LIKE FATHER LIKE SON

 Looking through the window, I heard him speaking—sounding like a local "area boy" on a tour of the neighborhood. It took me back years to when he was just a child. I can’t even wrap my head around his age now because he’s so grown, but I remember him running around the compound.

Even then, I knew it wouldn't end well. His father would send him to buy cigarettes, and his uncle would send him for cocaine. Now, his youngest brother is being led down that same dark path. Word eventually reached his father that the boy is now a smoker himself; the father threatened to "deal with him" if they ever crossed paths, but I doubt that will happen anytime soon—if ever.

It’s a classic case of "like father, like son." He started on the wrong foot, coming from a home where his parents fought daily, threatening to kill one another. His father would shamelessly steal his wife’s money and sit at home doing nothing. What a platform to stand on.

Now, having dropped out of school, he survives on manual labor—cleaning gutters, scrubbing latrines, and bricklaying. He returns from these grueling jobs without even bathing, lacking any sense of hygiene, only to smoke his money away and gamble the rest. It is a fruitless cycle, and I truly pray he finds a way to retrace his steps soon.

SPIRTUAL ALIGNMENT

 

The Reality of Spiritual Alignment

Adapted from a message by Apostle Michael Orokpo

"You claim to be a Christian, yet when the devil seeks to ruin the life of a young girl, you are the first tool he picks up.

You find yourself arguing about God with your uncle—a man who holds a verified rank in the kingdom of darkness. You don’t realize that, in the spirit, both of you are actually in the same camp. The only difference is that he knows exactly who he serves, while you are claiming a Kingdom you know nothing about.

True Christianity isn't a title; it is a life aligned with the Spirit. If your fruits serve the enemy, your 'claim' is just a noise."

Key Takeaway

Apostle Orokpo is challenging the "cultural Christian" to realize that spiritual authority isn't about what you say, but whose nature you manifest in private. If the devil can use you as easily as he uses an occultist, then your "rank" in the Kingdom of God is non-existent.

 

Saving for the Rainy Day: Security for the Future

Life is full of sunny moments, but the rain—unexpected bills, medical emergencies, or job changes—is inevitable. Saving isn't about restricting your life today; it’s about buying your peace of mind for tomorrow.

Why It’s Essential

* Turns a Crisis into an Inconvenience: With a backup fund, a broken car is just a repair, not a catastrophe.

* Avoids the Debt Trap: You won't need to rely on high-interest loans when things get tough.

* Reduces Stress: Financial security is one of the best ways to protect your mental health.

How to Start

* Start Small: Consistency is more important than the amount. Even 10% of your income adds up.

* Automate: Save first, then spend what is left.

* Be Strict: Define what an "emergency" is so you don't dip into the fund for wants.

　 "A small leak can sink a great ship, but a steady reserve can weather any storm.

 The Eloquent Stranger: Two Encounters

On my way out this morning, I encountered a man who appeared to be mentally unstable. He approached me and asked if I would buy him some roasted plantain. I looked at him briefly and continued walking, but as I moved away, he called out in impeccable Queen's English, "Is it that you don’t have any cash?"

Coincidentally, I had a similar experience yesterday. I saw a woman who was also acting erratically; she seemed to be struggling with her mental health. However, she was speaking to herself in a very refined British accent. It made me wonder about her past—had she lived abroad? What could have happened to lead her to this point?

A Bit of Perspective

It’s actually more common than we think for people struggling with mental health to retain their education and speech patterns. Psychologists often note that:

 * Muscle Memory: Language and accents are deeply embedded in the brain; even when someone loses their grip on reality, their "intellectual" voice often remains intact.

* The "Fall from Grace": Many people roaming the streets were once professors, lawyers, or students abroad before a traumatic event or a chemical imbalance changed their lives.

It’s a sobering reminder that mental health issues don't discriminate based on education or background.

TILL THE END

In the dim glow of his living room in Lagos, Mr. Titus sat across from his best friend, Roland. The night was quiet except for the low hum of the ceiling fan.

“Why not do away with her?” Roland asked, his voice low, testing the waters.

Titus shook his head slowly. “That stopped being an option long before we exchanged those sacred vows.”

Before Roland could reply, the front door flew open. Mrs. Margaret, Titus’ wife’s younger sister, rushed in, her face tight with worry. No words were needed—Titus and Roland understood instantly. Something terrible had happened again.

They arrived at the hospital in a blur. Mrs. Titus lay pale on the stretcher, eyes closed, as nurses wheeled her urgently toward the theatre. Titus walked beside her, gripping the rail, while Roland kept pace, silent and grim.

In the waiting room, hours stretched like days.

“This one is worse,” Roland muttered.

“I know,” Titus replied quietly.

“I hope she survives it.”

Titus turned to his friend with a look that mixed surprise, irony, and deep pity. He shook his head.

“See,” Roland continued, voice cracking, “I know what I said earlier, but I never meant death. I’m sorry. You may not believe me, but I wish her well. It’s just that—”

Titus raised a hand sharply, stopping him. He gently pushed Roland’s comforting hand off his shoulder.

Roland’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “My wife again. Fourth time tonight. I told her I was here.” He checked the time—nearly midnight. “I need to head home.”

“So you’ll leave me here alone with her all night?” Titus asked.

“Her sister is coming back, isn’t she?”

“She said she was.”

“No, she’s not,” Roland said firmly.

“What do you mean?”

“I overheard her on the phone, speaking our dialect to her husband. She said she’s done taking care of her sister.”

As if on cue, the door opened. Margaret walked in.

Titus shot Roland a small, triumphant look. “See? I told you she was coming back.”

Margaret approached. “Thank God you’re still here, Mr. Roland. You’re about to leave? Please, I’ll ride home with you.”

Titus frowned. “Take you home? I thought you were staying with your sister.”

“No, not at all,” Margaret replied. “I came back to tell you I’d returned, like I promised. But I’m tired. I’m done with her issues. I need to step away.”

She turned toward the exit. “I’ll wait by your car if you’re ready.”

Roland looked at Titus.

“Go ahead,” Titus said quietly. “Your wife is waiting. Margaret has tried.”

Roland hesitated, then nodded and left.

Later, in the dimly lit patient room, Mrs. Titus stirred. Her voice was weak. “Where is my sister?”

“She’s gone home,” Titus said, sitting close, holding her hand.

“She left me…”

“She went home. Don’t worry—she already told me the last time was her last.”

“So why are you still here?” she asked, eyes filling with tears.

Titus’ voice hardened with resolve, though anger flickered beneath it. “I am your husband. My place is by your side—for better or for worse.”

“But you knew,” she whispered. “Before we married, you knew about my weakness.”

“Yes. But I had already fallen in love with you.”

“You thought things would change?”

“I hoped they would. And I was ready for the consequences if they didn’t. I just wished they had.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she squeezed his hand.

Years passed.

Whispers followed her in the market, in the neighborhood. People called her a fool. “Even if the stories are true,” she would say fiercely to anyone who dared speak ill of him, “I won’t back off him. Those who don’t know our story call me foolish. Those who do know and still say it? They’re the worst—the most ungrateful.”

One day, from behind the bars of a police cell, Titus looked at his wife standing on the visitor’s side.

“I heard you’re standing up for me against your own family.”

“You are my family,” she said firmly. “My husband. A friend in need is a friend indeed. They stood by me during those dark spells—I appreciate them. But they couldn’t stay till the end. You did. Through the disgrace, the worst moments… even the last time the market women beat me for stealing again. It caused my third miscarriage in a row. You stood by me.”

They held each other’s gaze through the bars—pain, regret, but above all, unbreakable loyalty.

In time, the storms passed.

On a bright, sunlit day, Mr. and Mrs. Titus sat together on a boat cruise, the water sparkling around them. Their children laughed and played nearby, running across the deck, carefree and happy. Titus reached for his wife’s hand. She smiled at him, the kind of smile that carried every trial they had survived together.

They had endured—for better, for worse, till the very end.

And in that moment, with the breeze on their faces and their family whole, it was clear: love had won.

The End

WHY WOMEN ARE MORE IN CHURCH!

Why More Women Than Men in Church?

It's a common sight in many Lagos churches: the congregation has noticeably more women than men. This pattern is widespread in Christian communities, especially in Nigeria and sub-Saharan Africa, where women often form the majority of active participants—leading prayers, choirs, ushering, and sustaining church life.

Key reasons include:

- Socialization differences — Girls are raised emphasizing empathy, relationships, and community, aligning with church's relational and nurturing aspects. Boys are often encouraged toward independence and competition, making regular attendance less appealing to some men.

- Life challenges and support — Women frequently face greater vulnerabilities like economic pressures, health issues, or caregiving burdens. Church provides emotional comfort, practical help, prayer support, and community solidarity.

- Family roles — Mothers typically lead in teaching children faith and morals, attending regularly to model spirituality and access Sunday school or family encouragement.

- Cultural roots — African Christianity has a strong "feminine face," with women driving growth through evangelism, prayer groups, and devotion in Pentecostal and independent churches.

- Psychological factors — Women tend to be more risk-averse, viewing faith commitment as protection against uncertainties.

In Nigeria and much of Africa, this imbalance persists strongly, particularly among older groups and vibrant evangelical settings. Globally, women have historically been more religiously engaged, though recent U.S. data (Barna Group, 2025) shows a reversal: men now outpace women in weekly attendance (43% vs. 36%), driven by declines among younger women facing work overloads, singlehood, or cultural mismatches.

The gender skew varies by church and denomination, but the insight remains: Churches thrive by engaging both men and women meaningfully, fostering balanced commitment for stronger communities. In Lagos pews, this observation invites reflection on inclusion and deeper involvement for all.

Do you agree?

Source : Grok

REGINNA

Title: The Hard Way

Regina walked into the classroom with two of her friends, and instantly, every eye turned toward her. The guys were smiling—big, eager smiles that followed her wherever she went.

“Why do they always smile like that when they see me?” Regina asked her friends one day. “The guys in class, I mean.”

Agnes smiled softly. “Because they like you. You’re beautiful, you make them happy. Honestly, Regina, you’re loved by everyone.”

“Not everyone,” Mary cut in quietly, nodding toward the back of the room. “That guy—John—thinks otherwise.”

John had watched Regina for months. Yes, she was beautiful, polite, kind, always smiling—but something about her bothered him. She sat with her legs carelessly open, wore clothes that were too short and too tight (mostly hand-me-downs from her mother and aunt), and seemed to welcome every guy’s touch or attention. Every Dick and Harry could hold her hand, brush against her, make her laugh. Mrs. Favour, their class teacher, was constantly on her case.

“Regina, can you behave like a responsible young woman for once?” Mrs. Favour would snap. “You’re at it again!”

To most people, Regina seemed stubborn. But the truth was simpler and sadder: no one had ever https://iksarchive.blogspot.com/2026/01/reginna.html taught her how to carry herself with dignity. She lived with her mother and sisters; the short skirts and revealing tops were all she had. Even her family kept telling her to “be responsible,” but they never explained what that truly meant. Mrs. Favour scolded her repeatedly but never sat her down to talk, never showed her another way.

One afternoon, after Mary’s comment, Regina walked straight up to John.

“Why are you different?” she asked, voice low but steady. “Why don’t you smile at me like the others? What am I doing wrong? And… how can I please you?”

John looked at her for a long moment. “You wouldn’t want to know the answer,” he said gently. “Because if you actually listened and changed, you’d lose your popularity almost immediately. Almost every guy in this class would stop giving you that attention. Are you ready for that?”

Regina went quiet. She glanced at Agnes, who shook her head slightly—no, don’t do it. Then she looked at Mary. Mary didn’t smile or frown; she just gave a small shrug that said, It’s your choice.

Regina understood what Mary meant. Mary was never the center of attention, never the most popular girl—but everyone respected her. Deeply.

Regina took a slow breath.

She chose the hard way.

She started dressing more modestly. She sat properly. She stopped letting every boy touch her or get too close. She still smiled, but the smile became quieter, more genuine. The crowd of admirers slowly drifted away. Some boys mocked her, called her proud, said she had “changed.” Others just stopped noticing her altogether.

But John noticed.

Years later, John and Regina stood together as husband and wife—deeply in love, built on mutual respect and shared values. Mary, who had once quietly admired John, had found her own happiness married to Joses. Everyone ended up where they were meant to be.

The lesson from Regina’s story is simple but powerful:

Don’t just judge people by what you see on the surface—try to know them first. Understand their background, their struggles, what they’ve been taught (or never taught). Instead of constant criticism, offer guidance, patience, and teaching. A little understanding and gentle instruction can change a life far more than harsh words ever could.

Popularity that depends on lowering your standards is cheap and temporary.  

Attention that comes from being too open, too available, too eager to please everyone usually disappears the moment you start respecting yourself.

Real love, real respect, and real happiness come when you choose the harder path—when you decide to value your own dignity more than the crowd’s approval.

Regina didn’t just gain a husband.  

She gained herself.

And that is the greatest victory of all.

I need a prompt text to generate a cover photo for this

EARTHEN VESSEL

You know how some people will tell everybody say you get potential, but when e come to helping you harness am, dem no show? Dem go dey say, “You will go far o,” and you go dey ask, “How na?” Dem get the capacity to help you blow, but dem just dey talk, no action.

Not everybody fit see that gold inside earthen vessel. Some people see am but no go mine am. Others see am and quickly begin dig. But that quick miner no be the only destiny helper o. The “farmers” too dey important—those ones wey go motivate you, spread your matter everywhere, till e reach the ear of the third person wey go finally invest and mine the gold.

No vex because of the first and second type. Keep working on yourself; most times, you never even ready yet. God dey work something beautiful. Just stay with discipline, consistency, and persistence.

A Balanced Upbringing

A Balanced Upbringing

In the cozy living room of a modest home in Port Harcourt, Mrs. Adebayo was visibly upset. Her ten-year-old son, Chike, stood in the corner with his head bowed after being caught in a lie about his homework.

"Why are you behaving like this?" she scolded, her voice rising. "Where on earth did you learn such dishonesty?"

Her longtime friend, Mrs. Okonkwo, who had stopped by for a visit, gently intervened. "Sister, why are you blaming the boy so harshly?"

Mrs. Adebayo turned to her, incredulous. "What do you mean? Didn't you hear what he did? He lied straight to my face! And this is the same child we take to church every Sunday without fail."

Mrs. Okonkwo smiled softly and leaned forward. "That's true—we do take them to church every Sunday. But let me ask you this: how many Sundays are there in a month?"

Mrs. Adebayo paused. "Usually four... sometimes five."

"Exactly," her friend continued. "And on those Sundays, how many hours do our children actually spend in church before we hurry them home for lunch or rest? Two hours? Three at most?"

Mrs. Adebayo nodded slowly. "You're right—not more than three."

"So," Mrs. Okonkwo pressed gently, "how do we expect them to absorb deep moral values in just twelve to fifteen hours a month? We complain when they misbehave, yet we invest far more in their secular education—and rightly so. They spend five full days a week in school, six to eight hours a day, plus extra lessons, homework, and weekend tutoring. We buy every textbook, exercise book, and school supply without hesitation."

Mrs. Adebayo shifted uncomfortably. "That's different. School is important for their future."

"Of course it is," Mrs. Okonkwo agreed. "But spiritual and moral formation is just as vital for their character. Yet we rarely take them to midweek Bible study, Sunday school programs, or youth fellowship. If the church announces a special children's event, we often say, 'Church is too much this week.' But if the school schedules an excursion, inter-house sports, or PTA meeting—no matter how inconvenient—we clear our schedules and make it happen."

She paused for emphasis. "Many of our children don't even own personal Bibles. We haven't taught them to read Scripture daily or pray on their own. We equip them brilliantly for exams and careers, but leave their hearts undernourished. We're doing one important thing while leaving the other undone."

Mrs. Adebayo fell silent, reflecting. After a moment, she walked over to Chike and pulled him into a gentle embrace. "I'm sorry I was so harsh, my son. Mummy and Daddy will do better. From now on, we'll make time for both—your schoolwork and your walk with God."

Mrs. Okonkwo smiled warmly. "That's the balance our children truly need. Strong minds and strong spirits—together they make whole, upright adults."

The two women shared a knowing look, both resolved to guide the next generation not just toward success, but toward genuine goodness.

BAD HABIT

The first thing he did after getting out of bed was light a cigarette — right in front of his children. To them, it’s already normal, so they don’t even blink. And that’s exactly what makes it so dangerous. When something harmful becomes “normal,” children grow up thinking it’s okay. Their hearts gradually harden toward the act, increasing the chances they’ll follow the same path — one that could lead to an early grave or completely derail their destiny.

A shameless, lazy father with zero concern for tomorrow. No vision. No focus. All he dreams about at night is smoking and drinking… and the moment he wakes up, he brings those dreams to life.

I know you’re different.  

I know you love Jesus.  

I know you’re trying to be better.

So tell me honestly — what was the *first thing you did* this morning when you woke up?  

Did you reach for your phone and scroll through social media? Or did you do something different?

Be real with us. We really want to know. 🙏

ABOKI

Today, I met an *aboki* (street fruit vendor) and was about to buy some fruits from him when a strong body odor hit me. It was clear he hadn’t bathed recently — his clothes were also quite dirty. Still, I went ahead and bought the fruits from him.

This experience left me wondering: Why can’t people in this situation simply buy soap, wash their clothes, or take a proper bath? I’ve seen real hardship during my time in Kano — yet even there, I made sure to bathe twice a day despite the challenges. Many others, however, still didn’t prioritize it, even when small amounts of water were available.

I believe something needs to be done about this issue on a broader scale. *Corpers* (NYSC members) posted in such communities should dedicate more of their *CDS* (Community Development Service) sessions to promoting *physical hygiene* and personal cleanliness education.

Unfortunately, some local leaders seem uninterested in pushing this agenda — perhaps because they prefer to keep the people in ignorance, using religion as a tool to maintain control and enslavement.

We need real change: education, awareness, and collective effort to break this cycle.

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