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NIC NIC, Makeni (2026)

30/08/2025

My husband and I were invited to a get-together (party) with his old secondary school friends.

It was their tradition, every year, toward the end of December, they reunited after those who had been abroad returned home. Only this time, all of them were married.

According to him, they were just six close friends, and each would be coming with their partners.

Honestly, I wanted to decline. I loved the comfort of my own room and wasn’t eager to leave the house for too long.

Besides, this wasn’t just an evening hangout, it was a whole one-week party in a rented beach house with a pool and all kinds of leisure facilities.

My husband tried to entice me with how much fun it would be, but deep down, I had this unsettling feeling. Something told me this party wouldn’t end well.

Still, I prepared. I packed everything we needed, and we drove to the outskirts of town, close to the beach where the house was located. “Well,” I thought, “maybe it’ll be fun after all. Maybe we’ll enjoy ourselves.”

That evening when we arrived, the first two couples were already there. The place was lively, the air smelled of grilled fish, and tables were decorated with all sorts of expensive toasts and delicacies.

Being the foodie that I am, my hesitation melted away the moment I saw the food. I started to salivate.

After freshening up, my husband and I changed into something casual and joined the others by the beach.

The scene was beautiful; the waves crashing softly, the breeze carrying laughter. I got chatting with the two ladies who were there with their husbands. They introduced themselves as Sarah and Marie.

Soon, we (the ladies and I) were barefoot at the water’s edge, splashing and laughing like children.

Halfway through the fun, I felt pressed and excused myself to the restroom inside the house.

Standing before the mirror, I adjusted my dress and smiled at my reflection, beginning to relax into the atmosphere.

Then the door creaked open. And in walked someone I never expected to see... Smallet, my school enemy.

My heart sank instantly. Of all people, she had to be part of this party!

“You?” she exclaimed with a sharp laugh. “You’re here too?” She clapped her hands dramatically, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “No way! You can’t really be here!”

The best response to someone like Smallet is silence. Already, the air was thick with hostility. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder... who was her husband?

Whoever he was, I already decided I would be avoiding the two of them like a plague.

Smallet and I had history. Back in university, she was exceptionally brilliant, but her pride made her unbearable. Everyone disliked her, though no one ever dared confront her... no one except me.

I never hesitated to point out her wrongs, and she hated me for it. That enmity never faded, even after graduation.

“Better avoid me during this party,” she sneered.

I turned to her with a calm smile. “I only talk to people who have something relevant to offer me. Not runaways like you.” Then, flashing her a fake grin, I stormed toward the door.

But as I got outside, I froze.
Someone was standing there. Someone who clearly had been waiting for Smallet to finish in the restroom.

My breath caught in my throat.
It was Alpha.
My ex.

And not just my ex... Smallet’s husband.

Our eyes locked for a long, silent moment before he broke into a slow smile. “Hi, Nahpolie,” he said softly. “Long time…”

My heart skipped. The memories came rushing back, the feelings I thought I had buried. Alpha and I… we had shared something deep once, something I struggled to let go of before I met my husband.

And just like that, the old fire sparked again.
This party… Oh no.
It had only just begun.

To be continued…
Reunion Party—Episode 1

゚viralシ゚viralシfypシ゚

NIC NIC

30/08/2025

Amina's story Somehow, she fell in love with a guy without her mother’s consent. No one ever told Amina that there are good men and bad men… or that some men need relationship therapy before ever approaching a woman.

Her mother used to encourage her to be more open with the opposite s*x. She noticed Amina didn’t relate well with men and would always say, “Try and relate, my daughter.”

But when Amina found him and said yes, she didn't tell her mother.

When he asked Amina to date him, she said yes. She was eager, curious. She had never been in a relationship before. And he was so handsome, so full of charm… she didn’t even hesitate.Amina said

Their first date felt like magic. They laughed, they played, they ate like children at a fair. He was the most jovial man she had ever met—lighthearted, funny, full of life,she said.

Before long, they started staying out late. She would return home in the dead of night.
Sometimes, she would be afraid that her mother would shout at her, scold her, remind her she was just a teenager and shouldn't stay out late, but she didn’t.

Her mother would quietly warm her food, ask how her day went, and sit beside her while she ate. She was her only child, and maybe because she was a single mother, Amina thought she was just giving her the freedom she never had.

Other nights, when she came home drunk, dizzy from wine and her boyfriend, her mother didn’t yell either. She would hold her, and tuck her gently into bed.

Then one evening, Amina brought him home. She introduced him as her boyfriend. Her mother welcomed him like she had known him forever. The way she smiled at him, it felt… strange, but Amina pushed the thought aside.

Amina was only eighteen. He was twenty-four. Her mum smiled and said they were a perfect match. Amina thought everything was in place with her mum's approval, little did she know that was the beginning of her undoing.

He started sleeping with Amina anytime he wanted—at hotels, in his house… anywhere. And even though she knew it wasn’t right, she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted him. She needed him. She thought she loved him.

Until the day she walked in on him… with her mother.

She had rushed home because she forgot a slip of paper that had her exam details.

As she unlocked the door, she heard a noise… familiar voices… then laughter. She pushed the door open and there they were—her mother and her boyfriend.
She screamed.

They scattered like thieves caught in the act.
She stood there, shaking, trying to breathe, but the pain knocked the air out of her.

How do you even begin to process something like that?

Her boyfriend cheated on her with her own mother?! Someone old enough to be his mother!!

Was it her mother who was shameless… or the man she gave her heart to?

She never knew a man could be so vile, to sleep with both mother and daughter. That moment crushed her. It ruined her. She missed her exam that day. She haven’t recovered since.

The worst part?

Her mother never apologized. Instead, she looked at her in the eye and said, “A fine man like that shouldn’t be meant for one woman alone, my daughter.”

That broke me.

It made me question everything, even my own origin. Maybe that’s how she conceived me too… with someone else’s man.

She had never told me who my father is, not even once. And now, I don’t even want to know.

I just want to live.

Not with her help. Not with any man’s love.
I may not be an orphan by blood, but in my heart, I am.

No mother. No father.
I will grow… alone.

NIC NIC

30/08/2025

She told my brother suliaman she had a very bad past that could catch up with her if they started a relationship. No one has an exactly stainless past; so he told her it's in the past and I
he would let it go.

But she insisted that they shouldn't start something, instead they should keep being friends. She was scared and told him she was ashamed of her past.

Seeing she was finding it hard to tell him how exactly her past made her ashamed, suliaman decided to treat her to a meal in a nice restaurant to help her ease her mind.

To be sincere, he really loves her. She has the warmest presence he has ever felt, and each time, he always wished to be close to her so we could just laugh, smile, and make jokes.

But all the time, she was hesitant to move ahead in their relationship, she would always bring up her past, yet she wouldn't give her the details about her past life.

That night, at dinner, she finally told him she was once a "pr******te."

He was taken aback, at a loss for words, and found it hard to accept that as her past.

She said it was her past financial condition that forced her into such a life. "Life was so rough for her. Life dealt with her badly, she said she had no other choice but to take the offer."

But suliaman didn't believe her. She broke into tears and said she would understand if he decided to break up with her after knowing the truth, but he was confused.

He couldn't believe his own woman had been a public toilet for, say, years... used by old and young people just to make money.

He left her at the restaurant because honestly, he couldn't continue with such a woman after knowing such a past.

But night and day, suliaman became so uncomfortable, especially at work. He was always thinking about her all the time.

He asked himself: didn't he say he loved her? Didn't he tell her how much he loved her? Why did he suddenly give up on her because of a past that she is trying to bury?

"If he loved her like he claimed, he would go back to her, forget her past, and try to build a future with her," he told himself.

He made the decision. He made the choice.

I went back to her, and I accepted her.

She couldn't believe it. She broke into tears in his arms and asked him again to make sure her past wouldn't get between them, but he told her it never happened.
They should all forget it.

Months turned into one year before he proposed to her and decided to take her to see our parents. It was during the Christmas season, and everyone was home, including our brothers.

But the moment he stepped in with her, his wife-to-be, to introduce her to our people, our elder brother jumped up on his feet in shock and stared at her in recognition.

"You? Hook-up girl?" He shouted.

She started fidgeting at suliaman side, and he realized somehow the past was back again, staring at her.

Our elder brother shamelessly blurted out how he slept with her for one week two years ago, as her job demanded, and paid her off.

He even forgot his wife was in the room, the woman was shocked, and he can't even discuss the chaos that would erupt in his family for hooking up with another woman despite being married for ten years.

"A pr******te?" Our mother shouted.

She cried to suliaman that she wanted to go home, but he told her to wait. He allowed other family members to call her names and forbid that he marry her, including our elder brother who had slept with her.

No one was talking about our brother that slept with another woman while he was married... no! Only her!

Honestly, suliaman felt really bad knowing his brother had seen the nakedness of his wife, but he told himself it was in the past.

Our family refused to support him in marrying her, even when he told them she had changed.

He told them point-blank: "he has a right to choose who he will spend the rest of his life with. That situation forced her to live a reckless life in her past doesn't mean she doesn't have a chance at building a future. He said he will marry her, no matter what they think about her!" He declared.

He further said,he knows these people are humans, and one thing or the other forced them to live such lives. If they seek a chance at redemption and forgiveness from their pasts, why criticize and stigmatize them because of a past they finally chose to bury?

To cut the long story short, suliaman is fully married to her after our father gave his blessings.

Our elder brother is still trying to bring back his wife, who had left his house after he revealed the truth that Christmas.

And his wife? Suliaman said he's glad he met and insisted on marrying her, because no other woman can take care of him like she does.

NIC NIC

04/07/2025

THE GLORY OF GOD HAS TAKEN OVER!
WHAT GOD CANNOT DO DOESN'T EXIST!

04/07/2025

My former big boss volunteered to help his brother by educating his daughter called mamani.

Initially, mamani was being assisted by big boss elder sister JoJo but she fell out with the parents and washed her hands. My big boss being a good man, decided to step in.

The first action was to take mamani in and have her educated in Freetown because the city has better schools. Mamani's parents were elated because their daughter was going to be upgraded. By then, the girl was going to form 3.

Mamani came immediately they closed schools and the first step was to change her wardrobe. Madam and big boss shopped everything afresh and even got her a brand new smartphone-her first ever-so she could at least fit in when she made new friends.

Mamani was very clean and good at housework that she blended in quickly.

The problem was her report cards. Mamani had E's from form one, and big boss decided to hire a private tutor to see if she could improve. After a few sessions, the tutor confessed: “We have to go back to Form 1, Term 1. She has too much to catch up on.” This is where hell broke loose.

"Leave mamani alone. You want her age mates to clear school before her so they can mock her? Who gave you the permission to decide what's best for her yet she's not your daughter? We know many people who scored D's and E's and are doing well in the village."

The bad thing is that none of mamani's parents went past class eight. They couldn't instill pressure on their only daughter to perform well.

Big boss was very adamant on mamani repeating that the parents agreed half-heartedly.

The annoyed parents started showing their frustrations on big boss since he was strict on mamani and books.

Every evening, the girl’s parents would call — not to say thank you, not to check on her progress, but to complain.

“Why is she washing dishes?” “She’s not a house girl!”
“Don’t let her cook!”
“Why are you telling her to clean her room yet you have a house girl?”

Anything mamani did was considered slavery. They didn't want their daughter to wash a spoon because the house had a house girl which is me. Something funny, they didn't want her to do anything yet madam used to cook and clean whenever she had spare time.

We spent the holidays well though they were still persuading the big boss not to let mamani repeat. Schools opened and mamani was enrolled in a certain private school in form two again.

Then came the school report. Poor performance, missing assignments, zero motivation. Big boss became stricter with TV and phone access.

That triggered another war. Her parents called him unkind. Ungrateful. Even accused him of wanting to ruin their daughter’s future. All this from people who never went past primary school themselves and were proud of it.

Big boss used to receive silly phone calls from them complaining.

"You’re rich and proud!” her parents screamed. “You’ll die and leave all those things you don’t want our daughter to enjoy. Even your house girl watches TV freely! But you lock our daughter in a study room like a prisoner!”

The more mamani was adviced to study hard, the more the irritating phone calls intensified. They started calling madam as well, accusing her of not living with their daughter well because she didn't stand up for her when big boss became strict on mamani.

"Your wife doesn't like mamani. That's why she wants strict unnecessary measures be done by you so we can blame you and not her. We know you can't advise mamani to repeat or stay away from the TV and phone. It's your wife hiding behind you."

Big boss couldn't take it anymore.

"Bro, I can stand any disrespect but not you people talking ill of my wife. I've warned you to stop calling her about mamani but you never listen. I wanted to help but I'm done. Get any good school in your town and I'll pay. I'll take care of mamani but she won't live here. When schools close, I'll bring her over"

Our lovely mamani spent only one year with us.

Nahpolie Ibrahim Conteh

04/07/2025

Just a week to our wedding, Rejoice began accusing me of having an affair with her best friend. At first, I thought it was a ridiculous joke, one of those silly misunderstandings that would eventually end in laughter and reassurance. But she didn’t stop. She kept insisting I was getting too close to her best friend.

Yes, I had known her best friend before I even met her, but there had never been anything more than friendship between us—then or now. I believed that our upcoming marriage was proof enough of my loyalty, yet that didn’t stop her.

To clear the air, I showed Rejoice every single message and chat I’d had with her best friend, hoping the truth would calm her down. But she was unmoved.

According to her, rumors were already circulating. People claimed they had seen me and her best friend in "compromising" positions. No matter how I defended myself, her mind was made up. Rejoice was judging me based on rumors!!

I continue apologized anyway, not because I was guilty, but because I wanted peace. I believed we had finally settled it.

But then, the night before our wedding, Rejoice dropped a bombshell.

Rejoice looked me dead in the eye and said, "I slept with one of your friends. I needed to tell you now, so we don’t carry secrets into our marriage. You were cheating with my best friend, so I felt it was only fair to have a one-night thing with your friend too."

I went numb. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The betrayal, the heartbreak, it shattered something deep inside me. All I could think was, I thought I knew this woman.

I didn’t sleep a wink that night. My mind was racing, broken. I had a choice to make; go ahead with the wedding or walk away from a future I no longer recognized.

And I chose to walk.

On the day of the wedding, I never showed up. I left her standing at the altar.
The news spread fast—everyone heard about it.

But for the first time in days, I felt peace. Because no matter what the world said, I was certain I made the right choice. I couldn’t build a marriage on broken trust and revenge.

Imagine you have a similar situation like mine how would you have handle it best?

Nahpolie Ibrahim Conteh

04/07/2025

I’ve always had feelings for my student. I don’t even know how or when the feelings started, but every time I saw her, my body would become restless.

We had done a few things in the past just so she could pass my courses—and to be honest, I never failed her. But what I didn’t expect was that my feelings for her would keep growing, even though she’s a married woman.

None of my colleagues and friends had the slightest idea what I was doing behind the scenes to pass most of the students. And frankly, it never bothered me. But this particular student felt different—like the feelings were mutual. She wanted me too.

Every night, we would chat until we both drifted off to sleep. During the day, she would follow me to my office and we’d do our thing.

On days when we couldn’t meet because of school activities or other commitments, we kept the connection alive by exchanging n*d*s at night. This routine continued for an entire academic session. She had already completed my courses, but we still couldn’t stop. The bond just kept getting stronger.

Eventually, she was assigned to me as one of the students I would supervise for their final year projects. They were all in a group chat created specifically for my supervisees. That night, we were supposed to send each other our usual photos. I was waiting for her picture as usual—only for it to suddenly drop in the group chat.

And I wasn't the only one who saw it. Everyone in the group did. Some even secretly saved it to their phones.

My fingers trembled as I rushed to message her. I told her she had sent the photo to the wrong place. I panicked and quickly tried to delete it, but it was too late. She texted me later, saying she had mistakenly clicked “Delete for me” instead of “Delete for everyone.”

Without informing me, she went back to the group and typed this:
“That’s what AI does these days. That picture is not real. I meant to send it to...”—and then she mentioned my name right there in the group chat.

And in that moment, I started to wonder if she had any sense at all. Why mention my name? Why confirm that the photo was meant for me? That only made things worse! What student in their right mind would send a photo like that to a particular lecturer?

Now, I don’t know what to do to clear my name. The whole school is talking about it. The picture has gone viral. I haven’t even seen the student since that day, and I’ve been left to bear it all alone.

I’m scared—genuinely scared—that I might not be able to continue lecturing in the university because of this.

A true life story.

Nahpolie Ibrahim Conteh

01/07/2025

Tuesday declaration
Speak life into your day!

Say on Tuesday!

July!
New territories are calling my name!

I see new helpers coming!
By this left all doors/gates open up!

I say to the east, ephphatha!
To the west, ephphatha!
To the north, ephphatha!
To the south, ephphatha!

July!

All doors/gates are open! Fire 🔥!

The old has gone!
The new is here!(2 Corinthians 5:17) Powers that rein force the old in the new, fire 🔥!

Forces that deny my new season of it's expression, fire 🔥!!

Manipulations that arise, whenever my new season is to be announced, fire 🔥!

This is my reality: the new is here!

The season of delay is over!

Divine acceleration is my portion!

I step into a new season of divine alignment and doors!

No displacement!

No dislocation!

Wherever they said no to me,is now yes and Amen 🙏!

July ephphatha, lift up your head,o ye gates, the breaker has gone ahead of me,I have broken out, I pass through the gates; I enter my wealth place; every negativity that wants to strangle my new, fire 🔥!

You have done well for commanding your day. Happy new month 💟 🥳

NIC NIC

01/07/2025

Verydarkman👉 "10 million naira to anyone who can give me more scenes of the music video set where mohbad and zlatan sat on the wheel chair and samlarry came inside with some group of boys,I want more scenes and also 2million naira to anyone of those women in the video holding the wheelchair zlatan and mohbad used if they can come for my interview,I want all witness,I am carrying out my private investigation and spending my own money,they can’t cover this case LOL…..fk y’all emotions I no r£ally s£nd una,RATEL NO NEED CROWD,RATEL NO NEED LOVE OR LIKES,RATEL NEED JUSTICE na now I ready for this case) oh and I see yall insült!ng me,we just barely starting(THE REAL JUSTICE FOR MOHBAD NOW"

01/07/2025

On Facebook, they know me as Nahpolie Ibrahim Conte the storyteller, some call me the woman with many men but where I am, they call me help.

Often, I feel like a ghost in a uniform. I'm only visible when a mistake is spotted.

My madam is the proud type. Not the good type of proud but the proud that's punishing. The kind that enjoys watching you sweat and frown under the heavy work. Her house is sparkling clean, not because she's clean but because I wash it repeatedly daily.

She never lifts her fingers to do anything. Well, I'm lying, she lifts her fingers to point at imaginary mistakes or make annoying requests.

"That spot isn't clean.
Give me that phone(which is next to her)
Pass me the remote(which is on the seat next to hers.) Did you wipe this table?" She'd ask while tapping with her well polished red nails."

My day starts at 4AM when everyone is sleeping. I scrub the floors, clean the toilets, clean the compound then prepare their breakfast.

Yesterday was a rough day.

The other day, I saw a white porcelain cup with a gold rim and a crack on the handle just near the microwave. I admired it because I've never seen one. I left it as it was.

At 530AM, she came to the bathroom I was scrubbing while screaming my name.

"Nahpolie you broke this. Didn't you?"

"No I didn't..."

She stepped closer.

"Yes you did. Do you think I don't know all the mistakes you make in this house? Don't lie to me."

"I swear I didn't..."

"So now I'm mad? I don't know what happened to my cup? Do you know this was from my wedding set and it's expensive. Your one year salary can't even buy this. No breakfast today. And mop the stairs properly this time."

Yesterday, I worked with an empty stomach and a heavier heart.

She left for work at 10AM and came at 4PM. Her first stop was the guest's bedroom.

"Nahpolie" She called me while shouting on top of her voice.

"Did you wipe this table? And wash the bathroom?"

"Yes I did."

"Scrub the bathroom again because I can see dirt."

She has the habit of saying impossible things because she knows I won't argue. She knows I need the money. My daughter needs to eat. I need to save.

Speaking of food-madam has very harsh rules about it.

She eats alone. Always.

She's very selective of her food. The salt is too much, the chicken isn't crispy enough, the mango juice isn't freshly squeezed. She complains while eating slowly like a queen. When she's full, she leaves the rest on the table-untouched and perfect.

I know better than to ask for leftovers because she fired a housemaid for eating a banana that had turned black.

Yesterday, she called me over and pointed at her food.

"Take it. I'm sure you're hungry. You look like you haven't eaten in days."

I hesitated.

"Take it. You want food. Don't you?"

Just as I reached for the plate, she poured water over it and apologized profusely.

"I'm so clumsy. Forgive me. Just drain the water and enjoy the food. You don't have time to cook. I want you to clean my daughter's bedroom. You have laundry to do and you have to prepare french fries and chicken for dinner. The food is good, just drain the water."

My stomach twisted. Not because of hunger but because of humiliation.

At night, I sat with bread and water in my hands. I wrote a letter to my daughter describing everything that happened. I wrote every word, every action, every pain. I reminded myself that I do this for her. For survival. For school fees. For food. For savings. I know I'll never present the hundreds of letters that I've written to her but I'll write anyway.

I write because writing is my way out of pain. I'm a woman with a voice, I'm just waiting for the right page to scream. One day, I'll leave this house, not by quitting, but by writing my way out.

One day, I will write her out of my life.

Nahpolie Ibrahim Conteh

30/06/2025

The temptation of security: A mother's journey!

Let me tell you a story,I'm Nahpolie my daughter was three when I met Alie. A man with the charm of a diplomat and enough conviction to make you cut off your dreams and get married. He knew what he wanted-and he wanted me.

We dated for one year before we moved in together. He was a perfect man-a loving partner and a father figure to Ishamed . At the time, my work contract had just ended and I was actively job hunting.

"You don't need to work." He said this barely two months after moving in. "I'll take care of you and our children. Just focus on the home and our baby. I want you well rested and beautiful unlike those worn out women chasing jobs that can barely let them save."

At first, I thought it was a good idea. I was exhausted from balancing motherhood, bills and job rejections. Rest sounded like a gift.The idea felt kind. Tempting.

Weeks passed, Netflix and playing wife bored me. I yearned for money and freedom to spend what I earned. I presented a different idea to him.

"Since you don't want me to be employed, Maybe you could mentor me in business? or investing in the stock market or government bonds. You are a good business man and your help will go a long way."

"Business isn't for everyone. It's very easy venturing into one but hard to even make a profit. Nahpolie, how many people have businesses in Sierra Leone but can't even get a profit of 200K monthly? Everyone romanticizes business but they don't know how to grow or sustain one."

"And that's why I need to tap in your skills. You can teach me a lot. Teach me and I'll take the risks. I'm tired of just sitting at home."

He continued sipping his coffee while deep in thoughts.

"What do you want that I can't provide? You live in a nice apartment with everything you desire in it. You have everything a woman needs. Ishamed is more privileged than tens of thousands of children. What more do you want? Haven't I done enough?" He said this is a harsh tone while staring out of the window.

"I have more than enough and I'm grateful that Ishamed is okay. But I need my money. What if you go broke? You barely give me anything as well. I have nothing to fall back on."

"It will take a while for me to go broke. I've invested heavily in almost all sectors. I can earn even while sitting at home. If I go down I'll rise again because I'm self-made."

That evening was full of silence. His mother said nothing as well. She was a quiet woman who never meddled in our arguments.

That night, I went to bed early but stayed awake scrolling through my phone. Two hours later, I overheard them talking.

"My son, you've done enough to make a wife happy. Don't empower her no matter how much she begs. An empowered woman is quick to divorce. In our era, we valued marriage but your generation is full of evil women who want men to empower them so they can get stable and leave. Women use men as ladders. These feminists are always quick to divorce and ask for child support while introducing children to different men hoping to find another partner. Deny her the financial freedom. These modern women don't know how to be wives."

"Mum, what if I die? How will she survive and continue generating wealth for my children? She will blow this money in months. It's a lot for us but if she has no financial knowledge, my children will lack university fees."

"My son, women are smart. If you die, she'll get a way of learning how to increase the wealth. Women always find a way. For now, make babies. We'll think of that later."

I was shocked that the mother was supporting this stupid idea.

Days later, a former colleague, now a HR manager, offered me an interview. She assured me that I'd get the job of which I did.

I told him about the job and annoyance was written all over his face.

"What are you saying? Why take a job yet I provide you with everything? You want a job because of ego. That's what it is. You don't want to submit. This job will cost you me. The problem with you modern women is thinking you know more than your lovers. What makes you think I can go broke Nahpolie? I'm offering you peace and you're preparing for war."

"I don't want to be a prisoner." I replied calmly. "I want to be your partner. I want to help you in providing something little as well. It's for my peace of mind. For identity. I want to grow. I want our children to look up to me."

"You're not taking that job and that's final. My wife will never work as long as I can provide."

The next morning, I sneaked out and reported for duty. Tens of threatening messages of him leaving me for disobedience were filling my inbox. I ignored his drama.

When I got home that evening, he gave me an ultimatum.

"The job or us."

I chose the job. He told me to pack out in the morning for being unsubmissive.

I packed my daughter's clothes calmly. No drama. No tears.

I left that house with no savings, no man, no financial backup.

Standing at Waterloo market in Freetown garage, I called my mother and asked for help. She didn't ask any questions. She sent enough money to get a decent bedsitter in Freetown and furnish it minimally. My brother sent food money enough to feed us a whole month.

That night, in my tiny new space, I fed my daughter and exhaled.

I had nothing except freedom.

And that, finally, was enough.

I had no regrets and I'm happy with my decision

Nahpolie Ibrahim Conteh

NIC NIC

30/08/2025

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30/08/2025

04/07/2025

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04/07/2025

01/07/2025

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