I've witnessed more failures than successes.
I’ve seen even the most confident plans go awry.
If there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that life isn't a Nollywood movie. Things don't always work out in the end. Yes, there may be light at the end of the tunnel, but often, that light isn't a beacon of hope, leading to a brighter tomorrow. Instead, it might be a burning furnace, signaling more adversity.

But don't be discouraged. Even in the darkest moments, a glimmer of hope can exist. Maybe, just maybe, that light is a chance for redemption, a new beginning, or an unexpected turn for the better. Hold onto that possibility, no matter how small it seems. For in the end, it's not the failures that define us, but our willingness to rise again, stronger and wiser.

This isn’t my effort at motivation, Lately a lot has been on my mind this is my way of letting it out🥹❤️

THE ENIGMA OF FLORA GILBERT

When I was 15, I visited a chemist on my street to buy medication for my migraine. That's where I met a beautiful girl around my age. She had a lovely physique, and I was drawn to her. I wanted to approach her, thinking it would be great to befriend her and maybe even find out which school she attended. Who knows, we might have registered for the same WAEC lessons together.

As I struggled to muster the courage to speak, she beat me to it. "Hi, my name is Flora Gilbert. Nice meeting you," she said with a smile.
I quickly introduced myself as Bianca, returning the smile. There was no need for a handshake as she was already leaving the chemist while I was still waiting for my drugs.

As I walked home, I had an eerie feeling that someone was following me. I glanced around but the street was empty. Shrugging it off, I went home, took my meds, and went to bed. That night, I had a vivid dream that someone was strangling Flora. I woke up feeling disturbed and said my prayers. When I told my elder sister about the dream, she brushed it off as a side effect of my migraines or the excitement of meeting someone new.

Continuation in the comment section👇

UNMASKING THE MONSTER, FINDING PEACE.

HE WAS DEAD
The man I knew as my father, the man I grew up to be in a love hate-relationship with. This left me with mixed emotions, sadness, pity and hatred.
He was lying down there, still, not breathing, not talking, not moving
Maybe he was just unconscious, maybe the cold or alcohol got to him.

My mom made me pay this visit, she asked me to go check up on him and send my regards two nights ago, after we had a heated argument about my dad, but I was so caught up with my project work…
I didn’t just go to check up on him like my mom suggested, I went to make amends, I had set my heart that I was going to do that.
My mom had raised me mostly alone and I was used to his absence. My dad was in and out of the city but moved back few months ago, came to the house and told me that this would be the very last time he was on and off in my life. I didn’t know how to react, it felt surreal
I had my dad back but this time around, I was already used to his absence, the last I saw him was three years ago before he made this visit to make his intentions of moving back to town known to me and drop the address to the apartment he claimed to have paid for.