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PETER PERRY, Abuja (2026)

06/09/2025

Dear Son, Weak Men Create the Strongest Regrets

Son, let me confess something to you.
Most of the pain I’ve seen in my lifetime did not come from evil men.
It came from weak men.

Weak men who couldn’t say no.
Weak men who stayed silent when they should have spoken.
Weak men who chose comfort over courage, and excuses over discipline.

And when the dust settled, they didn’t just regret the moment.
They regretted their entire lives.

I’ve seen weak men lose their families because they couldn’t confront a disrespectful wife.
I’ve seen weak men lose their children because they couldn’t fight a crooked system.
I’ve seen weak men drink themselves into graves because they didn’t have the strength to face their fears.

Son, weakness is not harmless.
It destroys everything it touches.
And its scars don’t fade with time — they grow louder in regret.

Strong men make mistakes.
Weak men live in them.

A strong man may fall, but he learns.
A weak man falls, and then pretends he never could have stood.

A strong man admits his failures.
A weak man hides them until they bury him alive.

And when the years pass, weak men look back and realize they didn’t just waste their time.
They wasted their legacy.

Son, let me be clear:
A weak man cannot protect his children.
A weak man cannot guard his name.
A weak man cannot lead his home.

He will bend to pressure.
He will bow to manipulation.
He will surrender to fear.

And one day, when he sees the wreckage of what he allowed —
he will cry the loudest tears of all.

Because there is no regret heavier than knowing you had the power to stand,
but you chose to fall.

So build strength while you are young.
Not just in your body, but in your mind.
In your discipline.
In your faith.
In your choices.

Because weakness is a habit.
And the longer you feed it, the harder it is to kill.

Never forget this, son:
The world is full of men who regret not fighting, not leading, not protecting, not speaking.
Their regrets are louder than any pain a strong man ever endured.

Weak men create the strongest regrets.
Don’t be one of them.

21/08/2025

Cheating starts with a friend request.

It begins with emotional connections online.

It starts with that first like on her picture.

It grows with those "innocent" comments.

It develops through private messages.

It escalates with personal conversations.

Those likes and DMs are the gateway.

They open doors that should stay closed.

They create connections that shouldn't exist.

They build relationships outside your relationship.

What starts as harmless flirting becomes emotional affairs.

What begins as friendly conversation becomes intimate bonding.

What seems like innocent interaction becomes betrayal.

You don't wake up one day and physically cheat.

You slowly build a bridge to another person.

You gradually develop feelings for someone else.

You progressively invest emotional energy elsewhere.

Micro-cheating is still cheating.

Emotional affairs are still affairs.

Online relationships are still relationships.

Digital betrayal is still betrayal.

Stop acting like it doesn't count because it's not physical.

Stop pretending virtual connections aren't real.

Stop minimizing emotional infidelity.

Every text is a step away from your relationship.

Every conversation is a brick in the wall between you and her.

Protect your relationship from the first friend request.

14/08/2025

*I Was Just Hungry*

*— A Cry from The Traps Of Life 😥*

Yesterday, here on Facebook, a brother shared this heartbreaking image of a little mouse caught in a trap.

Its tiny eyes were swollen with tears.

Its paw was crushed. Blood stained the wooden floor beneath it. Yet, what caught my heart wasn’t the pain or the blood—but the words written beside it:

"I’m not a dangerous animal and I won’t hurt you. I was just hungry." 😥😥

It took me back—way back to my early years in Alagbado , Lagos State.

There was a young boy in our compound named Chima. He was always dirty, always sneaking into kitchens when no one was looking.

At least once a week, someone would shout, “That Chima don carry my garri again oh!”

I remember how we mocked him. Called him “thief.”

Some adults would beat him up. One woman even tied him to a tree once, under the hot sun, for taking a piece of fried fish.

But what we didn’t know—what we never even asked—was that Chima was just hungry.

His mother had died when he was six. His father, a drunk, barely returned home with enough money to buy a sachet of pure water. Most nights, Chima and his younger sister slept on empty stomachs.

So, he learned to steal to survive. He learned to beg, to sneak, to be smart.

And while the world saw a thief, what he truly was… was a boy in pain.

Now, years later, I see this mouse crying in a trap and I see Chima’s face.

I see the countless boys and girls in our streets.

I see the bus conductors who shout angrily—not because they enjoy it, but because life has never been kind.

I see the prostitutes in Allen Avenue , the young cult boys in Agege,

The jobless graduates walking the streets of Lagos and Abuja,

The countless prisoners in cells not because they’re wicked—but because they were just hungry.. 😥

Hunger isn’t always about food.

Some people are hungry for love.
Some are hungry for peace.
Some are hungry for hope.
Some are just hungry to be noticed—to be seen as human.

But what does society do?

We set traps.

We judge before asking questions.
We condemn before listening.
We punish without understanding.

And sadly, sometimes, even the Church—yes, the place meant for healing—becomes a trap too.. 😥

A brother falls into sin and we throw him out. A sister comes pregnant and we push her to the back. But have we ever stopped to ask: Why did she fall? What hunger was she trying to feed?

Beloved, this world is full of "mice"—innocent souls trapped not because they wanted to destroy anything, but because they were just trying to survive.

That boy who stole your phone may have lost both parents.

That girl in makeup and tight jeans may be the breadwinner of her family.

That man who sleeps under the bridge may once have been a promising young graduate—until life dealt him a bad card.

Let me ask you sincerely:

How many people have you judged lately without understanding their hunger?

How many "mice" have you set traps for in your heart—silently condemning them because their scars were too messy for your clean world?

The Bible says in Proverbs 21:13, “Whoso stoppeth his ears at the cry of the poor, he also shall cry himself, but shall not be heard.”

Every soul you ignore, every cry you silence, every pain you mock—you’re setting a trap for your own day of hunger.

My dear friend, life is deeper than appearances.

Sometimes, all a person needs is a listening ear, a plate of food, a kind word, or even just a smile.

Don’t be too quick to condemn.
Don’t let your heart become a trap.

Choose mercy. 👌
Choose kindness.🙌
Choose love.🎉

Do you know that, the small mouse in that image... Is....

That’s someone in your street today.
That’s a child in your church.
That’s your neighbour.
That could be you tomorrow.

Let this message touch your heart.

And if it does, don’t scroll away in silence.
Share it. Let the world know that not everyone who falls is evil. Some were just hungry.

12/08/2025

👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

*TIPS TO HELP YOU KEEP THE ONE YOU'RE DATING*

_Part one_

Do you truly care about the person you're dating currently and want to build a strong, lasting relationship with him or her?
Here are some tips that can help you maintain love, trust, and connection with your partner:

1. Give them plenty of attention. If you’re present and engaged, they won’t feel the need to seek connection elsewhere.

2. Listen actively when they speak. Avoid distractions like your phone or TV while they're talking—show them they matter.

3. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. It’s better to say *“I’m unable right now”* than to raise expectations and disappoint them.

4. Be generous in spirit and action. Don’t always say *“I don’t have”*—find thoughtful ways to show you care.

5. Show care beyond material things. Be present in times of sadness or difficulty; don’t abandon your partner during hard times.

6. Compliment them sincerely and regularly. Affirm their worth and appearance.

7. Say *“I love you”* often and genuinely.

8. Share laughter and light moments together—playfulness strengthens bonds.

9. Balance your behavior—don’t be too harsh or overly lenient. Correct with love and show affection consistently.

10. Respect and appreciate their family members.

_Stay turned for part two._

11/08/2025

Last year January our neighbour bought a car. My wife woke me from sleep nightly saying, "Is he not man like you? You must buy a car. " ..I was forced to buy a car... After about 5 months, the neighbour bought a plot. My wife disturbed me until I also bought one ... Like 2 months ago, the neighbour started building on his plot. As usual, my wife didn't give me peace until I also had to do the same.... Now, this 2025, our neighbour brought in a second wife....My wife is quiet🤷🏼‍♂️....🤔🤔 Please, I need help... Should I wait for the usual pressure, or should I just take action??

09/08/2025

I asked my husband to give me some money to make my hair but he told me he didn't have much on him, so he gave me just #2,500. I was so ángry with him. We have been married for a year and each time I asked him for money, he would always give me an amount that would not be sufficient for what I needed it for.

I had not gotten a job since I relocated to his place after the wedding, so I wasn't financially buoyant. I only lived on the stipends my husband gave me monthly which wasn't even enough to cater for my personal needs. As at that time, I was already six months pregnant.

"What will I do with #2,500? I told you I want to braid my hair. The attachment alone is 6k. My hairdresser will collect at least 4,500 to make the hair. What will I do with this money?" I asked angrily.

"Babe, you should understand how much I'm struggling to take care of expenses in this house. The money I spent on our wedding ceremony has really affected me because I exhausted all my savings. The fact that I'm still able to put down money in this house is because of the soft loan I get from work every month. I've told you about this before. Please, bear with me. It's just a season in time. We will soon get over it." My husband pleaded.

"Bear with me! Bear with me! This is what you say all the time! What kind of hair will I make with 2,500?" I hissed angrily and walked out of the house.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon. I went straight to my hairdresser's shop but unfortunately, she was not around. Her shop was locked. I was disappointed.

"Where on earth did this one go to on a weekend like this?" I wondered.

I didn't want to go back home without making my hair, so I decided to try the other hairdresser who was on the third street to my house. I have never made my hair there but I once heard my neighbour mention that she was good at making nice styles... I just wanted to avoid going back home to my husband because I was still very ångry with him.

I got to the salon and thankfully, only one customer was on seat. She was almost done making her hair. I greeted the hairdresser and she offered me a seat.

"Mama Ibeji (a name pregnant women are usually called), will you like to have some water? The sun is hot." The hairdresser offered.

"No... I'm fine, thank you." I declined politely.

The lady making her hair came with a friend. They both continued gisting as the hairdresser continued with the lady's hair.

Few minutes later, I heard the lady who came with her friend say,

"Hey, Salome, see the guy I've been talking about. He's the one driving that car."

The lady making her hair quickly turned her neck to peep through the door and I followed her gaze to see the person being talked about. I was surprised to see my husband, driving slowly past the shop. He slowed down the vehicle as he approached the bump that was across the road.

"That is the guy..." The lady continued. "There is nothing I have not done to attract his attention but he would not even give me a second of his time. Every evening, he visits his friend's shop and they would gist till he would later go home. Since the day I met him there, I've been coming to that man's shop every evening just to make friends with this guy but he never gave me the attention I desire. He would just greet me and carry his face. His friend told me he's married and I'm like, so what? Does that mean he shouldn't make friends with other ladies? Sincerely, I envy his wife. His attitude made me believe that there are still married men who are still faithful to their wives." The lady concluded.

I was shocked... Shocked was an understatement. The guy being talked about was my husband. My lawfully wedded husband! I blinked my eyes severally... I continued to listen to their conversation. The other lady making her hair replied,

"I think his wife gives him peace of mind at home. That is one thing that could make the man so focused on his wife... I mean, what other reason would have made him ignore a beautiful lady like you?"

"I agree with you." The hairdresser spoke for the first time since the conversation started.

None of these ladies knew that the man who just drove past was my husband. I couldn't speak. I watched them argue about whether his wife gives him good s3x, good food or peace of mind at home... They were arguing about me and they didn't know!

I questioned myself if truly I gave my husband any of these three things and if I would be sincere with myself, I wouldn't score up to 50% in each because I knew I could nag! If there's an award for nagging, I should get one. I don't make nice delicacies for my husband either and talking about our s3xual life, it has been epileptic since I got pregnant.

"There are still faithful men, sincerely." The hairdresser's voice cut into my thoughts.

"I wish that guy is mine!" The other lady who wasn't making her hair exhaled.

"God forbid!" I said spontaneously.

They all turned their eyes to my direction.

"What's that?" The lady asked.

"Oh no... I just got a message from someone. I didn't know I was so loud." I l¡ed.

I was sweating where I sat. Before I got to the hairdresser's shop, my husband had called me twice but I refused to pick up because I was still ångry. I picked my phone instantly and dialled his number,

"Babe, I did not see you at your usual salon. Where are you making your hair? I've been calling you, but you didn't pick up." My husband asked as soon as he picked my call.

I gave him the description of the salon where I was.

"Okay. I'm coming there right away." He replied.

In less than three minutes, my husband arrived. He parked his car and entered the salon. The lady who was crushing on my husband was excited to see him.

"The guy is coming here!" She whispered excitedly.

I watched as she set her seductive eyes on my husband. As he opened the transparent glass door, I walked up to him and he gave me a hug. The ladies were shocked, likewise the hairdresser. They could not look at me in the eye. The fumbled with their phones as my husband planted a kiss on my forehead.

There was a perfect silence as my husband and I chatted on.

Soon, the lady got through with her hair and they left the salon shamefully... My husband was the only one that didn't know what was happening.

"Madam, which hairstyle are you making?" The hairdresser asked me, trying to use a fake smile to cover up what just happened.

"I'm okay with a simple cornrows style, please." I replied.

In less than an hour, I was done. I paid the hairdresser and I asked my husband to take me to the neighbourhood market. I added some money to the balance from the money my husband gave me for the hair and I got some pepper soup ingredients with goat meat.

We went back home and I made a nice delicacy for my husband who was surprised at my sudden change of action. He had earlier come to the salon to keep my company and appease my ånger. He was marvelled to see me loving up on him and making him some pepper soup.

In the night, I gave him the best bedroom treat he hadn't accessed from me in a long time. He was so happy that he bought me a fashionable bag and a pair of shoes the following day.

"Where did you get the money to buy these?" I asked him happily.

"I don't mind taking more soft loans at work to make you happy. Last night was a memorable one!" He smiled brightly as I tried the shoes on.

Since that day, I never took my husband for granted again. I stopped nagging around the house and I was contented with whatever amount he gave me to cook or do other things.

I don learn my lesson, biko. The husband I felt was not doing enough was another person's prayer point. 😦😮

He is the perfect man I ever wanted from God. He is my imperfect perfection. 🥰🥰

I hope you learnt something from my story. Value what you have, some don't have it!

Thank you for reading.
free to share

07/08/2025

ONE SIP. ONE NIGHT. ONE SECRET THAT DESTROYED EVERYTHING.

Wetin concern me concern party? I no even sabi the people wey invite me. But you see that my friend Bella? She too dey do pass herself. Na she drag me go that yeye birthday wey sp0il my life…

My name is Tina, and if you’re reading this… just know: never let peer pressure pick your life decisions. Because your life go pressure you back with tears.

Let me start from the beginning.

I was just 16.
A quiet, decent, reserved girl.
My mother had already warned me:

"You see all those Bella and Ada, avoid them like SARS. Na bad influence dem be.”

But noooo, me I get coconut head.

Bella was my bestie. We met in school when she borrowed my pencil in JSS1 and never returned it. That’s how the friendship started...with deceit.

Fast-forward to SS2. We were still friends. But Bella had changed. Big time.

Fake lashes.
Crop tops.
Snapchat filters.
New slang every week.
And “talking stage” with like four boys at once.

Meanwhile me, I was still tying scarf and doing “praise and worship” in morning assembly.

One day, Bella burst into class:

“Tina! My plug’s guy’s cousin dey do birthday for mainland this Friday. Invitation strictly coded ooo! Let’s go joor, wear that your yellow top wey show your small cleavage...make boys see say you don dey ripe small!”

I refused at first. But she kept pressing me.

“You no wan flex small? Abeg rest. This life no get duplicate. Just small birthday, we go come back quick. Or you wan dey dull forever?”

Peer pressure pressed me like bra.

I agreed.

We got there, and omo!
The house was like inside Netflix movie.
LED lights, drinks, loud music, fine boys with beards looking like they came from Lekki directly.

Bella vanished within minutes with some guy wearing chain like transformer.

Me? I just stood by the wall like side mirror.

That’s when this guy offered me a red cup.

“Relax na… just one sip. It won’t kíll you. It’s not even strong.”

I hesitated.

“No be alcohol?”

“It’s mix na… small Zobo, small Sprite, small spirit. Just vibes.”

Zobo, Sprite and spirit?
I should’ve known it was the dévil’s cocktail.

I took one sip.

BLANK.

Next thing, I woke up in a stranger’s room.
My bra was on the floor. My jeans were halfway off.
And my head felt like generator wey no get oil.

Tears rolled down my eyes.

On the table, I saw a note:

“Sorry. You were too fine. I couldn’t resist. Forgive me.”

No name. No number. No face.

Just a hangover, bruises, and shame.

MONDAY MORNING

I walked into school and felt every eye on me.

Whispers everywhere.

“Na she wey drunk pass…”
“Dem say she climb table dey dance…”
“I hear say she even nack one guy inside toilet…”

My whole body diéd.

When I asked Bella what happened, she laughed:

“My dear, na normal. You no sabi flex. You too stiff. Loosen up small, enjoy your life!”

Enjoy ke?
When I just became a victim of ràpé and bétrayal?

WEEKS LATER

My period went on break like ASUU.

I thought it was stress.
Or spiritual attack.
I started praying: “Blood of Jesus, flow now!”

But the bl0od refused to flow. Instead, I kept vomiting.

I bought a strip.

Two lines.
Not one.

TWO.

I screamed.
I cried.
I fàinted.

I was pregnant.

Bella told people before I even got home.

In school, I was now “Mama baby”.

Some girls laughed.
Some teachers pitied me.

But one person shocked me the most...my own boyfriend (yes, I had small crush on one boy like that, Femi).

He came to me and shouted:

“You this girl! You sleep around and now you wan dump baby on me?? I never even hold your hand before, and you wan rope me? Nonsense!”

Femi dúmped me in public. Like dustbin.

Heartbreak joined pregnancy.

Telling my mother was the final bomb.

I tried to explain, but before I could say anything...

GBOSAAA!!!

She gave me one slap that reset my Bluetooth.

“Pregnant??? Tina! I said don’t follow Bella! Don’t follow Ada! You followed them and see where you landed. Inside fornication and disgrace!”

That night, my mother didn’t sleep.

She sat outside the compound crying:

“God, is this how you’ll reward my fasting and prayers? Why didn’t you just take me instead?”

I almost swallowed rat poison.

BUT GUESS WHAT?

One small twist.

That party?
Someone secretly recorded everything.
And the clip started circulating online.

Guess who was in the video?

The birthday boy...a university student of 24 years old...and several of his friends… dragging girls into the back room.

It became a police case.

Bella disappeared.

The guy who ràpéd me got arrested.

I became the face of an NGO campaign about teenage pregnancy, date ràpé, and peer pressure.

I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy.
Named him “Nathaniel” ...Gift from God.

I returned to school. Wrote WAEC with my baby strapped on my back.

Today, I’m a 300-level medical student.
My story? My weapon.

Say NO when you feel pressured. It’s okay to stand alone.
One sip can ruin your entire destiny.
Trust your instincts. Not every “vibe” is safe.
Pregnancy is not the end. Your life is not over.
Some friends are agents of destruction in makeup and wigs.

If you have a daughter, niece, or teenage girl...share this story.
Let them know the truth.
Let them read the pain before they drink it.
Let them see the scars before they enter the fire.
Because one party can destroy a destiny

03/08/2025

Mom always told us,
“Smile at your Dad when he comes home, because the outside world is cruel and tiring for dads.”

What is the Difference Between a Mother and a Father?

A mother carries you in her womb for 9 months.
A father carries you on his shoulders for his entire life, even if you don’t notice it.

A mother makes sure you are full with food and care.
A father teaches you how to be prepared and strong so that you don’t go hungry, although it may take you a long time to understand.

A mother breastfeeds and nurtures you from her breast.
A father carries you on his back, even if you don’t always see it.

A mother’s love is felt by you immediately from the day you are born.

A father’s love is understood better when you become a father yourself, so wait with patience and understanding.

A mother is priceless, and a father cannot be replaced even by time.
*****
Mothers and fathers are both important and have their own unique way of showing love. Their love brings strength and hope to our lives…❤️

Love and Respect your both Parents.❤️

03/08/2025

Happy anniversary beautiful people Jennyslimzy and ugo eaglet I love this family ehn

29/07/2025

🔥 MODERN WOMEN WANT HUSBANDS—BUT REFUSE TO BE WIVES

Let’s get one thing straight:

Modern women don’t hate marriage. They just hate everything it requires of them.

They want husbands— But they reject the role of a wife.

Let’s break it down, no sugarcoating 👇

1️⃣ THEY WANT THE TITLE, NOT THE TRANSFORMATION

They want the ring.
The Instagram announcement.
The bridal shower.
The baby bump content.

But submission?
Respect?
Service?
Duty?
Now that’s “misogyny.”
They want to receive like wives—
While acting like free agents.

2️⃣ THEY WERE TOLD TO BE FREE—NOW THEY’RE EMPTY

Their mentors told them:
“Sleep with whoever you want.”
“Test every flavor.”
“Don’t settle until he worships the ground you walk on.”
And they did.

They ran the streets.
“Collected experiences.”
Turned their 20s into a highlight reel of chaos.
And now in their 30s?
They want a “real man” to come sweep it all under the rug.

3️⃣ THEY WANT MASCULINE MEN—BUT DEMAND FEMININE POWER

They want a man who leads, provides, protects.
But they also want to be the boss.
Make the rules.
Set the tone.
Keep options.

So here’s the problem:
You can’t be the crown and the king.
You can’t say, “I don’t need a man”—
Then complain that men won’t step up.

4️⃣ THEY THINK MARRIAGE IS A REWARD—NOT A RESPONSIBILITY

Modern women think the man is lucky to have them.
But ask her what she brings to the table?
“Me.”
“My presence.”
“My vibes.”
“My peace.”
“My body.”
My God.

And they say it with a straight face.
She’s done zero emotional work.
No mentorship.
No sacrifice.
No spiritual grounding.
But she thinks she’s a wife just because she’s tired of dating.

5️⃣ THEY TRAINED FOR CHAOS—AND WANT PEACE TO CHASE THEM

After a decade of “healing,”
“Hot girl summers,”
And “letting the universe decide”...
They suddenly want a calm, present, emotionally available husband.

But here’s what they won’t tell you:
The men they were promised don’t want them.
And the ones who do?
Can’t lead, won’t provide, and crumble under pressure.

So they’re stuck.
The alpha won’t take them.
The simp can’t keep them.
And they don’t want to become what a husband actually needs.

6️⃣ THEY WANT THE MAN TO HEAL WHAT THEY BROKE

She says,
“I’m ready to be a wife now.”
But she’s not.
She’s just getting played.
Not done being chaotic.

She’s not looking for a partner—
She’s looking for a savior.
Someone to fix her poor choices,
Validate her baggage,
And treat her like the princess she refused to be when it mattered.

📌 FINAL TRUTH:
Modern women don’t want marriage.
They want a prize at the end of their rebellion.

But here’s the truth:
You can’t shame traditional men for expecting traditional values.
You can’t weaponize your past and expect a husband to carry it like a badge of honor.
And you can’t turn marriage into a finish line for your sexual prime,
Then demand a king to kneel at the foot of a throne you no longer deserve.

28/07/2025

So my wife gave birth recently and anytime I see her breástfeeding ada, the quest to join her to sûck was what had been reminiscing on my mind.

At night when we are sléeping, I kept looking for numerous ways to reach out my hands to her breàsts, but when I make an attempt to suck, she would adjust herself and switch position.

There was one night she càught me fôndling her brèasts, and was like;

"Ah ah Nick, what are you touching my breàsts for Maka Gini"

"Ahh, are you not my wife? Leave it Biko let me squèeze it the way I like. Didn't I pay for your bride price?"

"Abeg abeg, leave my breàsts for ada oo. The bride price you paid is not for my breàsts o abeg."

"Ahh let me just test this thing naa. Hope you know I'm the owner?

"You are not sèrious o" she adjusted herself and went back to sleep.

The next morning, I told her.
"I'm not going to work o, I must tèst it if not, no food for this house."

"Honey calm down ogini, you mean, your mother didn't breastfèed you when you were still a child?"

"That one has been long, I never even get sènse that time sef. When I was paying for your bride pricè you were smiling now let me come and collect what I've pàid for. I don't want any compláin. I'm waiting o"

"Oya come and test. But I'm bègging you in the name of God don't bîte my nîpples."

26/07/2025

MY CALABAR LANDLORD DAUGHTER 🤣🤣

Dem say na lie. Dem say no be all Calabar landlords dey do am. But my brother, na inside Calabar I chop breakfast with pepper soup and extra fork wey no belong to me.

Let me gist you how one simple “Good afternoon sir” turned me into an emergency husband, a community mechanic, and the headline for village meeting.

I just dey waka my own peacefully that year. I get new job for Calabar and hustle carry me go one compound for Atimbo side. Clean house, normal face-me-I-face-you, but the toilet no be face-me...I mean, dem tile am like hotel.

Na so I rent one room, minding my business.

But from the second week, wahala wear skirt.

The landlord, one short yellow man with tribal mark wey look like secret map, call me:

Young man, this your room fine well well o. You be responsible boy. Feel free oh! My daughter dey house, if you need anything... water, food, maybe help to wash shirt...you fit just call Blessing.

I laugh small.

I no suspect anything. I just say, “No wahala sir.”

But na from “No wahala” my destiny take jump motorbike.

Blessing, landlord pikin. 22. Yellow like Sunday rice with stew. Waist like say dem use music direct am. Always wearing wrapper and tank top like she dey cook soup, even if na 7 a.m.

The next day, she knock door.

Uncle good morning. Daddy say make I help you wash your white shirt wey you hang outside since. E go soon rain.

I shock. I never say anything oh. I just mumble “Thanks.”

Before I fit blink, she don carry bucket, soap, and kneel like laundry na her calling.

One night, I twist my ankle because NEPA take light and I jam stool. As I dey groan, landlord come with Blessing.

My pikin go help you rub balm small. No worry, she sabi small massage.

Before I say Jack, her warm hand don dey my leg… then my back… then my chest. Na that day I know say Calabar girls no dey play with direction.

1. She dey bring soup I no ask for.
2. She dey sleep off inside my room after movie.
3. She dey “mistakenly” wear towel pass my window like say breeze dey blow am.
4. Landlord go dey smile from one corner like father wey dey package bride price installmentally.

I wan run, but I no quick run.

Because... Blessing sabi everything.

Including that thing.

Yes. That thing.

Na so the matter begin dey hot like ogbono soup wey never don…

Three weeks after I move into that Calabar house, small peace I dey enjoy come turn to hot gbese! Every evening I return from work, na so Blessing go dey sweep in front of my door like say na church crusade ground.

One night, I come back late. Rain soak me finish, even my boxers don turn sponge. As I dey struggle with my wet bag, I hear knock:

Knock knock...

I open door.

Na Blessing!

She wear bumshort and her papa white singlet. No bra o! The thing dey point like two church ushers on duty. I no know if na cold or temptation.

She say,
Uncle, I see say you’re wet... should I help you hang your clothes inside?

I shock!

Before I talk "Jesus is Lord", she don enter my room with one peg rope.

I dey shiver. Not from cold o, but from that temptation wey dey vibrate like generator wey wan off. I just hold my wrapper tighter like village pastor.

She dey look me, I dey look fan.

She talk again,
Uncle, do you want hot water to bath?

I say, "No! I mean yes! I mean... wait... who sent you?"

She laugh,
My mummy say I should always help you because you’re like a son to her. Feel free with us o!

Feel free???

Na so dem dey feel free to enter wahala?

The next morning, her mama see me dey dodge Blessing like say she be SARS. She call me.

Ah-ah, Tega, this girl na small pikin o. She no get bad mind. You fit even send her to buy c0nd0m for you, she go go!

Ehn?!

Who go send 19-year-old girl to buy c0nd0m? I just nod head like say I hear, but inside my chest na heavy drum dey beat:

Boom boom boom... This people wan finish me!

That night again, my light bulb blow. I go ask for spare bulb from Mama Blessing. She no get.

Five minutes later, Blessing knock again with candle.

But this time, she enter with candle and Garri soak with groundnut and milk.

Uncle, I brought you light and food.

I say,
Are you a woman or a setup?

She laugh again.

I no lie, my body dey confuse me. My spirit dey shout,
Flee temptation!

But my eyes dey shout,
"Just stay small..."

Blessing papa travelled to the village for burial. Na only Mama Blessing, Blessing and me for compound.

That Saturday, as I dey relax for room, I hear light knock again.

I open door.

Na Blessing again... this time, in towel only!

She say,
"Uncle, the bathroom door lock me out. I forgot my clothes. Please help me borrow wrapper."

Wrapper?

I begin find wrapper like say na national treasure. But before I turn reach wardrobe, towel fall!

As I turn back, I see her standing...Nak3d. Full package. Front, back, everything.

I freeze like NEPA transformer.

She say,
"Uncle Tega... Are you okay?"

I say, NO!

I close my eyes.
I run go kitchen.
I pour cold water on my head.

Na there I realise: this girl no be small pikin again...na Calabar agenda on duty.

FAST FORWARD...TWO MONTHS LATER...

I dey chop rice with Mama Blessing one afternoon, she just drop bombshell:

Tega, Blessing likes you o. She say if you want to marry her, you’re free.

Wetin concern landlord daughter with me wey just wan pay rent?

I no know say that night wey towel fall, na her mama dey hide dey watch. Setup! Real Calabar Nollywood Season 12!

One night as I dey return from work, I see another guy...new tenant...fine boy, beards like James Brown wey get money.

Na so Mama Blessing tell am:

"Feel free with us o. If you need anything, call Blessing."

My eye clear!

I was never special. I was "tenant of the month".

Now I understand:
Na blessing for dem, na burden for us.

Months later, I hear say Blessing get belle.
But the father? Nobody sabi. New guy say no be him.
Dem dey look my side.

But I swear by Calabar pepper soup, I no touch her o!

Abi... make I go do DNA first?

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PETER PERRY

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