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Nikky oms, Lagos (2026)

23/08/2026

PART 2….

The next morning, I woke up with one thought in my mind.

The red towel.

I opened my bedroom door slowly.

And there it was.

Lying directly in front of my door.

The same red towel my father had tied around his waist the previous night.

I stared at it.

I didn’t touch it.

I didn’t even want to go near it.

Then I noticed something that made my stomach turn.

There was mud on the towel.

Fresh mud.

But my room was inside the main house.

How had it gotten there?

I quickly stepped over it and ran downstairs.

My father was already at the dining table, eating breakfast.

He looked at me.

Then his eyes moved to the empty space beside me.

“Where is the towel?”

My heart skipped.

“What towel?”

He stopped eating.

“The red towel.”

I stared at him.

“You know about it?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he calmly put down his spoon.

“Did you go to the shed last night?”

I remained silent.

My father looked at me for a long time.

Then he whispered,

“You shouldn’t have followed me.”

My hands became cold.

“So you knew I was there?”

He nodded.

“I saw your shadow through the window.”

I couldn’t believe it.

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

He looked away.

“Because I wanted to know if it was finally time.”

“Time for what?”

He didn’t answer.

I became angry.

“You bow before a statue every night, Daddy! You tie a red towel around yourself and whisper strange things. What am I supposed to think?”

My father’s eyes filled with tears.

For a moment, he looked less like my father and more like a frightened old man.

Then he said,

“That statue has been in this family longer than you know.”

“Who brought it here?”

“My father.”

“My grandfather?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

My father stood up and walked toward the window.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he whispered,

“Because your grandfather was dying.”

I frowned.

“Dying from what?”

“The doctors couldn’t explain it.”

He paused.

“His body was becoming weaker every day. He couldn’t walk. He couldn’t eat. He was losing his mind.”

“And the statue saved him?”

My father shook his head.

“No.”

He looked at me.

“Something saved him.”

I felt a chill.

“What something?”

My father refused to answer.

Instead, he walked to an old wooden cabinet and removed a dusty photograph.

He placed it in front of me.

It was a picture of my grandfather when he was young.

He was standing beside the same statue.

But there was something written on the back.

I turned it over.

My grandfather had written:

“I gave my word. My ß|00d|!ne will repay the debt.”

I looked at my father.

“What debt?”

He took the photograph from my hands.

“Some promises don’t end when the person who made them di£s.”

I suddenly remembered what I had heard the previous night.

“Please don’t take another one.”

I looked at him.

“Who did it take before?”

My father went completely silent.

“Daddy?”

His eyes became watery.

Then he said,

“Your uncle.”

I froze.

I had an uncle I had never met.

My father had always told us he d!£d when he was young.

But suddenly, everything felt different.

“What happened to him?”

My father sat down.

“He disappeared.”

“How?”

“We woke up one morning and he was gone.”

“Did you search for him?”

“We searched everywhere.”

“Did you ever find him?”

My father shook his head.

“No.”

Then I noticed something.

His hands were trembling.

“But why did you say, ‘Don’t take another one’?”

He looked directly at me.

“Because last month, I heard the statue call your name.”

My entire body went cold.

“My name?”

He nodded.

“Three times.”

I couldn’t speak.

Then my father leaned closer and whispered,

“That is why I bow every night.”

“Why?”

“Because I have been begging it to leave you alone.”

I felt tears in my eyes.

“But why would it want me?”

My father looked at me for a long time.

Then he said something I was never prepared to hear.

“Because you are the first girl born into this family in thirty-two years.”

I didn’t understand.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

My father didn’t answer.

He simply looked toward the back of the compound.

Toward the shed.

Then he whispered,

“Tonight, don’t sleep in your room.”

“Why?”

His voice dropped.

“Because whatever is inside that shed…”

He swallowed hard.

”…has already found a way into the house.”

That night, at exactly 1:17 a.m., I woke up to a sound coming from the corridor.

Someone was walking slowly toward my bedroom.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Then the footsteps stopped outside my door.

I held my breath.

There was no knock.

No voice.

Just silence.

Then I heard something being dragged across the floor.

I slowly looked underneath my door.

And my heart almost stopped.

A red towel was slowly being pulled away from my bedroom door.

To be Continued…

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22/08/2026

My father was a pastor.

Not just an ordinary pastor.

He was one of the most respected pastors in our town.

Every Sunday, hundreds of people filled our church.

People called him a powerful man of God.

He prayed for the s!ck.

He counseled troubled families.

He preached against idol worship and warned people never to bow before anything except God.

That was why what I discovered one night almost destroyed my understanding of who my father really was.

It happened when I was eighteen.

I was studying late one night when I heard our back door open.

I looked through the window.

My father stepped outside.

He was carrying a red towel.

At first, I thought he was going to the bathroom.

But instead, he walked toward the old shed at the far end of our compound.

That shed had always frightened me.

My father never allowed us to enter it.

Whenever we asked what was inside, he simply said,

“Old things. Nothing important.”

That night, curiosity took over.

I quietly followed him.

I hid behind a mango tree and watched as my father unlocked the shed.

He looked around carefully before entering.

I moved closer.

There was a small window on the side of the shed.

I looked through it.

And my heart almost stopped.

In the middle of the room stood an old statuē.

It was black, tall and frightening.

Its face looked almost human, but its eyes were strangely wide.

My father removed his shirt.

Then he tied the red towel around his waist.

I watched in disbelief as the man who preached against idol worship every Sunday slowly went down on his knees.

Then he bowed before the statue.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

My hands began to shake.

Then my father whispered,

“Please… I have done everything you asked.”

The room became silent.

He bowed again.

“I kept my promise.”

Suddenly, the statue made a strange cracking sound.

My father lifted his head.

“You know I cannot give you that.”

He paused.

Then he whispered,

“Not my child.”

I nearly screamed.

My father immediately turned toward the window.

I dropped to the ground and held my breath.

For several seconds, there was complete silence.

Then I heard the shed door open.

My father’s footsteps came closer.

He stopped directly beside the window.

I could see his feet through the small gap beneath it.

I thought he had discovered me.

Then he whispered something that I will never forget.

“I know someone is watching me.”

My heart nearly stopped.

He stood there for a few more seconds before walking away.

I waited until he entered the house before running back to my room.

I didn’t sleep that night.

The next morning, my father behaved as if nothing had happened.

He prayed with us.

He ate breakfast.

He even joked with my younger brother.

But I couldn’t look at him the same way again.

Later that morning, I asked my mother about the old shed.

She looked confused.

“What shed?”

“The one at the back of the compound.”

She frowned.

“Why are you asking about it?”

I wanted to tell her everything.

I wanted to tell her what I had seen.

But something stopped me.

Instead, I simply said,

“Nothing.”

That evening, my mother noticed that I was unusually quiet.

She asked me what was wrong.

I almost told her.

But before I could speak, my father walked into the room.

He looked at me.

Just once.

And smiled.

But there was something different about that smile.

It wasn’t the smile of a loving father.

It was the smile of a man who was waiting to see whether I would reveal his secret.

That night, I locked my bedroom door.

At exactly 1:30 a.m., I heard footsteps outside.

They stopped in front of my door.

Then my father’s voice came through the darkness.

“Are you awake?”

I didn’t answer.

He knocked once.

Then he said,

“We need to talk.”

I remained silent.

His footsteps slowly moved away.

A few minutes later, I heard the back door open.

My father was going to the shed again.

But this time, I decided to follow him.

Because I needed to know one thing.

What was that statue… and what exactly had my father promised it?

I had no idea that the answer would reveal a secret that had been hidden in our family for more than thirty years.

To be continued…

Part one one
Part 2 dropping now..

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21/08/2026

When a man dies, can the wife he has divorced during his life time benefit from his property ....?

21/08/2026

That beautiful Saturday morning, we were all excited.

My elder sister, Amara, was getting married traditionally.

Everyone had been looking forward to the day for weeks.

Our compound was busy from early morning. Women were helping her dress up, my mother was checking the food and drinks, while the men were arranging the cars.

By 9 a.m., we were ready.

We left in a convoy for my sister’s husband’s village, which was not far from ours.

One thing I loved about our village was that it was an urban village. Many successful businessmen and wealthy families lived there.

That was how my sister met Jimmy.

Jimmy was a major dealer and importer of cars. He was wealthy, hardworking, and well respected.

When we arrived at his family compound, the celebration had already started.

There were canopies, chairs, music, food, and people everywhere.

The community chiefs welcomed our family.

The women also came out to receive the bride.

Amara danced with them, smiling from ear to ear.

Everything went perfectly.

There was no strange incident.

No argument.

No warning.

Nothing.

The traditional marriage ended late that evening.

We returned to Jimmy’s family compound because Amara was expected to spend her first night there.

Everyone was tired but happy.

Before going to bed, Amara called me.

We spoke for a few minutes.

She sounded excited.

“I can’t believe I’m actually married,” she said, laughing.

I laughed too.

“Try to sleep. Tomorrow will be another busy day.”

She agreed.

None of us knew that the strangest part of the marriage had not happened yet.

It happened after midnight.

According to Amara, she had been asleep for about an hour when she suddenly found herself standing in a place she had never seen before.

There was no house.

No road.

No people.

Just a very large tree standing in the middle of an empty compound.

Then she heard footsteps behind her.

Slow footsteps.

She turned.

An old woman was standing there.

The woman was dressed completely in white.

Her hair was long and grey, and her face looked unusually calm.

Amara tried to speak.

But no sound came out.

The woman walked closer.

Then she smiled.

“You have finally come.”

Amara shook her head.

“Come where?”

The woman pointed toward the large tree.

“Your husband’s family has welcomed you.”

She paused.

“But I have not.”

Amara said she felt cold all over.

Then the woman came closer and touched the coral beads around her neck.

Her voice became very soft.

“Every bride who enters this family must meet me.”

Amara tried to move away.

She couldn’t.

Then the woman whispered something that frightened her.

“Tomorrow, ask Jimmy about the woman who disappeared.”

Suddenly, Amara woke up.

She sat up on the bed, breathing heavily.

It was around 2:13 a.m.

For several seconds, she didn’t know where she was.

She looked around the room.

Jimmy was sleeping beside her.

Everything was normal.

She tried to convince herself that it had only been a dream.

Then she noticed something on the floor.

Her coral beads.

The same beads the mysterious woman had touched in the dream.

They were lying beside the bed.

Amara picked them up.

Her hands were shaking.

She didn’t wake Jimmy.

Instead, she stayed awake until morning.

The next day, she called me.

Her voice was unusually low.

“Please, don’t tell Mum yet.”

I asked what happened.

She told me everything.

At first, I laughed because I thought it was just a strange dream.

But she wasn’t laughing.

Then she said,

“There’s something else.”

“What?”

She took a deep breath.

“The woman told me to ask Jimmy about someone who disappeared.”

I became quiet.

“Did you ask him?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m scared of his answer.”

That afternoon, Jimmy returned from work.

Amara waited until they were alone.

Then she asked him a simple question.

“Jimmy, did a woman ever disappear from your family?”

According to Amara, Jimmy froze.

He didn’t answer immediately.

He simply stared at her.

Then he asked,

“Who told you about her?”

Amara’s heart began to beat faster.

“Nobody.”

Jimmy slowly sat down.

Then he looked toward the bedroom door.

And what he said next changed everything.

“Amara, there is something about this family that I was never supposed to tell you.”

And for the first time since the wedding…

Jimmy looked genuinely afraid.

To be continued

Part one out.
Part 2 coming up..

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20/08/2026

Who owns the money

19/08/2026

PART 4…

The moment David called the woman “Mummy,” I couldn’t hold myself together anymore.

I started crying.

The woman looked at me.

“Where did you get my son?”

My knees became weak.

I finally told her the truth.

I told her about my baby who d!£d immediately after delivery.

I told her how I had seen her triplets that night and, because of my grief, I stole one of them.

“I am sorry,” I cried. “I know what I did was wrong.”

The woman looked at David for a long time.

Instead of shouting, she began to cry.

“My son…”

She pulled him into her arms.

David didn’t resist.

He simply rested his head on her chest.

Then the woman told us something I never expected.

She said, she knew that one of her child would be different from others.

“When I gave birth to the triplets,” she explained, “my grandmother was still alive.”

Her voice became quiet.

“My grandmother was an Ezenwanyi. She lived her entire life serving the gods in the river. She was the woman people came to when they wanted to understand the things they could not explain.”

I listened carefully.

“She told me before i got pregnant, that i will carry three babies in my womb, two boys and a girl “.

And that one of my male child would be different.”

She looked at David.

“She said he would carry the spirit of the water more strongly than the others.”

I looked at David.

Suddenly, many things made sense.

His love for water.

The way he always wanted to play in the rain.

His strange dreams.

The way he sometimes spoke as though he remembered things that happened when he was still a baby.

The woman continued.

“My grandmother told me that child would be called the child of the waters.”

Because he will be different from others.

He would become unusually calm whenever he was near water.

His grandmother had warned her never to treat him badly or make him feel unwanted.

“But I never imagined that someone would actually take him from me,” she said sadly.

I cried harder.

“I am sorry.”

She looked at me.

Then she surprised me.

“I cannot change what happened,” she said. “But I can choose to forgive you.”

I couldn’t believe it.

She held my hand.

“You made a terrible mistake because you were grieving. But you loved my son and raised him well.”

For the first time in years, I felt a little peace.

David continued visiting both families.

He grew up knowing where he came from, but he never stopped calling me Mummy.

One afternoon, years later, David came to visit Chima and me.

He was unusually quiet.

Before leaving, he brought out a small doll and handed it to me.

I smiled.

“What’s this for?”

He looked into my eyes.

“Keep it.”

I laughed.

“Why?”

He smiled.

“You will have your own children soon.”

I stared at him.

Chima laughed.

“David, what are you saying?”

David simply smiled.

Then he looked at me and said,

“Three months.”

I laughed through my tears.

“You are joking.”

He shook his head.

“No, Mummy.”

Then he gently wiped the tears from my face.

“You will be happy again mama.”

Three months later, I discovered that I was pregnant.

I couldn’t believe it.

I ran into the house shouting Chima’s name.

He came running.

When I showed him the test, we both cried.

For the first time, I was going to become a mother without stea|ing another woman’s child.

When David heard the news, he was so happy.

He hugged me tightly.

And I finally understood something.

The child I had stolen had not come into my life to destroy me.

He had come into my life to teach me forgiveness, love and the value of truth.

I still regret what I did that night at the hospital.

But today, our families are connected.

David has his biological mother.

His two siblings have their brother back.

And I have my own children.

Sometimes, when I look at the little doll David gave me, I remember his words:

“Mummy, you will be happy again.”

And he was right.

After all the |ies, tears and betrayal…

our story finally ended with forgiveness, family and a new beginning.

The End …

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19/08/2026

PART 3….

After David asked me why I took him away from his mother, I couldn’t sleep.

Neither could Chima.

We both knew David couldn’t possibly remember what happened at the hospital.

He was only a newborn when I stole him.

So where did he hear those words?

The following Monday, his teacher called me again.

“Madam, please come to the school.”

When I arrived, David was sitting in the principal’s office.

His teacher looked worried.

She told me David had refused to participate in a class activity about families.

When the teacher asked the children to draw their families, David drew two mothers.

One was me.

The other woman had long hair and was standing beside three babies.

The teacher thought it was just a child’s imagination.

Then she asked David who the woman was.

David answered,

“She is the woman who is looking for me.”

My heart dropped.

I took the drawing home.

Chima stared at it for a long time.

Then he quietly said,

“We have to find out what is happening.”

That evening, I decided to tell David the truth.

I sat beside him on his bed.

“David, do you remember anything about the hospital where you were born?”

He looked at me.

“No.”

“Then why do you keep talking about another mother?”

He was quiet for a while.

Then he said,

“Because I saw her.”

“Where?”

“In my dream.”

I swallowed hard.

“What did she say?”

David looked frightened.

“She was crying.”

“What else?”

He whispered,

“She said she has been looking for me.”

I couldn’t hold back my tears.

For the first time, I understood that whatever was happening was not something we could continue hiding.

The next day, Chima went back to the hospital where I had stolen David.

He returned several hours later with a look I had never seen before.

“What happened?”

He sat down.

“The woman who gave birth to the triplets came back to the hospital.”

My heart started racing.

“Why?”

“She has never stopped looking for her missing son.”

Then Chima told me something worse.

The hospital still had some of the old records.

And the date David was born was clearly written there.

I began shaking.

“What are we going to do?”

Chima looked at me.

“We have to tell her.”

After three days of thinking how to contact the triplets mother, someone knocked on our gate.

It was a woman.

She stood there holding an old photograph.

Three newborn babies were lying beside each other.

She looked at me and greeted me before asking me’.

“Madam, have you ever seen these babies before?”

“I have been looking for my baby, gathering informations about the families that gave birth the same day with me in the hospital “

I couldn’t speak.

Then she looked past me.

David was standing in the sitting room.

The moment she saw him, she became completely still.

Her eyes filled with tears.

She slowly lifted the photograph beside David’s face.

Then she whispered,

“That’s my son.”

Chima grabbed my hand.

I knew our secret was over.

But what happened next shocked all of us.

The woman didn’t call the police.

She didn’t scream.

She simply looked at David and asked,

“Do you know who I am?”

David stared at her for a few seconds.

Then he walked towards her.

And without anyone telling him anything…

he called her “Mummy.”

I nearly collapsed.

Because I knew one thing for certain.

There was no way David should have known her.

To be continued

Part 3 out..

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19/08/2026

PART 2…

Chima knew the truth from the beginning.

He knew the baby was st0|en.

He knew I had lost my own child and, out of desperation, took one of the triplets from the hosp!ta|.

But instead of reporting me, he kept quiet.

We both agreed that nobody would ever know.

We raised the boy as our own.

I named him David.

For the first few years, everything seemed normal.

But as David grew older, I started noticing things that frightened me.

He was not like other children.

He loved water.

Whenever it rained, he would run outside and stand under the rain until his clothes were completely soaked.

He also had strange eating habits.

He hated Fish, Snails and most normal children’s food.

But he loved rice, meat and vegetables .

Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night and ask for meat.

Chima would get angry.

“Why does this boy behave like this?”

I would always remind him,

“Don’t forget where he came from.”

And whenever I said that, Chima would become silent.

When David started school, his strange behavior became worse.

His teachers complained almost every term.

I attended almost every PTA meeting because of him.

One day, his teacher told me,

“Madam, David is very intelligent, but something about him worries us.”

I asked what she meant.

She told me that David sometimes sat quietly in class, staring outside the window for several minutes.

Other times, he would suddenly become angry and refuse to talk to anyone.

There was one incident I could never forget.

A teacher collected his food because he was eating during class.

David stood up and said,

“Give it back.”

The teacher refused.

Then David’s face suddenly changed.

His voice became unusually deep.

He looked straight at the teacher and said,

“You should not take what belongs to me.”

The entire class became quiet.

Then he collapsed.

The school called me immediately.

When I arrived, David was sitting on the floor.

He looked completely normal.

He didn’t even remember what happened.

I took him home.

That evening, I told Chima everything.

He became very worried.

“We need to take this boy to a doctor.”

I nodded.

But before we could do anything, another PTA meeting was called.

This time, his teacher looked frightened.

She told me something that made my heart stop.

“Madam, your son has been talking about a woman.”

“What woman?”

She shook her head.

“We don’t know. He says she comes to him in his dreams.”

I asked David about it when we got home.

He looked at me for a long time.

Then he asked,

“Mummy, why did you take me away from my mother?”

My whole body went cold.

Chima dropped the cup he was holding.

Neither of us spoke.

David looked at both of us and smiled.

Then he added quietly,

“She is looking for me.”

That night, Chima and I stayed awake until morning.

Because we both knew something had changed.

The secret we had buri!ed for years was no longer bur!ed.

David was beginning to remember.

To be continued..

Part 2 is out..

Dropping the next episode now

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18/08/2026

The day my baby d!£d was the day I stopped thinking like a mother and started thinking like a desperate woman.

I had been in labour for almost twelve hours.

When the doctor finally came out of the delivery room, his face told me everything.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “The baby didn’t surv!ve.”

I refused to believe him.

“Please, let me see my baby.”

They showed him to me.

He was so small.

So beautiful.

And completely still.

I cried until I had no strength left.

My husband, Chima, held my hand, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes.

We had been married for six years, and this was our first child.

The next morning, something happened that I would regret for the rest of my life.

A woman was brought into the ward after giving birth to triplets.

Two boys and a girl.

Everybody was congratulating her.

The nurses kept coming into her room to admire the babies.

I watched from my bed.

While packing my bags to go home.

And every time I looked at those three babies, my heart broke again.

That evening, the woman’s sister came into the ward carrying baby clothes.

The mother was tired and sleeping.

One of the nurses took the three babies to clean them.

I don’t know what happened to me.

I only remember standing beside the nursery.

Then I saw one of the baby boys lying alone for a moment.

I picked him up.

My hands were shaking.

I knew what I was doing was wrong.

But all I could think about was going home with an empty wrapper.

I wrapped the baby in the blanket I had bought for my own son.

Then I walked out.

Nobody stopped me.

Nobody suspected anything.

I went straight to my husband’s car.

When Chima saw the baby in my arms, he almost collapsed.

“Where did you get this child?”

I started crying.

“He’s ours.”

He stared at me.

“Don’t lie to me.”

I held the baby tighter.

“I couldn’t come home without a child.”

For a long time, he said nothing.

Then he looked around the hospital car park and whispered,

“Get inside.”

That was how the biggest lie of my life began.

But three days later, something strange happened.

The baby’s mother came to our house with the p0|ice.

She was crying and screaming that her son had been stolen from the hospital.

I thought I was finished.

Until the woman suddenly stopped crying when she saw the baby.

She stared at him for several seconds.

Then she whispered,

“That’s not my son.”

I almost laughed from relief.

But then she pointed at the baby and said something that made my body run cold.

“Where did you get that child?”

I said nothing.

She looked at my husband.

Then she said,

“Because that baby was not supposed to be born in this hospital.”

And that was when I realized…

I had not st0|en an ordinary baby.

To be continued……

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18/08/2026

Those who don't eat seasoning cubes, what do you use to make your soup taste good please?

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