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06/01/2026

Achieving good skin isn't just about creams and soaps, it's your inner radiance that matters. 💫🌟💖

03/01/2026

Well finally landed chiefs villages , chief has asked me to marry him so 3rd wife loading 😍😍

03/01/2026

26/12/2025

Season's greetings from here 🎄❄️❤️

14/12/2025

The Disappearing Boy — Part 2

By morning, the boy’s name was everywhere… yet nowhere.

They called him Kola—or at least that’s what the woman at the fruit stall whispered when I showed her the photo. Her hands trembled as she peeled an orange, eyes darting left and right like the walls themselves were listening.

“People don’t talk about that boy,” she said quietly. “Not anymore.”

That was the first warning I ignored.

By noon, I had retraced Kola’s last known steps. The park gate camera? Offline. The bus conductor who supposedly saw him board Route 13? Suddenly transferred. Even the beggar who slept near the swings—gone, leaving behind only a torn sandal and a chalk symbol scratched into the concrete.

A circle. Three lines. And a name crossed out.

I snapped a photo, my stomach tightening. I’d seen that mark once before—years ago—on a case that never made the news. A child vanished then too. No body. No trace. Just silence.

My phone buzzed.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:
Stop looking for him.

I froze.

Another message followed immediately.

Some boys are not meant to be found.

Across the park, I noticed something that hadn’t been there before—a small red backpack hanging from the broken swing. Clean. Untouched. Almost… placed.

Inside was Kola’s notebook.

Every page was filled with the same sentence, written over and over in shaky handwriting:

“He said I must come back alone.”

My breath caught.

Who was he?

As I turned the final page, a fresh line of ink appeared—right before my eyes.

“You’re too close.”

And then the swing behind me began to move.

Slowly.
Deliberately.

With no wind at all.

---

👉

14/12/2025

Send help Justice for me #

12/12/2025

⭐Part 1 THE DISAPPEARING BOY

Rain had been falling for hours—thin, cold needles hitting the rusted roof of Mama Nnenna’s motor park, drowning the noise of early morning bus conductors. But even through the rain, Ada saw him.

A boy.
No shoes.
Shivering.
Carrying nothing but a small blue bag that looked older than him.

He stood beside the parked bus like someone who had been dropped there and forgotten.

Ada wasn’t supposed to notice. She was only at the park to deliver a package for her aunt. But something about the boy’s eyes—wide, confused, almost begging—pulled her attention like a magnet.

When she approached, he flinched.
Not like someone startled…
More like someone used to being hit.

“Are you lost?” Ada asked softly.

The boy looked around quickly before answering, as if checking whether someone was watching.

“He told me to wait…” the boy whispered, hugging himself.
“Who?” Ada asked.

“My…” —the boy stopped, swallowed hard— “…my uncle. He said he will come back and pay for my transport. He said he’s coming.”

Ada frowned.
She had been at the park for almost an hour.
No grown man matching that description had returned.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

The boy hesitated again, then slowly replied:

“Chika.”

Rainwater ran down his face, but Ada wasn’t sure if it was rain or tears.

“How long have you been here?” she pressed gently.

He looked at the ground.
Then at the sky.
Then at nothing.

“I… I think… yesterday.”

Ada’s heart dropped.

Yesterday?

Before she could ask more, a loud shriek cut through the air. A conductor was shouting at someone across the park.

But Chika wasn’t looking at the commotion.
His eyes were fixed behind Ada.

She turned.

A tall man in a dark brown hoodie was standing by the gate, staring at them—coldly, sharply, like someone who had been caught.

Chika gripped Ada’s arm so tight she gasped.

“That’s him…” the boy whispered, trembling.
“…but that’s not my uncle.”

Ada froze.

The man took one step toward them.

Then another.

Then he smiled—slowly.

Not a friendly smile.
A warning smile.

“Madam,” he called out, voice deep and oily, “leave that boy.”

Ada’s heartbeat thundered.

Chika clung to her.

The man kept walking toward them, calm, fearless, as if he knew that nobody in the entire park would dare challenge him.

Ada wanted to run.
But the boy’s grip tightened.

“Please,” he begged in a shaking voice,
“…don’t let him take me.”

And that was the exact moment Ada realized:

This boy wasn’t lost.
He was being hunted
can continue with part 2....

05/12/2025

My pride my angels 😇🙏🙏😇 June 7th and September 15th will always be my favorite dates ,May heaven continue to shine it's favours, protection and grace upon my boys Amen 😚😘💞 last day of school for the year ,it's a wrap

30/11/2025

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