotten enough from them and has stopped, that her business is now enough to sustain her and that she has changed, she even lied to the man that she begged his wife to stop but she refused and said she enjoys the Alhajis well more than her husband, Oga became very upset and decided to be doking Rita better and give her some unforgettable memories.....

I no know how Gina take hear, but she decided to confront her one time friend who is now forming a saint, Rita threatened to expose her to everyone if she no carry her shame enter house but Gina decided to throw caution into the winds and then fight started, Gina beat Rita sotteyy she almost collapsed, she tore her clothes and Ibom'd her, I saw it with my two holy eyes...

Rita picked her self from the floor after people separated them, she took razor and attacked her again, threw her food and scattered her shop, police came and took them, because of the story, i stayed in my sister's place till 8pm in the night and almost forgot that I live in a different state and have kids to return to, woooohhhh Amebo no go kpaiii me shaa......

LMAO @ ibomd here

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WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH

You can speak about your goals all day, but until you act, they remain just words and empty promises to yourself.

Motivation without execution is just noise. The truth is, success doesn’t come from what you say, it comes from what you do.

Start that business, send the pitch and learn that skill. Even if it’s messy, even if you’re afraid, just do it.
Progress is built on imperfect action, not perfect intentions.
Words can inspire, but only action transforms.
Let today be the day you stop talking and start acting on those words.

If you’ve been waiting for the right time, it is now.
Enough of the talking. It's time to act on those words you have spoken for too long.
Action is the bridge between where you are and where you want to be.
copied

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