BomeNkommo, 11384, Accra (2025)

18/06/2025

The Girl I Used to Be… and the Stranger I’ve Become
------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi everyone,

I don’t really know how to begin this, or even why I’m writing. Maybe I’m hoping someone out there will understand. Or maybe this is just my way of crying out for help — silently, without having to look anyone in the eye.

Please… don’t judge me.

All my life, I was the “good girl.” The obedient one. The girl who kept herself. I had rules, strict ones. I didn’t date. I didn’t let boys close. I was waiting for something real — for a love that would lead to marriage. I didn’t want to be used, touched, or tossed aside. I wanted to be cherished.

Then I turned 20.

A few days after my birthday, I met him. He told me he was done with flings and ready for something serious. A relationship. Marriage. His words felt like fate — like my prayers had finally been answered.

I let my guard down. For the first time in my life, I said yes to love.

He was sweet at first. Gentle. He knew I was a virgin, and he was patient. After two months, I told him I was ready. We had s*x for the first time, and it felt… special. Honest. Like something sacred.

But little by little, the sacred started to fade.

Everything began to revolve around s*x. Still, I didn’t complain — because I loved him. I believed love meant sacrifice.

Then the criticisms began. He told me I was bad in bed. That I was boring. That I should buy a “pussy sweater” to spice things up. I was crushed — humiliated — but I still wanted to make it work. So I forced myself to watch p**n, tried new things, changed myself to become the girl he wanted.

Then came the accusations. He said I was sleeping with my boss. I wasn’t. I would never. I tried to reassure him again and again. I gave him everything. My heart. My body. My time. My money. I bought him gifts, cooked for him, did everything I could to prove my loyalty.

Still, it was never enough.

One day, he said he wanted a third person in our relationship. My heart shattered — but I stayed. I stayed even when it hurt. I stayed because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

I even quit my job because he didn’t trust me around my boss. That’s how far I went. That’s how deep I fell.

And then, after ten months, he left.

Just like that.

I begged him to stay. I cried. I humiliated myself. He didn’t care. He was done.

And I… I haven’t been the same since.

I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I hated myself. Every night, I saw him in my dreams. Every morning, I woke up to the nightmare of my reality.

But the worst part?

The part I’m most ashamed of?

He made me addicted to s*x — something I never even wanted to begin with. And now, without him, I’ve been spiraling. In the three months since we broke up, I’ve already slept with five different guys.

Me.

The girl who once swore she’d wait for love.

Now I feel like a stranger to myself — hollow, lost, unrecognizable.

I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to forgive myself. I just want to feel clean again. Whole again.

I don’t expect sympathy. But if you’ve been here — if you know this darkness — just know you’re not alone.

I’m still trying to find my way back to the girl I used to be.

Or maybe… trying to become someone stronger. Someone new.

- Anonymous

01/10/2024

Keep me anonymous. I separated from my husband because he was always cheating. Things got worse when he got another woman pregnant while I was also expecting our child. We didn’t officially divorce, but I went back to live with my parents and gave birth.

During this time, I met a man who showed interest in me. I explained my situation with my husband, and he said he would wait for the divorce because he loved me. Eventually, I moved in with him, and I knew that it was a mistake. Even my mom was against it, but he was taking care of me, and I felt I couldn’t say no when he suggested I move in.

Over time, I started noticing his true character. His temper is terrible. He gets angry over small things and slaps me. Every time, he would apologize, but it kept happening. The cycle of anger and abuse never stopped. I eventually moved back to my parents’ house, but now I’ve found out that I’m pregnant again. It’s only a few weeks, and so far, only my mom knows.

Meanwhile, my husband has come back, apologizing and wanting me to return home. His baby mama has already given birth, but he says they are no longer together.

I’m so confused. Is abortion the right choice in this situation since the baby isn’t my husband’s? The man who abused me keeps calling, begging for forgiveness, though he doesn’t know I’m pregnant with his child. Please advise me.

13/09/2024

***** I SUSPECT MY WIFE********

I dated my wife for six years, and after we graduated from university, we got married. Things weren’t going particularly well between us, but we decided to tie the knot to avoid people mocking our relationship.

About five months into our marriage, she got a job offer at a bank with a very good salary. I was genuinely happy for her, even though I was still struggling to find my footing. I kept praying and pushing myself to become a better man. We were happy as a family, but deep down, I felt inadequate because, without financial stability, a man often feels undervalued.

There was this particular man who frequently dropped my wife off after work. When I asked her about it, she said he was her boss and, as a reward for her hard work, he offered her a ride home. I noticed that the same number would often call her late at night. When I asked her about it, she said it was work-related. I trusted her completely, because why wouldn’t I? She was working hard to support our family. I had no reason to doubt her.
Eventually, I ventured into forex trading, and with determination and God's grace, I became financially stable. By this time, we had two beautiful children—a son and a daughter. I loved them both dearly. Our son resembled her, while our daughter took after me. With my newfound financial success, my wife had some relief, as I could now fully provide for our family.

I asked her to quit her job, explaining that I could take care of all our needs. But she refused, saying she didn’t want to be idle. To support her independence, I proposed opening a mini-mart for her to manage, but she insisted on continuing her banking career. I respected her decision, not because I couldn’t stop her, but because I believed she had the right to make her own choices, even as my wife.

A year later, I decided that we should relocate abroad for a fresh start. She was thrilled by the idea, and we began making preparations, including buying food and essentials for the move. Part of the process involved some routine medical tests, but every time I reminded her to go, she always found an excuse to delay it.
As we ran out of time, I told her I’d take the kids for their tests in three days, and she agreed. But I noticed her demeanor had changed. She became moody, her body language was off, and she seemed distant. I asked her what was wrong, and she brushed it off as stress from work.

I urged her to leave the job, but she remained adamant. The next day, while our kids were at school, I received a call that my son was vomiting blood. I immediately tried to reach my wife, but she wasn’t answering her phone, which made sense as to why the school contacted me.
I rushed to the school, only to find out that my son had already been taken to the hospital. By the time I arrived, it was too late—he was gone. The doctor told me he had died from food poisoning.
I was shattered.

How did this happen? When did it happen? Why? Where? And most importantly, by whom?

12/09/2024

My Husband is a cheat......

After entering into matrimony, I discerned a pattern of infidelity in my spouse. On certain occasions, he absents himself for extended periods without any form of communication, and upon my expression of discontent, he callously retorts that if my comfort is compromised, I am at liberty to vacate his residence.

I endured everything until I gave birth. Even when he beat me with mop sticks, I stayed silent, too scared to speak up because I worried about what people would say. Every time we had a minor argument, he would throw my things out. I always found myself begging for peace, trying to make things work, until one day he left the house for four days without a word or a call.

When he finally returned, I served him food and calmly asked where he had been, telling him that if something had happened to him, I would be blamed. He got angry and said I had no right to question him, throwing insults at me. Then, he threw my belongings out once again. Our baby was only 10 months old at the time, and that was my breaking point. I packed my things and left. I called my mom and explained everything. She immediately called him, but he insulted her too.

They tried to mediate between us, and he said he would rent an apartment for me and our daughter, suggesting we could visit him on weekends. I refused, because I couldn’t start something I knew I couldn’t finish. I told him that if he didn’t want us in his house, he should take back his bride price. His mother was furious and called me stubborn for rejecting the offer.

Later, I discovered the real reason he wanted us out—he had gotten another woman pregnant. My mom stood by me throughout, and when I graduated from university, she gathered some money to rent an apartment for me and my daughter, since I wasn’t working at the time. I started a teaching job shortly after, which didn’t pay much, but it helped. My husband would send 15,000 naira monthly for our daughter's upkeep, but it was barely enough, especially when she started school. Despite my efforts, he refused to increase the allowance or take back his bride price.
We were separated for over a year. During that time, I didn’t date anyone; I focused entirely on myself and my daughter. Unfortunately, I lost my mom last December. He called to offer his condolences, but that was it. He didn’t attend the funeral, and his mother never reached out.

After the burial in February, he called saying he wanted to see his daughter. When we met, he apologized for everything and said he deeply regretted what happened. He claimed he wanted us back. I asked him about the woman he got pregnant, and he told me she had miscarried and they were no longer together.

Now, I need advice. Should I go back to him?

02/09/2024

My boyfriend is addicted to smelling my underwear. When I am not around him, your suggestion is needed on how I should go about it.

I became aware of the situation when my pant went missing for several months without a trace. I inquired with him, as he was the only one who occasionally stayed over at my place, along with my younger sister. His response was negative. He actively assisted me in the search and consistently reassured me not to dwell on it excessively. Despite this, I also confided in my mother out of fear.

On a fateful Friday, I visited his residence unexpectedly after my work hours, only to find that he was not yet home, presumably still at his workplace. Upon entering, I observed that the bedsheet appeared soiled, prompting me to change it in preparation for washing it the following day, which happened to be Saturday. My dear friends, on that day, I was utterly astounded. Can you imagine the incredulity I experienced when I discovered my misplaced pant within my boyfriend's pillowcase? The shock was so intense, I felt as though I might lose consciousness. I immediately contacted my mother to relay this peculiar discovery. Her counsel was to refrain from confronting him directly, but rather to vigilantly observe his behavior. That evening, sleep eluded me entirely. As bedtime approached, I surreptitiously switched the pillows to gauge his reaction. In a matter of minutes, he detected the alteration and requested the return of his preferred pillow, citing an inexplicable attachment to it.

That very night, my boyfriend, who has a habit of checking his phone after using the bathroom before going back to sleep, did something unexpected. While on his phone, he started inhaling my underwear with such intensity that it was like he was on cloud nine. The expression on his face said it all—he was completely lost in the sensation, almost as if he were inhaling the scent of a Valentine's rose. He did this three times before morning, and just before leaving for the gym, he snuck into the bathroom to do it once more. This continued throughout the night I stayed with him. When I was getting ready for work, I made sure to take my underwear with me.

The following day, Baaba my sis came to my place straight from work, looking unusually serious. I asked him, 'Bebs, what's the matter? You don't look okay. Do you want to talk about it? I'm all ears.' But Baaba said nothing and instead asked if he could spend the night with me. I agreed. Around midnight, I noticed Baba rummaging through my room. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I confronted him and told him I knew what he was doing. I asked if he was involved in any rituals because if he was, I would inform both of our families. Suddenly, tears started streaming down his face. It was the first time I had ever seen a man cry like that, like a baby, begging me for forgiveness.

He admitted that he was just addicted to the scent of my underwear and that he meant no harm. He even confessed that he has a 'fe**sh.' But what does that really mean? Hmm. My brothers and sisters, this addiction of his has gotten worse. Just last week, I went to his place to do some laundry, and I found my underwear tucked into his shirt pocket, another one in his briefcase—eiii, what is this? And when we were traveling to his village to visit his parents, I needed wipes to clean my legs. But instead of wipes, I found my underwear inside his car! This is not a joke anymore.

How do I go about it without disrespecting him. I love him and wish I could help him get over this, is so embarrassing

Kindly help me me out

12/08/2024

I am reaching out for advice because I feel like I'm slowly dying inside, and no one seems to understand me.

I am a 28-year-old woman with a stable job, and I've been praying for a husband for many years. I would say I am comfortable in life and have been ready to settle down for the past two years, but I haven't been fortunate in love. I've dated three times since I turned 21. The first relationship ended in March 2018. Then, in December 2021, I began dating someone else with the hope that it would lead to something meaningful, but we had to part ways in April 2022.

On May 2nd of last year, I met someone new who wants to settle down with me. However, my family is against it, saying I can't marry into his family. His family feels the same way, saying he can't marry me because of a long-standing feud between our families. Neither of us knew about this issue until I brought him home to meet my parents on December 3rd.

I know the beginning of every relationship is usually wonderful, but I have come to love this man deeply. He treats me so well, and I never imagined I would have to let go of this relationship.

He is also reluctant to terminate the relationship, notwithstanding his family summoning him to the palace and cautioning him to part ways with me, or else he would be compelled to sever his connections with them. Although he has not wronged me, due to my association with him, my family has chosen to ostracize me. Despite numerous admonitions from my father, I persist in my relationship with him.

On June 10th this year , I told him that we couldn't be together anymore, but I didn't mean it. Now, I feel completely broken. I can't stop crying, and I don't understand why this is happening just when I've met someone who treats me so well.

I want to move on, but I don't know how. I was fully invested in this relationship and was ready to settle down with him, but now I feel like I have to pull myself out. It’s so difficult because he keeps coming to me. He came to my place and wouldn't leave; he even slept in his car because I wouldn't let him in. He's been doing this ever since I told him we couldn't be together. I blocked him on all social media platforms, and his calls can't get through, but he hasn't stopped coming to my house.

I feel so hurt knowing that he's hurting too, but I'm also scared that if we continue, our relationship might not end well.

Please, I need advice. Should I continue with the relationship, or should I stand my ground? I feel like I'm hurting more than he is. I really love him.

23/07/2024

My husband of two years is getting married in two-weeks time from now and the painful part is I have now found out that i'm a month gone.

I suspected him and a lady who will soon be his wife. I asked him about her and his reply was she is like a sister to him. The to be wife is my sister in law childhood bestfriend and till date are, the shocking part is my sis in-law is aware of the marriage, the family is also aware except me. How I got to know was when I heard my sister in law discussing with my husband how they were going to inform me about it, I was in the room and they thought I was asleep but was coming down for water so I overheard them.

Both don't know I heard the conversation. She is even my favorite among the rest of the sisters. She is not married and she is doing this to me. My husband doesn't know i'm a month gone now and I don't know what to do. It's painful how my husband treats me like the queen I deserve but is doing this to me. I can't take it and i don't know what to do

Planning of arresting my husband a day before the wedding now all I have is wicked
What do I do??

17/07/2024

As a young girl in my teens, I started exploring early. My father's friend used to make s*xual advances towards me when I was around 12 to 13yrs old and eventually broke my virginity using his finger. After that, area boys were just having me for breakfast and lunch . I don't know why but I just liked the idea of being needed by these guys at all times .

At the age of 17, I couldn't count the number of men I'd dated, and I honestly couldn't remember all of them. My life continued in university, but my price rose from neighborhood boys to rich old men or dbee boys who could afford my lifestyle. Around the age of 27, I got a wake-up call: a friend I met at university who was introducing me to some of the men had HIV, so I went to get tested, and thankfully I was negative.

Since then, I've tried to commit to one partner. I am 33 now and it’s been a challenge. The allure of multiple partners is irresistible. I often meet random men at clubs, succumbing to temptation and forgetting I'm in a relationship. I always ensure I carry protection. In my last relationship, I knew I hurt him deeply, even though he never discovered my infidelity. He was a genuinely good person who didn't deserve my deceit, so I decided to let him go.

I need advice because I'm constantly overwhelmed by desire, yearning for multiple men at once and never feeling satisfied. I've experimented with threesomes and various fe**shes involving multiple partners, but I still feel empty. Am I unwell? Will I ever be able to commit? I've tried turning to religion and even saw a psychologist once, but neither provided a solution.

13/07/2024

My eight-year marriage came to an end in 2019 when my husband died after a short illness. We had three children. It was really tough, but we pulled through. During the grieving process, my late husband's close friend, who was also his best man, was very supportive. He voluntarily started paying the fees for my first child, while I handled the rest.

My husband's family shunned me, but I'm not bitter about it because I understand it's part of life. However, they are now threatening to take the kids away if I marry him. My husband's friend and I have never crossed any boundaries. He is a gentleman, and despite the many times he stayed over at the house, he never did anything inappropriate. Over the years, we have become very close. None of us planned it, but we have spent so much time together that we can't stay apart.

My husband's friend, let’s call him abeiku, and my husband were like brothers. They grew up together, went to the same schools, and shared countless memories. They were inseparable, and my husband always said abeiku was the brother he never had. When we got married, abeiku was the obvious choice for best man, and he delivered an unforgettable speech at our wedding. He was deeply affected by my husband’s death, and in many ways, he felt a responsibility to look after us in his absence.

We spoke about our feelings, and he wants to marry me. He doesn't see the need to wait since he has known me for several years, even before I married my late husband. This friend has an adult son who was born from a fling he had in his youth. He has never been married because he has been very work-oriented all these years.

I personally have made my decision, but people around me are making me have second thoughts, so I want to see what all of you think. I love this man. He has been there for me during the most painful moments of my life. To this day, he has never tried to have s*x with me. He is just like that friend who is always there. Both of us need the companionship. But my friends and my sisters are opposing it. Additionally, my late husband's family is threatening to take the kids if I go through with the marriage.

Please be as blunt as you can. Are we committing a crime if we marry? I haven't officially dated any man since I lost my husband in 2019.

11/07/2024

It was a typical Wednesday evening, and I was unwinding from a long day of work. My wife, Charity, was in the kitchen preparing dinner, humming softly to herself as she often did. We had been married for seven years, and our relationship had always seemed solid. We trusted each other, or so I believed.

Earlier that week, my friend Kwaku had pulled me aside after our usual basketball game. He had a concerned look on his face, which was unusual for him.

"Hey, I need to talk to you about something," Kwaku said, lowering his voice. "I saw someone who looks exactly like Charity on a dating app."

I laughed it off at first. "You must be mistaken. Charity wouldn't do that."

"I'm serious, man. I even matched with her profile out of curiosity. The pictures are definitely her," Kwaku insisted.

That night, unable to shake the feeling of unease, I downloaded the app and created a fake profile. My heart pounded as I searched through the profiles, and sure enough, I found her. There was Charity, using a different name but the same photos. I felt a wave of emotions crash over me – confusion, anger, and betrayal.

I sent her a message, pretending to be someone else, and waited anxiously for a response. To my dismay, she replied almost immediately. We chatted for a while, and she seemed so different – flirty, carefree, and open. She mentioned that she was single and looking for fun, which shattered any hope I had that this was some kind of mistake.

Desperate for confirmation and feeling a sick sense of curiosity, I took things further. I asked if she would send me some explicit pictures. When she agreed and the photos came through, I was stunned. There was no denying it now. It was Charity.

The next few days were torture. I watched Charity closely, noticing little things I hadn't seen before – the secretive texts, the sudden need to stay late at work, and the mysterious phone calls. My mind was a storm of emotions, and I felt a deep sense of betrayal. Each night, as she slept beside me, I felt a chasm growing between us.

Complicating everything was the fact that Charity was two months pregnant. We had been overjoyed when we found out, and I had been doting on her ever since. But now, doubt gnawed at me – was the baby even mine?

I couldn't bring myself to confront her directly, not yet. I needed more evidence, more certainty. That's when I decided to enlist the help of Kwaku again.

Kwaku agreed to arrange a meetup with Charity through the app. We crafted a message together, tailored to catch her attention. Sure enough, she responded eagerly, and they set a date to meet at a local café. Kwaku would go in, and I would follow discreetly to gather the evidence I needed.

The day of the meetup arrived, and my nerves were shot. I followed Kwaku to the café and found a good spot where I could watch without being seen. Charity arrived a few minutes later, looking around nervously before spotting Kwaku. She approached him with a smile, and they sat down together.

As they chatted, I took photos and recorded their conversation from a distance. My heart ached watching her laugh and flirt with my friend, but I needed to know the truth. After about twenty minutes, I decided I had seen enough. I retreated to my car, feeling utterly devastated.

That evening, as I sat alone in my car, my mind raced with what to do next. Confronting Charity seemed inevitable, but the thought of the conversation filled me with dread. Should I wait for the right moment? Should I gather even more evidence? Should I talk to a therapist or a counselor first to figure out how to approach this?

The weight of the situation felt unbearable. I drove around aimlessly, trying to clear my head. When I finally returned home, Charity was already asleep. I stood by our bedroom door, watching her for a long time, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and confusion. The sight of her pregnant belly only deepened my turmoil.

I knew I had to make a decision soon, but for now, I needed more time to process everything. Confronting her would change our lives forever, and I wanted to be sure I was prepared for whatever came next. I decided to reach out to a therapist the next day to seek advice on how to handle this revelation.

In the meantime, I continued to observe Charity closely, looking for any signs or clues that might help me understand her actions. Each day felt like a painful test of my patience and resolve, but I knew that whatever happened next, I needed to approach it with clarity and strength.

Im shattered, Im confused.

06/07/2024

* I BELIEVE SHE IS CHEATING*
------------------------------------------------------------
I'm a man in my 40s, married for over 13 years, and we have three kids. At the December crossover last year, I made a heartfelt promise to God to overcome my flaws and stop cheating. True to my word, I’ve stayed faithful this year. However, my wife is making it incredibly difficult. She hasn’t been in the mood for over two months, and she doesn’t want me to touch her, so I resort to ma********on occasionally when the urge becomes too strong.

It feels like things get worse every year, and there’s no happiness left in our marriage. She stopped doing house chores, so I hired help to avoid more conflicts. Because of her behavior, I almost went back to Tinder to find a hookup, but I deleted the app. The year is ending, and temptations are everywhere. The last time I cheated was with a woman I met at a Christmas program.

I’ve told my wife that her refusal to have s*x with me is pushing me away. Her response? She doesn’t care what I do with my life. I’ve tried everything – buying her gifts for her birthday, asking if I’ve done something to make her hate me, even booking a weekend trip to Dodi last year. She refused to go, and there was no refund, so I ended up going with a male colleague. Ironically, that trip led to another affair.

We’ve tried marriage counseling, but nothing seems to change. I’m left wondering if she hates me, is cheating herself, or has simply lost interest in s*x. The last time we were intimate, she wasn’t into it at all and told me to just hurry up and finish. This isn’t the woman I married. Now, if I touch her in bed, she goes stiff as if I disgust her.

I can’t talk to anyone about this, which is why I’m sharing my story anonymously here. I need solutions. I hate cheating, but I’m struggling. I don’t want to divorce because of the children, but I don’t know what else to do. Please help.

--------------
*Kindly share your stories to [email protected] or our whatsapp number on the page*

02/07/2024

*FINDING STRENGTH IN THE SHADOWS*
----------------------------------------------------------------
It was a warm summer evening, and I was walking home from a friend's party, enjoying the gentle breeze against my skin. The streets were quiet, the city sounds muted under the starry sky. I had always felt safe in my neighborhood, a sense of comfort in the familiar paths I had walked countless times before.
I turned a corner, I noticed someone following me. I quickened my pace, my heart beginning to race. The footsteps behind me grew louder, matching my speed. Panic started to set in, but I told myself not to overreact. Maybe it was just a coincidence.
I was wrong.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm, pulling me into a dark alley. I tried to scream, but a rough hand covered my mouth, silencing my cries. My body froze in terror as I struggled to break free, but my assailant was too strong. The world around me blurred, my senses overwhelmed by fear and desperation.

The next few moments were a nightmare. I felt powerless, trapped in a horror I couldn’t escape. The pain was excruciating, both physical and emotional, as I realized what was happening to me. I tried to fight, to push him away, but my strength was no match for his brutality. The violation left me feeling shattered, my spirit crushed under the weight of his cruelty.

When it was over, he left me there, broken and alone. I lay on the cold ground, my body trembling, tears streaming down my face. I felt dirty, ashamed, and utterly defeated. Slowly, I gathered the strength to stand, every movement painful and deliberate. I made my way home, each step a painful reminder of what I had endured.
Once inside, I collapsed on the bathroom floor, sobbing uncontrollably. The shower did little to wash away the feeling of violation that clung to me. I felt isolated, as if the world had shifted and I no longer belonged in it. The fear and shame were overwhelming, suffocating me.

The next few days were a blur. I couldn’t bring myself to leave the house, afraid of encountering my attacker again. I avoided friends and family, unable to face their questions or sympathy. The thought of reporting the assault terrified me; I didn’t want to relive the nightmare or be scrutinized by strangers.
Eventually, I confided in my best friend, Sarah. She listened without judgment, her support a lifeline in my darkest moments. With her encouragement, I found the courage to report the assault to the police. It was a difficult process, filled with invasive questions and painful memories, but I knew it was necessary to seek justice.
I also started seeing a therapist, someone who could help me navigate the trauma and begin the healing process. It wasn’t easy, and there were days when the weight of my experience felt too heavy to bear. But gradually, I learned to reclaim my life, piece by piece.

My journey to recovery was long and fraught with setbacks. There were moments of anger, despair, and fear, but also moments of strength, resilience, and hope. I joined a support group for survivors, finding solace in the shared stories and collective strength of those who had endured similar horrors.

Today, I still carry the scars of that night, but I refuse to let them define me. I am more than what happened to me; I am a survivor, a fighter. I have learned to find strength in the shadows, to rise above the darkness that once threatened to consume me.
And while I can never forget that traumatic experience, I have found a way to move forward, to live my life with courage and determination. My story is one of survival, of finding light in the darkest of places, and of reclaiming my sense of self and dignity.

*Kindly share your stories to [email protected] or our whatsapp number on the page*

BomeNkommo

18/06/2025

01/10/2024

13/09/2024

12/09/2024

02/09/2024

12/08/2024

23/07/2024

17/07/2024

13/07/2024

11/07/2024

06/07/2024

02/07/2024

Address

Telephone

Website

Alerts

Contact The Business

Shortcuts

Share

Category