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Africa lores and tales Preserving Africa’s timeless wisdom through folklores, folktales, African proverbs & heritage stories.
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BORROW POSE WAHALAEpisode 7 : The Screenshots Don’t LieSunday morning should’ve brought peace.But Tunji sat on his mattr...
26/07/2025

BORROW POSE WAHALA
Episode 7 : The Screenshots Don’t Lie

Sunday morning should’ve brought peace.

But Tunji sat on his mattress staring at his screen. Over 50 shares now. Comments pouring in. Laughter. Judgement. People he didn’t know calling him “Clout King,” “Canva Catfish,” and worse.

The worst part?

Some of the screenshots were real... old designs he had posted in Facebook groups and captioned as client work. Back then, it felt harmless. Now it looked like fraud.

He threw the phone aside.

Peter called. “You okay?”

Tunji let the silence answer.

“You’re not your worst moment,” Peter said gently. “Come to church. If only to breathe.”

Tunji didn’t want to. But he couldn’t stay in that room any longer.

---

At church, people stared.

Of course they’d seen the post.

He sat at the back. Head down. Hoping the pew would swallow him.

But after service, something strange happened.

A woman approached. Her name was Aunty Kemi. She ran a small bakery.

“I saw the post,” she said bluntly.

Tunji tensed.

“I also saw your designs. I liked them. I need a new flyer. You interested?”

He looked up. Shocked.

“You don’t think I’m...

She smiled. “Young man, Lagos no easy. But talent is talent. Can you deliver?”

He nodded. “Yes. I can.”

---

That afternoon, while working on Aunty Kemi’s flyer, Uju came over with a plastic bag containing food.

“Still eating Indomie?” she teased.

Tunji laughed. “Not anymore.”

They sat and ate together. Comfortable.

Then she pulled out her phone.

“I reported the fake page. But you should make a statement.”

“Won’t that make it worse?”

“Silence is louder,” she said.

That night, Tunji typed:

“I messed up. I borrowed clothes. I overstated work. I tried to look like someone I wasn’t because I thought it made me worth more. I’m learning now that honesty builds slower… but stronger. If you’ve been there too, you’re not alone.”

He hesitated. Then hit post.

---

The next morning, his phone exploded again.

But this time, with support.

People tagged others, saying, “This! Read this!”

A few even DMed to say, “Thank you. I needed to hear this.”

He even got two small job offers.

One from a NYSC corper who wanted an event banner. Another from a woman needing a birthday e-flyer.

No big money. But something.

---

Days passed.

Work came in, bit by bit.

Then one evening, Osas called.

“Guy, na wah for you o. You still dey post like say nothing happen?”

Tunji didn’t reply.

Osas continued. “You dey craze? I dey try help you get money, you dey post confession. Guy, you fall hand!”

Tunji ended the call.

Then blocked him.

Two minutes later, a WhatsApp voice note arrived. Unknown number.

“You think blocking me ends it? You think being holy online protects you? Bros, better watch your back.”

Tunji’s fingers trembled.

He showed Peter.

Peter frowned. “He won’t stop. And you can’t fight shadow with silence. We go to the police tomorrow.”

---

The next day, they did.

Tunji submitted screenshots, call logs, and DMs.

Inspector Afolabi reviewed everything.

“This is turning criminal. You’re not the only one he’s intimidated.”

Tunji sat back. Relieved.

Real justice was slow… but it moved.

---

That night, while working on the bakery flyer, a loud knock rattled his door.

“Who’s that?”

No answer.

Another knock. Harder.

Then silence.

He peeked through the curtain.

Nothing.

Then a note slid under the door.

Scrawled in red ink:

“We know where you live. Last warning.”

Tunji’s heart pounded.

He picked up the note.

Shaking.

This wasn’t just shame anymore.

It was danger.

---

To be continued...

Follow Africa lores and tales to stay locked on Borrow Pose Wahala. What would YOU do if old mistakes started threatening your safety?🤷🏼 Share your thoughts below.

🪘AFRICAN PROVERB OF THE DAY🪘 “When the music changes, so does the dance.” Life is not static. The rhythms of our journey...
26/07/2025

🪘AFRICAN PROVERB OF THE DAY🪘

“When the music changes, so does the dance.”

Life is not static. The rhythms of our journey... relationships, careers, seasons... they shift. And when they do, wisdom demands we adjust our “dance.”

Some people struggle not because life is hard, but because they insist on dancing to yesterday’s rhythm in today’s reality.

When circumstances shift, growth means learning a new step. Changing strategy. Realigning expectations. Evolving without losing your essence.

Flexibility is not weakness. It’s survival. 💪🏼Pride will have you clinging to the old beat while others move forward in sync with the new.

So today, ask yourself:
🔸 Has the “music” in your life changed?
🔸 Are you still dancing to the same old tune? 🔸 What adjustments must you make to thrive in this new season?

Growth begins with awareness. And wisdom is the courage to move differently.



---

You didn’t fight through storms, heartbreaks, closed doors, and quiet nights of doubt just to dim your light now.You did...
26/07/2025

You didn’t fight through storms, heartbreaks, closed doors, and quiet nights of doubt just to dim your light now.

You didn’t do the inner work, shed old versions of yourself, or survive seasons of silence just to play it safe when it matters most.

It’s time to bet on yourself... fully.
Not halfway.
Not "when the timing feels perfect."
Not only when others believe in you.

Now.

Playing small might feel comfortable, but it’s costing you impact, growth, and the life your future self is waiting for. Playing it safe won’t take you to your next level, bold faith will.

Because the truth is: If you don’t believe in you, why should anyone else?

You are your own best investment. You are your breakthrough in motion. And this is your moment to stop shrinking and start showing up.

BORROW POSE WAHALAEpisode 6 : Screenshot SeasonThe day started with peace and some boiled eggs. In addition, Tunji was s...
25/07/2025

BORROW POSE WAHALA
Episode 6 : Screenshot Season

The day started with peace and some boiled eggs. In addition, Tunji was sipping Lipton tea and trying to pretend the previous night didn’t happen. Maybe Osas was being dramatic.
Maybe nothing would happen.

But then his phone buzzed.

Unknown Number.

“Good morning. This is Inspector Afolabi from Area G Command. Are you Mr. Tunji Adeyemi?”

Tunji’s spoon froze mid-air.

“Yes…”

“We’d like to ask you some questions regarding a certain Telegram group and a few financial activities connected to your number.”

Tunji’s throat dried up.

“Sir, I never... I didn’t join anything. I was just contacted.”

“Please come to the station before 3pm today. We’d like your side of the story. Thank you.”

Click.

He dropped the phone like it burned him.

His hand trembled.

Telegram?

He never even joined the group!

He ran to Peter’s house, skipping breakfast and common sense.

Peter opened the door and immediately stepped aside.

“You look like you saw a ghost.”

“Police called me,” Tunji gasped. “Area G. They say something about that crypto guy. They want to talk.”

Peter didn’t flinch.

“Good. Go.”

Tunji blinked. “Go?”

“You didn’t do anything, right?”

“No. But they said my number was linked.”

Peter handed him a bottle of water.

“Tunji, you’ve been running your whole life. This is where you stand still and fight.”

---

2:46pm.

Tunji sat at the station reception, legs bouncing, sweat soaking his back.

He was ushered into a small office. Four plain-faced men sat in front of laptops. One wore glasses and looked like he hated noise.

Inspector Afolabi gestured.

“Your handle, ?”

“Yes.”

They turned the laptop.

A screenshot of the DM.

Fynestcrypto’s message. Clear. Timestamped.

Tunji nearly wept.

“But I didn’t accept! I deleted it! I even...”

Another officer interjected.

“We’re not saying you did anything illegal yet. But you were contacted. That makes you a potential witness. Or accomplice.”

Tunji swallowed.

“Look,” he began. “I was broke. I thought about replying. But I didn’t. I swear. I even told someone I wouldn’t.”

They stared.

Silence.

Afolabi sighed. “This is a big ring. People are getting duped with fake betting wins and Photoshop alerts. You look small fish. But be honest.”

Tunji nodded vigorously.

They wrote a statement. Asked for his ID. Then told him to stay reachable.

He left, heart pounding, shirt soaked.

The air outside had never smelled sweeter.

---

By the time he got home, his phone was buzzing.

Uju: “Can we talk today?”

Landlord: “NEPA don cut light again. I hope say your balance go drop tomorrow.”

Peter: “Come eat. You survived your first interrogation. Congrats.”

Tunji didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

---

Later that night, at Peter’s, Uju arrived.

She wore jeans and a simple top. No makeup. No filter. Just her.

They sat on opposite sides of the small parlor.

“I heard about the police thing,” she began.

He nodded.

“I didn’t do it.”

“I believe you,” she said.

They sat in silence.

Then she asked, “Why did you lie so much?”

Tunji looked down.

“I thought being honest wouldn’t be enough for someone like you.”

Uju smiled sadly.

“Someone like me was just looking for someone real.”

He looked up. Their eyes met.

And something in his chest unclenched.

“I’m trying to be that now,” he said.

She nodded.

“I know.”

And then they laughed. Really laughed. The kind that cleans your ribs.

---

But just as the night started to look hopeful, Tunji received one last ping before bed.

A Facebook account tagged him in a post.

“This guy borrowed clothes, stole design samples and posed as a legit brand. Beware.”

Over 30 shares.

His heart stopped.

Osas.

That snake.

He clicked on the profile behind the post.

Fake.

But the screenshots were real.

The world was watching again.

And this time, it wouldn’t be so easy to explain.

---

To be continued...

Follow Africa lores and tales for every twist of Borrow Pose Wahala. What would you do if your past started chasing you in public? 💬 Let’s talk in the comments.

🌍 African Proverb of the day:“The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.”This po...
25/07/2025

🌍 African Proverb of the day:
“The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.”

This powerful proverb reminds us of the deep human need for love, acceptance, and belonging... especially in the hearts of the young.
When a child is ignored or abandoned by their family, community, or society, they may grow up seeking attention in hàrmful ways... not out of êvïl, but out of pain and rejection.

It’s not just about parenting. It speaks to leaders, mentors, and every member of the community. Neglect creates the very rêbéllion we fear. If we do not raise our youth with care, they may grow up to raise chaos in return.

Let’s build a society where everyone feels seen, heard, and supported.




If it costs you your peace, it’s too expensive... no matter how shiny, tempting, or “perfect” it may look on the outside...
25/07/2025

If it costs you your peace, it’s too expensive... no matter how shiny, tempting, or “perfect” it may look on the outside.

Not every opportunity is a blessing.
Not every relationship is meant to last.
Not every door that opens should be walked through.

Sometimes, the loudest red flag is the way your body tenses up, your spirit grows tired, and your mind feels overwhelmed, even while everything looks good from the outside. That’s not peace. That’s survival. That’s self-betrayal. That’s a heavy price to pay for temporary validation or illusion.

True peace? It’s quiet. It's steady. And it doesn’t come with anxiety as a hidden fee.

Remember: You are allowed to walk away from anything that drains your joy, no matter how appealing it seems to others. Peace is not just protection...it’s power.💪🏼

BORROW POSE WAHALAEpisode 5 : Rice and RevelationTunji arrived at Peter’s place by 7:48 p.m., sweaty and anxious. His pa...
24/07/2025

BORROW POSE WAHALA
Episode 5 : Rice and Revelation

Tunji arrived at Peter’s place by 7:48 p.m., sweaty and anxious. His palms were clammy, and he hadn’t eaten since morning. But something stronger than hunger pushed him forward.

Peter lived in a modest two-bedroom apartment above a carpenter’s shop in Abule Egba. The kind of place where the generator’s hum was background music and everyone greeted with “Good evening, sir.”

He knocked.

Peter opened the door, Bible in hand and chin coated with tomato stew oil. He blinked, then grinned.

“Na you be this?”

Tunji nodded. “I need help.”

Peter stepped aside. “Come inside. Food dey.”

---

The sitting room smelled of well made rice and mosquito coil. Tunji noticed two other guys...Emeka and Chuka, both regulars from the youth meetings. Their eyes widened slightly, then softened with understanding.

Peter handed him a plate. “Sit. Eat. We talk after.”

The rice was smoky and spicy... real smoky jollof, not Instagram filter type. Tunji devoured it like a man who hadn’t tasted hope in months.

After eating, Peter led him to the balcony.

No preaching.

No judgment.

Just silence.

Then Peter said, “Talk.”

And Tunji did.

He told him everything... from fake designer shirts to dodging loan apps. From staged lifestyle tweets to ghosting Uju when reality bit too hard.

Peter listened, nodding occasionally.

When Tunji was done, Peter said, “Now we rebuild.”

---

That week became a turning point.

Tunji showed up daily at Peter’s place. He helped around the house. Peter taught him freelancing tricks, helped him edit his bio, and introduced him to Facebook design communities.

By Saturday, Tunji had his first ₦12,000 job designing church flyers.

He sent half to his landlord and used the rest to restock food and data.

A full sack of garri had never looked so beautiful.

Then came a WhatsApp message from Uju:

Uju: “I heard you’ve been helping with Peter’s mentoring group. Proud of you. Hope we can talk soon.”

Tunji smiled.

He wanted to reply immediately, but something held him back. Not yet. Not until he could say, “I’m truly different.”

---

But just when things began to look stable, karma rang the bell again.

It came as a visit.

Osas.

Again.

But this time, not flashy.

Not smiling.

He looked shaken. Sweaty. Paranoid.

“Guy,” he whispered, “you fit follow me talk?”

Peter was inside. Tunji nodded and led him to the side of the building.

Osas looked around like EFCC was hiding in the bushes.

“I no sabi who give them my number,” he whispered. “But dem dey trace our chats. Say the betting scam don enter police level.”

Tunji froze.

Osas continued, “That Fynestcrypto guy wey send you message... dey don arrest am. I delete the app naim I run. But dem say dem get lists.”

Tunji’s heart dropped.

He remembered the DM.

He didn’t respond.

But his name could still be there.

His number.

Even his profile picture.

Osas gripped his shoulder. “Guy, e fit reach you oo.”

Tunji felt the ground shift beneath him.

Not again.

Not when he had just started healing.

Osas looked him dead in the eye. “Guy, just deny everything. Even if them show you your screenshot, say na Photoshop.”

Tunji couldn’t breathe.

Osas slipped away like a ghost.

Tunji stood alone.

In silence.

In fear.

Back inside, Peter noticed his shaken state.

“Everything okay?”

Tunji nodded too fast. “Yeah. Just tired.”

But inside, the war had restarted.

This wasn’t just about lies anymore.

It was about consequences.

And the past wasn’t done with him yet.

---

To be continued...

Follow Africa lores and tales for more of Borrow Pose Wahala. One lie can open the door, but it'd require ten more to keep it open. What would you do differently if you were in Tunji’s shoes? 🤔

🪘 AFRICAN PROVERB OF THE DAY 🪘“When the roots are forgotten, the branches begin to wither.”We chase the spotlight…We mov...
24/07/2025

🪘 AFRICAN PROVERB OF THE DAY 🪘

“When the roots are forgotten, the branches begin to wither.”

We chase the spotlight…
We move to new cities, adopt new ways, speak with new tongues…
But sometimes, in the race to “become,”
we forget the people, places, and values that shaped us.

And slowly… the peace fades. The joy feels fake. The success becomes heavy.

Because no matter how high a tree grows,
if the roots are neglected the branches suffer.

Stay grounded.
Call your mother. Speak your native tongue. Eat your people’s food. Visit home.
Stay connected to your truth.

Your roots don’t limit you. They hold you up. 💪🏼

Peace hits different when you stop arguing with people committed to misunderstanding you.It’s one thing to clarify a poi...
24/07/2025

Peace hits different when you stop arguing with people committed to misunderstanding you.

It’s one thing to clarify a point.
It’s another thing entirely to waste your voice on people who have already decided not to hear you.

Some folks aren’t confused. They're comfortable in conflict.They’re not looking for truth; they’re looking for control.
And when you keep explaining yourself to people who enjoy misinterpreting you, you hand them power over your peace.

But real growth?
It’s learning when to let silence speak for you.
It’s realizing that protecting your peace doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re finally wise.
It means you’ve outgrown the need to win every argument and chosen the strength of walking away.

Peace isn’t passive. It’s a powerful choice.

So step back. Reclaim your clarity.
And let your peace make the loudest statement.

BORROW POSE WAHALAEpisode 4 : Snapchat Filters and Shaky FoundationsTunji was tired of pretending.Every morning felt lik...
23/07/2025

BORROW POSE WAHALA
Episode 4 : Snapchat Filters and Shaky Foundations

Tunji was tired of pretending.

Every morning felt like acting school. From spraying perfume on his only clean shirt to adjusting the same belt that had lost its hole from too much pulling. Packaging was war.

Uju hadn’t called.

The sting of her words still echoed: “You don’t know who you are anymore.”

He scrolled Instagram, fingers trembling.

Osas was trending again.

New car. Same fake life. Different filter.

"Baba God too run am for me. From trenches to Tesla. Believe!"

The comments were full of fire emojis and begging.

Tunji felt sick.

He turned off his phone and stared at his laptop. Canva open. Blank template.

He had promised to design for Uju's cousin’s bridal shower. For free. And he hadn't even started.

What was he doing with his life?

He looked around the cramped room. The torn curtain. The one pot. The cup with a missing handle.

Everything looked borrowed.

Even him.

He opened WhatsApp. Peter had sent a voice note:

"Bro, just be real. It’s okay to start again with the little you have”.

Tunji chuckled sadly.

Then a buzz.

Twitter DM. From a guy named Fynestcrypto.

"Bro I fit run you 100k. Just need you to pose like you win bet for one screenshot. Na just packaging. Your cut na 20k."

Tunji stared at it.

20k?

One screenshot?

Uju’s words returned. So did Osas’ voice:

"Guy, na opportunity. Not crime.”

He shut the laptop.

What if this was the break he needed?

Just one post.

Just one lie.

Just one screenshot.

He typed, "Send the details.”

Before he could hit send, another notification.

Uju: "Please don’t do anything stupid. I believe in you. Even if we don’t talk again... prove them wrong."

His hand froze.

He stared at the message.

He stared at the DM.

Then he did something shocking.

He deleted the DM.

And turned back to the design.

But as he clicked on Canva...

His phone rang.

Private Number.

He picked.

The voice was cold.

"You dey form holy? You think you can back out now? Bros, you don enter. No going back."

Tunji's blood ran cold. He hadn’t even responded... how did they get his number?

His fingers trembled as he ended the call.

Minutes later, a message arrived:

“You’re already in our books. You back out, we post your name and picture everywhere. No dulling.”

Tunji stared at the screen, his chest tightening. He had just wanted to say no. Was it too late?

His phone buzzed again.

This time it was Peter.

“You good?”

Tunji hesitated, then typed: “Can we talk? Tonight?”

Peter replied: “Come by 8pm. And bring all the lies you’ve been living with. We’ll burn them together.”

Tunji exhaled.

It was going to be a long night.

---

To be continued...

Follow Africa lores and tales for more episodes of Borrow Pose Wahala. If you've ever felt pressured to 'belong', this story is for you. Drop your thoughts and tag someone who needs this!

🪘 African Proverb of the Day 🪘"The lizard that jumps from the high Iroko tree says it will praise itself if no one else ...
23/07/2025

🪘 African Proverb of the Day 🪘
"The lizard that jumps from the high Iroko tree says it will praise itself if no one else does."

Sometimes, you’ve got to clap for yourself.
Not because you’re arrogant… but because you know what it took to make that jump.

People may not see the sweat, the struggle, or the silent battles. But like the lizard from the Iroko tree, you don’t need a crowd to validate your leap.

Affirm yourself and celebrate your wins even if no one else claps. Your survival alone is worth the applause. 👏

You’re not hard to love.You’ve just been in spaces where love had conditions, limitations, and price tags.Places that ma...
23/07/2025

You’re not hard to love.
You’ve just been in spaces where love had conditions, limitations, and price tags.
Places that made you feel like you had to earn affection, shrink your voice, or prove your worth just to be accepted.

But here’s the truth:
Love isn’t supposed to feel like a performance.
You were never the problem. You were just planted in the wrong soil.

Healing will show you that the right people won’t ask you to edit your soul to fit their comfort zone.The love that’s meant for you will never make you question your value.

You deserve the kind of love that doesn’t come with checklists... but just presence, peace, and safety.

Don’t let broken spaces redefine you.
You’re not too much.
You’re not difficult.
You’re just evolving past the places that couldn’t see you clearly. Good morning ALT FAN-MILY 🙂

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