Oscartv77

Oscartv77 Oscar Tv 77....is created by Adaobi Promise Enekwa
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09/12/2025

Voices Of Our Society....Silent Killers

09/12/2025

Voices Of Our Society..... Silent Ki....let's
From the stable of OSCAR BRAVO PRODUCTIONS.

25/11/2025

Responsible Driving....

Every unsafe driver puts a family at risk. Let us promote responsible driving.

25/11/2025

Dr...ug ab...use is not a trend — it is a trap. Protect our youths.

25/11/2025

The greatest change begins when ordinary people refuse to ignore wrong things.
Your voice matters.

25/11/2025

Voices of Our Society reminds us that silence is dangerous. Speak up for what is right.

13/11/2025

💔 “Her Friends Ruined Our Marriage, So I Married the Girl Next Door.” .......Emeka

{Three} When Pride Meets Consequence

Months passed, but the wound in Uju’s
heart refused to heal.

Every day, she saw Ifeoma, gentle, graceful, content and it broke her piece by piece. The same neighbors who once admired her now whispered behind her back. The same friends who encouraged her to look down on me were nowhere to be found.

One evening, she came to my door. Her eyes were red, her voice soft nothing like the proud woman I once knew.
“Can we talk?” she asked.

Ifeoma was in the kitchen, so I stepped outside. For a moment, we both stood in silence, the air thick with regret.

“Emeka” she finally said, “I never thought you’d actually leave me. I thought you were bluffing. My friends… they made me believe I could do better, but I only pushed you away.”

I looked at her, remembering all the nights I’d prayed she’d say those words but now, they no longer moved me.
“I didn’t marry Ifeoma to hurt you,” I told her. “I married her because she gave me peace. Something you threw away while trying to impress your friends.”

She nodded, tears running freely. “I know,” she whispered. “And that’s what hurts the most.”

From that day, Uju changed. She stopped wearing fake smiles. She stopped following her friends around. Sometimes, I’d catch her helping Ifeoma with chores, quietly trying to make peace in the only way she knew how.

But no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t erase the past.
Because once love turns to lesson, it never feels the same again.
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13/11/2025

💔 “Her Friends Ruined Our Marriage, So I Married the Girl Next Door.”

{Two}

The Regret That Lived Next Door......Emeka

When I married Ifeoma, I didn’t do it out of hate yes, I did it out of peace. I was tired of begging for love from a woman who only took advice from people who wanted to see her home crumble.
“Her Friends Ruined Our Marriage, So I Married the Girl Next Door.”

But Uju didn'’t see it that way, she saw it as betrayal.

The first day Ifeoma moved into the compound, the whole street turned into a silent battlefield. Neighbors whispered, some called me wicked; others said, “He did the right thing maybe now she’ll learn.”

Uju couldn’t stand it, every morning, she’d watch from her balcony as Ifeoma swept her yard, humming softly, greeting everyone with respect, the kind of respect I used to crave from my own wife.

Ifeoma never raised her voice, she cooked, cared and treated me like a man who mattered. Slowly, peace returned to my heart, even if the air around our close was heavy with tension.

Uju tried to act strong, she’d laugh loudly whenever her friends came over, pretending she wasn’t bothered, but I saw the pain in her eyes.
Her pride was fighting a battle her heart had already lost.

One evening, she stopped me on my way home.
“So this is your revenge?” she asked, her voice shaking.
I looked at her not with anger, but pity.
“No, Uju” I said. “This is the peace you told me I didn’t deserve.”

That night, I saw her crying alone in the compound, her friends were gone. The same people who once filled her ears with poison had moved on to destroy other homes.

And in that silence, I knew she had finally understood what she lost not just a husband, but the man who once loved her enough to fight for her.
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13/11/2025

💔 “Her Friends Ruined Our Marriage, So I Married the Girl Next Door.”

When Love Turned to Mockery.......Emeka

One....,

I never thought the woman I called my wife would one day become a stranger in my own house. Uju my wife , the woman l loved so much changed and it wasn’t by accident, it was the whispers of her friends that poisoned her heart.

At first, it started with small things. She would come back from her outings with her friends, those same ones who never kept their own homes and suddenly, she began comparing me with other men.
“Chioma's husband bought her a car.”
“Nneka’s husband gives her money every weekend.”
Before long, she started talking to me like I was one of her employees, not her husband.

I worked hard, but Uju made me feel like nothing I did was ever enough. Her friends convinced her that she could “do better.” They told her she was too beautiful to be tied down to a man like me and she believed them.

One night, she said it right to my face, “If not for my friends, I would have left you long ago.”
That sentence broke something in me.

From that day, I stopped trying to make her happy, I stopped explaining myself. I just watched her , her pride, her arrogance and quietly planned my next move.

So when I started talking to Ifeoma, the young lady who just moved into the house two doors away, I didn’t think much of it at first. She was kind, respectful and unlike Uju, she actually listened when I spoke. She reminded me what peace felt like.

Uju mocked her too, saying, “That small girl? She can’t even afford to make her hair properly.”
But what she didn’t know was that the same girl she mocked would soon become her co-wife {laughing } living on the same close.

When I finally paid Ifeoma’s bride price, I didn’t hide it. I told everyone and the whole neighborhood buzzed with shock.
Uju didn’t believe it until she saw the wedding photos herself.

And that was when she realized what her friends’ advice had cost her........to be continued......
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The Woman with a Heart of GoldPart One – Invisible LoveMy name is LilianThirty-two years old, single, not because I cho...
07/11/2025

The Woman with a Heart of Gold

Part One – Invisible Love

My name is Lilian

Thirty-two years old, single, not because I chose to be… but because no one ever chose me.

I’ve always believed that kindness is the most beautiful thing a person can wear. I grew up helping people, giving, forgiving, even when it hurt. My friends say I have a heart of gold.

But lately, I’ve been wondering if maybe… gold doesn’t shine for everyone.

At work, I’m the one everyone runs to when they’re in trouble. Need someone to cover your shift? Lilian will do it, need money to borrow? Ask Lilian, she won’t say no.
Yet, when it’s time for outings or dates, they never remember me. I’m always the helper, never the chosen.

I’ve watched other women loud, dramatic, sometimes even rude, you you walk away with the men I secretly admired. And I, the quiet one with soft words and pure intentions, get left behind every single time.

One evening, I sat by my window after another lonely day and whispered,
“God, am I too plain for love? Too gentle for attraction?”

Then came Tunde

He was new in the office, confident, tall, the kind of man whose presence fills a room. Everyone noticed him—especially the ladies. But when he smiled at me that morning, something in my heart fluttered. It had been so long since anyone looked at me that way… or maybe I was just imagining it.

Days passed, and he started talking to me more, asking for help with reports, joining me for lunch, laughing at my quiet jokes. For the first time, I felt seen.
But deep down, a tiny voice whispered: Don’t hope too much, Lilian

And I wish I had listened…
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07/11/2025

. “I Love Children, But I Don’t Want One.”.......Patricia

Honestly, I am tired of explaining myself to people who don’t understand that motherhood is not for everyone.

I grew up in a family of six, my mother worked endlessly , morning, afternoon, night and because I was the first daughter, I became her helper, her shadow, her second mother.
By age 12, I could bathe a newborn, cook three meals a day, and rock a crying child to sleep. By 16, I was the one who attended my siblings’ school meetings when my mother was too tired.

Everyone called me “” Big Mama
They said it affectionately, but I hated that name ecause while other girls were dreaming of makeup and love, I was changing diapers and cleaning vomit.

When I became an adult, I swore I’d live differently. I wanted freedom not from children but from responsibility that wasn’t mine.
But every time I said I didn’t want kids, people looked at me like I was cursed.
“Don’t say that,” my auntie scolded.
“You’ll change your mind when you marry,” my friends said.
Even men I dated would smile and tell me, “You’ll make a wonderful mother someday.”

But that’s the problem everyone assumes motherhood is a destiny, not a choice.

I’ve loved children all my life but that doesn’t mean I want to raise one. I can play with them, guide them, sponsor their dreams but I don’t want to birth one. My love isn’t limited to blood.

I have a career I love, I travel often, I wake up when I want. Sometimes, I help in orphanage homes and volunteer at children’s hospitals. And yet, people still whisper —
“She’s selfish.”
“She’s barren.”
“She’s incomplete.”

But I am complete. I just don’t fit the picture they drew for me.

Motherhood is beautiful, yes. But it is also heavy, demanding, and permanent. I’ve seen too many women lose themselves in it, tired eyes, forgotten dreams, quiet resentment behind forced smiles.

I want to live my life without regret not regret for not having children, but regret for not listening to my own heart.

I love children.
But I love my peace, my space, and my freedom more.
And that doesn’t make me less of a woman , it just makes me honest.

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07/11/2025

Motherhood Came as a Blessing, But Felt Like a Burden.”.......Dinma

I spent seven years praying to become a mother.

Every month that passed without a positive test felt like a personal failure.
I cried through baby showers, avoided family gatherings, and endured the pitying smiles from relatives who whispered, “She’s barren.”

When the test finally showed two lines, I fell to my knees in tears. I thanked God. I promised to be the best mother in the world.
Everyone around me rejoiced, my husband danced, my mother cooked for the whole street, my friends flooded my phone with congratulations.

But the celebration faded fast, pregnancy wasn’t as magical as I’d imagined. I was sick, tired, swollen and scared. Still, I told myself it would all be worth it when I saw my baby’s face.

Then she came , my little angel, crying, helpless, innocent. I held her close, waiting for that instant connection everyone talks about.
It didn’t come instead, I felt overwhelmed, terrified, empty.

At first, I thought it was just exhaustion, but weeks passed and the emptiness grew heavier.
I loved her, yes but I missed me.
I missed the quiet mornings, the unplanned nights, the ability to rest without guilt. Every time she cried, something inside me broke not from anger, but from the realization that my life was no longer mine.

I tried to talk to my husband about it, but he didn’t understand.
“You wanted this,” he said softly.
And that’s what hurt the most — I did want it. I begged God for it.

But sometimes, what we pray for becomes the thing that humbles us.

Motherhood didn’t complete me the way I thought it would, it exposed me. It showed me how fragile I was, how little I had left to give.

I still wake up every night when she cries. I feed her, sing to her, and kiss her forehead. But there’s a quiet part of me that still whispers,
“I wish I had waited.”

I love my daughter deeply, but love, I’ve learned, doesn’t erase regret.
And sometimes, being honest about that doesn’t make you a bad mother it makes you a real one.

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