Naedu Magaya

02/06/2025

❤️❤️❤️❤️

31/05/2025

Nice job 👍

21/05/2025

So therapeutic 😍

08/05/2025

Abeg hustle o, so when
your pikin vex,
He go fit run upstairs...
Haha🤦

06/05/2025

😂😂😍😍

29/04/2025

WELCOME BACK 😍

22/04/2025

😊😊😊

—DAILY MEALS DECISION CHALLENGE—

——IS YOUR HUSBBY/BOYFRIEND PICKY—

❤️LETS HAVE AN INTERACTIVE SECTION🫶

The daily task of deciding what to cook can be a daunting challenge for anyone, but it takes on a unique complexity when you're a married woman with a husband like Nna, an Enugu man with a picky palate but an unwavering love for homemade meals. Navigating this culinary tightrope is a balancing act that demands creativity, patience, and a dash of humor.

First, there's the challenge of understanding Nna's food preferences. As a man from Enugu State, he likely cherishes traditional dishes like *nsala soup*, *onugbu soup* (bitter leaf soup), *ukwa* (breadfruit), and *ugba* (oil bean salad). However, being picky means he may have strict expectations about how these meals should taste, be presented, or even when they should be served. It's not just about cooking the dishes he loves; it's about cooking them *perfectly* with the right blend of spices, the correct texture of pounded yam, and the authentic touch that reminds him of home.

Then there's the task of keeping the menu varied. Even with a repertoire of traditional dishes, repeating the same meals too often could lead to complaints or boredom. At the same time, introducing new meals, perhaps less traditional ones can be a gamble, as there's no guarantee they'll pass Nna's picky taste test. This leaves you in a constant state of culinary experimentation, carefully balancing the familiar with the adventurous.

The struggle also lies in the time and effort required for homemade meals. Many traditional Enugu dishes are labor intensive, requiring hours of preparation from washing bitter leaves to grinding spices or boiling beans for *ukwa*. As a married woman likely juggling other responsibilities, finding the time and energy to meet these expectations every day can feel overwhelming. Yet, the satisfaction of seeing Nna enjoy a home-cooked meal makes the effort worthwhile, even if it's exhausting.

Lastly, there's the emotional aspect feeling the weight of wanting to please your husband while also grappling with the frustration of the never-ending "what to cook" dilemma. It's a tug of war between love, duty, and the human need for self care.

But through these struggles, there's also strength. You become a culinary artist, a problem solver, and a bearer of cultural heritage. Each meal prepared with love is a testament to your commitment, and every compliment from Nna is a reward that fuels my determination to keep going.

Does this resonate? I’d love to hear your own challenges in coming up with meals to make for your family? or suggestions you’d like me to weave in further.😍

20/04/2025

😍😍😍😍

19/04/2025

😂😂😂

🔞_____I BETRAYED HIS WIFE____🔞
💁‍♀️WHAT WOULD YOU DO, IF IT WAS YOU?

It was supposed to be a regular day at the shop, sorting out orders, making deliveries, and ensuring my clients were happy. But then a familiar married man walked in, one I’d dealt with before. He handed me a slip with an address and said, “Please deliver this wig to someone special.” At first, it seemed harmless until I realized the recipient was not his wife, whom I knew well. It was his side chick.

I hesitated, but I figured my job wasn’t to judge, it was to deliver wigs. So, I took the package and headed out. I tried to shake off the discomfort as I drove, but something felt off. Little did I know that drama was about to unfold in the most spectacular way.

When I arrived at the address, I was greeted by the side chick, all smiles and excitement. Just as I handed her the wig, his wife appeared, out of nowhere. She had tracked them down, and her presence was anything but calm. Her fury was palpable, and she wasted no time confronting her husband and his mistress. The arguments flew, words were exchanged, and I felt like I was standing in the middle of a battlefield I hadn’t signed up for.

Then, she turned to me, anger blazing in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” she demanded. I froze, struggling to explain. “I didn’t think it was my place,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. But my attempt at justification only seemed to fuel her rage. She felt betrayed, not just by her husband but by my silence.

Caught in the crossfire, I realized there were no winners in situations like these. I had only meant to do my job, but now I was tangled in a web of deceit and heartbreak. As the shouting escalated, I quietly backed away, letting them sort out their mess. But even as I left, her words stayed with me, leaving a weight of guilt and unease I couldn’t shake. Sometimes, silence feels safer, but at what cost?

18/04/2025

Wife with value 👈😊

————I’M NOT JUST A WIFE ————
🌹 YOU WILL LOVE TO READ THIS ONE 🌹

Every morning, before the sun painted the Abuja sky in hues of orange and pink, I was already in motion. I prepared a hearty breakfast for Nna, his favorite oatmeal spiced just right, knowing it gave him the energy to face the day ahead. we would sit together, savoring the meal, as i casually dropped my thoughts about investments i had read about. “Nna, I came across this exciting project in Jabi. It looks promising, low risk, and the returns could be solid,” i said with my signature mix of practicality and optimism. Nna nodded thoughtfully, knowing my keen eye for opportunity had steered us right before.

After breakfast, i turned my attention to my salon, a bustling sanctuary i had built from scratch. I managed my team with care, ensuring each client left with a smile, while keeping a watchful eye on my accounts😂. I knew that maintaining my business’s financial stability was key to my dreams. I reinvested smartly, planned promotions meticulously, and even set aside funds for emergencies.

By the time i returned home, Nna would find me humming a tune as i cleaned the living room, 😩 my hands moving with the same precision i applied to every aspect of my life. 🙂‍↔️Dinner was always a labor of love, I believed that a well fed husband is a happy one. That evening, I served steaming jollof rice with grilled chicken, and as we ate, we talked about our goals, days, and shared future.

Nna often wondered how i managed to do it all, to run a thriving business, guide him with his investments, and still create a home so full of warmth. For me, it wasn’t about perfection; it was about love. Everything i did, from the meals i cooked to the financial advice i gave, was my way of nurturing our partnership and building a life rooted in mutual respect and unshakable support.

And in those quiet moments, when Nna would pull me close and whisper, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” I would smile😂, knowing that our love was built on the foundation of teamwork, trust, and a commitment to each other’s success.🥀🌻💐🌹 .

16/04/2025

Part 2

“ I MISSED MY FLIGHT 2 TIMES”

— READ MY STORY-

The morning of April 8, 2025, arrived heavy with grief and responsibility for Bethel. It was the day she had to lay her father to rest, a man who had been her rock, her teacher, and her greatest cheerleader. The quiet streets of
( Isi-izo neke) seemed to echo her sadness as she prepared herself to face the reality of saying goodbye.

The burial ceremony was solemn, marked by hymns, tears, and poignant memories shared by friends and family. Bethel tried to hold herself together, but her emotions were a storm swirling just beneath the surface. Each word spoken about her father reminded her of the void he left behind. Still, she steeled herself to make sure everything went smoothly, a tribute worthy of the man who had given her so much.

As the day wore on, the reception brought a different kind of chaos. Relatives streamed in with expectations, comments, and the occasional clash of opinions. Bethel felt like she was managing an orchestra of conflicting demands while grappling with her own overwhelming sorrow. She barely had time to breathe, much less process the reality that her father was gone.

Amid the whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities, Bethel was also facing a logistical nightmare. She had booked an Air Peace flight from Enugu to Abuja that evening, hoping to shift gears and focus on urgent work awaiting her in the capital. Yet, in the chaos of the burial preparations, she missed an important email, a rescheduling notice from the airline.

The realization hit her as she checked her inbox during a brief moment of calm. Her flight had been moved to an earlier time. Panic set in as she scrambled to leave for the airport, her grief now compounded by the stress of missing her departure. Upon arriving, she was informed that the rescheduled flight had already left, leaving her stranded. She felt the sting of helplessness, a moment that seemed to encapsulate everything she was feeling that day.

Determined not to let the setback defeat her, Bethel rebooked a later flight. But her troubles weren’t over. A second email from the airline informed her that this flight, too, had been rescheduled. She missed it again, her heart sinking further into the abyss of stress and frustration. All she wanted was a moment of quiet, a chance to step away from the whirlwind of emotions and obligations—but life seemed determined to keep her on edge.

By the time Bethel finally sorted out her travel plans, night had fallen. She sat alone in the airport waiting area, the weight of the day pressing down on her. Tears welled up as she thought about her father, the man who had always been there to offer wisdom when life became too overwhelming. She wished she could call him, hear his calming voice, and be reminded that everything would be okay.

As she boarded a flight at last, Bethel resolved to take things one step at a time. The day had tested her limits, but she reminded herself that she was still standing,still moving forward. Though her father's physical presence was gone, his lessons and love remained, giving her the strength to face whatever came next. She whispered to herself, “I’ll get through this,” and as the plane lifted off, Bethel allowed herself a fleeting moment of hope.