CAN YOU DECIDE IF MAN SNATCHING OCCURED HERE?

While I do not agree that a Man can be snatched, like huh? is he a purse? Kindly read the story below and determine if any snatching occurred there....

Segun had been on my case for at least 2 years.
I met him one hot Saturday as I was waiting for a taxi on a Grogner Street in Iwaya, Onike. He pulled over and asked where I was headed. I don’t ever talk to people on the road but this day, the look of the mist on the window of his air conditioned car made it difficult to ignore him given the extreme heat I was exposed to.
I stepped into his car, grateful for the ride, yet determined to let him know I was no cheap girl that jumps into available cars.
“Thank you so much, Sir, for the ride. I normally wouldn’t do this but I have been standing outside in the sun for at least 30 minutes. The cabs come in trickles and are either taken or too expensive. No one is interested in going my way”
“Where might that be?” He asked, totally ignoring every other thing I had said.
“I’m going to Ikota but I’ll drop off once we get to any major road where I can find a cab”.
“You’re in luck. I’m actually going to VGC butI need to get to Surulere first. So I can either drop you off at a taxi park or you accompany me to Surulere and then I drop you off at your doorstep.”
Inasmuch as I was so eager not to overuse help being rendered, I opted for the latter option. I was in no hurry whatsoever to go my empty home. Mom and dad were on their way to Ikene for a week long engagement and my younger siblings were all in school. My best friend, Mololu had kindly volunteered to spend the week with me but she would not be getting to mine until Sunday night so that meant I’d be spending Saturday night by myself with only Larry, the dog and Mustafa, the gate man, for company.
I looked at my wristwatch, with its recently cracked screen and declared,
“Well, it’s just 1.00 and I’m not in a hurry so I’ll go with you”.
I got to meet him properly. His name is Segun, a businessman who was into the oil and gas sector. He had been working for himself in Libya before moving to Nigeria earlier that year. The Nigerian side of his business was only just growing and was already facing major challenges but a meeting he had in Abuja two weeks from our meeting would determine if a major stumbling block would be removed and his license would be granted. He saw an RCCG band on my wrist and asked me topray along with him. I promised to.
As he dropped me off at about 4pm that Saturday evening, I felt like I knew him already....

...Segun was very chatty, divulging a lot so quickly. During those hours we spent together, I also found out that he has a 5 year old daughter by a white French girl he dated all through his university years in France. The lady had gone on to marry another Nigerian and they lived in Port Harcourt with his daughter, Amélie. His dad was long gone and his mom had raised he and his siblings by herself. I did what I do not ever do. I gave him my phone numbers and my pin and from there, we became friends. The problem with Segun was with his way of showing concern and love. My primary love language is Quality Time and I’m not really the type to get all mushy too early. So it came as a bit of a rude shock to me when I received my first “love you baby”, 2 weeks from the day we met. I really didn’t know what to make of the message and it abruptly ended our chat as I did not respond. To be fair to him, I assumed he was simply overjoyed as he was granted all necessary permits we prayed for, that he spoke out of turn.
About four hours after, at1 am, I got another message from him telling me how much he’s so into me and how he feels like he has finally found what he had been looking for and if I would be okay being a second mom to his daughter and how he wants me to meet his mom. I read it and responded with a “BRB”. Later in the day, we met up for a meal and then I explained how, though I appreciate his feelings, it was all too soon for me and I would appreciate¬ if I am given a bit more time to be on that kind of level with him. In the meanwhile, I suggested that we remain friends. He looked a bit disappointed but accepted and declared that he was in no hurry and would wait for me however long it took me to realise my feelings for him or develop them.
Segun was extremely generous to me, almost worryingly so. Once he travelled and brought me an orange Hermès’ Birkin40cm bag which retails for about $2000. I was shocked and despite loving nice stuff, I didn’t want to take it from him initially but I eventually did mentioning it to him that he really didn’t need to spend that much on me and he should focus more on growing his business.
Mololu usually saw one Harrods or Neiman Marcus shopping bag or the other and was always encouraging me to “stop fronting and say yes to Segun before a sharp girl does”. I guess because of the manner in which he approached me, it made me a bit overly cautious since this his asking out was more like a proposal and he seemed so sure of his feelings for me. I slowed things down a lot and outrightly refused to meet his mom for the first three months. I didn’t want to get carried away at all and kept praying and taking things slow. Despite our living so close to each other, I hardly went to his and since I come from a relatively strict home, his visits were sparing as well (of my doing).
About six months after we met, work commitments took him away from Nigeria for a long while. During that period, he would come to Nigeria at least once a month, bombarding me with all manners of gifts. Even when he was not around, he’d randomly have flowers delivered to my office.
He would send handwritten letters by DHL and whenever anyone was travelling to Nigeria, he would have them deliver something to me, however small. There was a time he sent me a bottle of Lucozade because I had lamented that the Nigerian one tasted different. When it came to giving, Segun was without fault. But in my opinion, there was more to consider than how generous a man is.....

...Sometime, five months ago, Mololu was sent to England for a training to last 3 weeks and she used the opportunity to shop and ended up having 2 extra boxes. She complained over the phone to me telling me the airline was overcharging her and then, partly because I felt it right to help and partly because I had ordered somethings which she was bringing for me, I decided to ask Segun if he could help out since I know he always travelled light and never uses the extra allowance granted to him. He accepted to help bring the extra boxes and I gave her his hotel address to drop them off a day before her flight. He was due in Nigeria a week and half after.
My suspicion was first roused when, upon his arrival, he took the bags to Mololu’s in Ogudu, instead of as I expected, bringing it to me and having us sort ourselves out. I asked for the favour. I mentioned to him that my stuff was included in the box so it came as a surprise to me when he drove all the way to hers the next day to drop the boxes off. When I asked him why he did that, he said the boxes were quite heavy and that he was going that way and decided to drop them off. I had more questions but felt since I was not his girlfriend, there is a limit to the questions I can pose without looking funny. My pride got in the way and I decided not to mention it anymore.The calls reduced. The texts were shorter. The usual “love you” closing went missing. ‘Mololu too reduced her communication with me. Then one day, she drove to mine and after lunch asked the most random question, ‘Are you and Segun in a relationship?”.¬ She looked like she had struggled to ask that question but at the same time, as though that was her aim for coming to mine.
“Why do you ask?”
“Nothing at all o. Just wondering ’cause you have known him for a while and you said you were praying a while back for direction and was wondering if maybe God said no since you are not dating him”, she mumbled.
“Omololu, did I say we are not dating?”
“Oh sorry. But I kinda know you are not”
At this stage, I know she and Segun must have spoken about our relationship status and so I decided to cut to the chase.
“Did Segun mention it to you himself?”
She looked down and playing with her perfectly manicured nails, said yes. I had noticed she brought a brand new car to mine with a new plate number. She had the black of my Hermes bag too. Wow! I didn’t want to believe what I know just had to be the truth. It was written all over her face. I don’t know where I got the strength but I said not a word after that. Awkwardly,¬ she picked up her bag and car keys. I noticed then it was a Hyundai. It must be the Sonata she always wanted ever since it was released last year. She would always point at every 2011 Sonata she saw on the road and say she’d one day, get it....

.......To cut the very long tale short, my best friend Omololu and my 2 year old toaster are now together. Segun drove to mine 2 weeks after Omololu did and said somethings to me. He first of all apologised. He said he was not sorry for moving on but sorry that it had to be someone I knew simply because of the sake of his consideration of my feelings and not because it was wrong. He said, as I never for once, declared any form of feelings for him during our almost 2 year friendship, he does not feel he had wronged me in any way. He said he would always be grateful for meeting me as, through me, a door of everlasting joy had been opened to him and he would like my blessing as he walks into it. I was weak.
To be honest, I’m not hundred percent certain which hurts more, the fact that I’m losing a really nice and eligible suitor, that I lost him to a ‘friend’, the sneaky way it happened or the fact that I almost executed the deed for them by creating an enabling environment.
I really wanted to know how it all happened and so I demanded the tale, not from Mololu, but from Segun himself. He told me that the week before he travelled, when he saw her at mine, they had got talking whilst I was in the bathroom and she had mentioned she would be off on training and that she would be doing crazy shopping for her new apartment. They had a few ‘moments’ that day but they did not exchange numbers. It was the day she brought the bags to his hotel that the sparks went flying. She had gotten to his hotel at about 12 noon and they went to out together and he dropped her off at her hotel at about 9pm. Early the next morning, at about 5 am, he drove down to her hotel to take her to the airport himself and from their journey, they got even closer. According to him, he knew that morning that he was ‘home’. That conversation sounded painfully familiar and I couldn’t help my grimace. At that juncture, I held up my hands and told him I was satisfied with the information he furnished and that they both have my blessing. He hugged me and left.
That evening, Omololu updated her status with these words “Those that wait on the Lord will rejoice. I rejoice. Behold, my Boaz!”. His picture was her DP. I remember that picture. I took it with his iPhone whilst trying out an app. Each day, a new picture of him would be put on display. There was even one of herself, Segun and his daughter. She had firmly ingrained herself in his life.
Due to how serious I know Segun is, it came as no shock to me when she told me they were getting married and she really wanted me to be her chief bridesmaid though if I felt I could not do it, she would understand. According to her, she was doing that for the friendship we once shared which she hoped we could revive. I refused. But not before letting her know that I could be counted on if she needed any assistance.
At about 12 midnight, I got this email from her, “Sweetheart¬, I love you. God knows I do. I apologise for how I might have hurt you but despite all, I would be a liar to say I would or could elect to do things differently if given a second chance.
Oluwasegun has brought me the type of joy I thought was only for the fairy tales. But through him, I have my very own fairy tale. I love him with all my being. I know I might come across as insensitive and selfish. I am sorry. But please, try and find a place in your kind heart to let go of any hurt you might be experiencing and enter into a place of happiness for me, Omololu, your sister and best friend since our Corona days. It should not be heard that we are fighting over a man and remember, my darling, you never were in a relationship with Segun.
You never took the plunge, you shielded your heart from hurt and refused to commit to anything. I know you babes. When you truly love a man, you have no time for such long due diligence exercises. If you want to be sincere with yourself, you would admit that Segun never did anything to your heart. Your heart did not skip beats with the sound of his voice. Your body never quivered with the touch of his hands. I understand you two never even kissed. You clearly never felt love for him.
However, I cannot discount the friendship you shared. Till date, he still goes on and on about how you are the only friend whose loss moved him to his core. I can testify too of your level of regard of your friendship and respect for him. But my dear, friendship and respect are not solid foundation enough upon which to construct a marriage. You knew this and this is why you stalled. What did not grow in 2 years would most likely never grow.
I hope you understand that the aim of this email is not to throw in your face the fact that Oluwasegun and yourself never had anything concrete but to let you take a proper, honest and dispassionat¬e look at goings on. If you do, forgiving me would come, naturally.
I can’t stop loving you dear. I am sad that the vow we made to each other 16 years ago to be each others’ maids of honour even if one got married first would not be fulfilled. Please, re-examine your heart and find a place in it to forgive me.
Yours now and always,
‘Mololu.”
The tears came pouring down. I couldn’t say exactly why and they were not asking. I felt sorry for myself. I felt sad because I really wasn’t crazy about Segun but we could have made it work, I guess. Omololu now was benefitting from all the prayers I invested in Segun, all the fasting. That, more than anything hurt me. I would have married Segun. I just needed him to pass one more test and voila, I’d have said yes to him. I never thought he’d stop loving me. I never though I’d lose him and certainly not to my friend, my supposed best friend *** grr

I eventually decided to be her Chief Bridesmaid and muster strength to be happy for her. There was no faking the look of intense joy on her face when I told her I changed my mind. She jumped on me in her usual boisterous fashion, laughing and crying at the same time.
God has been helping me. It has been hard. Especially when I see the look on Segun’s face as he looks at her. He never looked at me that way, I must confess.
His business has been doing greatly and he is sparing nothing for his wedding. His daughter, upon Omololu’s request, will be both the little bride and the flower girl. Omololu’s nephew will be the ringbearer. Her Eli Saab dress is absolutely beautiful. Segun flew us both to England to get it. She asked for a size bigger and I suspect she is pregnant.
With each day, the feeling of hurt and betrayal gets slowly taken over by happiness for her and hope for my own future. I still haven’t met anyone worth reporting on and despite this, I have joy. Not happiness, but joy; joy that all will turn out well. But for now, I still can’t help from asking myself each time I look at Omololu, ‘How could she?!‘

Dear readers, what are your thoughts? Would you call Omololu a ‘man snatcher’? Was the writer at fault? Did she stall for too long??..

Mena: The detailed amount of materialism in the story sef tire me pass.

SHE BARES HER BREASTS IN THE RIVER ONCE A MONTH + other secret things you may not know about LEGEND KOLA BOOF

I have a much better grasp of this outspoken woman from the first time I posted about her (See http://efemenaoreoluwa.blogspot.com/2010/05/legend-of-kola-boof.html )as I have now read more on her work, and philosophy. But to recap: Egyptian-Sudanese-American novelist and poet Kola Boof has been an agent for Sudan’s SPLA and was the National Chairwoman of the U.S. Branch of the Sudanese Sensitization Peace Project.

Kola once said:

" I don't deny that I'm a controversial, provocative public figure. I reject all man-made religions, be it Christianity, Islam, the Jewish faith, Buddhism or any worship that was created by men. I am a womanist and an African mother. I bare my breasts in the river once a month and I believe in the womb. "

She once famously said: ...Thirty years of rap stars, Black, White and Latino have singled out the Black man’s mother as “an innately born gold digger” and “nagging shrew” unworthy of love or respect as a woman. The message on nearly every single CD is that Bitches and Ho’s (which is how the Black Man’s mother is openly referenced on the public radio or at cookouts in the back yards of Black households in the United States) are to be used as sex mules; suitable for freaky sex, preferably discarded afterward and routinely impregnated...Everybody’s been in Kim Kardashian’s mouth. Just as Ray J. stated in a recent television interview, that’s her claim to fame. And Kim Kardashian’s men, Black as they want to be, have to be rich enough to afford her—yet there’s no song on Black American radio that disses and degrades her. To the contrary, she’s written about as though we’ve been descended upon by Elizabeth Taylor.


O.J. Simpson’s famously dead wife, Nicole, was an uneducated “waitress” that he purchased Breast Implants for—then married and put in a five million dollar mansion. But there was never any song castigating her for being a skank and gold digger. Jennifer Lopez rose from a Solid Gold dancer and got all her breaks in life by sleeping with successful Black men who could further her career (Keenan Ivory Wayans, Sean Puffy Combs)…at which point…she took her “stardom created by the Black Community” over to White man Ben Affleck, then to her Puerto Rican husband’s bed; mission accomplished! Kimmora Lee Simmons, a rather pretentious phoney that I “viciously” slapped in the mouth several years ago—supposedly because I’m jealous and bitter about her Cabbage-Patch Face; Bread Box Shaped Body and don’t forget—her spectacularly flat ass, girdle-controlled tummy and butt pad supported photo shopped Ebony magazine layouts—started her gold digging in the African-American community, where she knew her failed Chinese model status would command top dollar. No Black officials greeted her with the words “skank” and no rappers berated her skin complexion or accused her of being a gold digger—as they did the singer Usher’s dark skinned self-employed Black millionaire wife.

Kimmora married Black hip hop Tycoon Russell Simmons, declared herself a “black woman” (as anyone in America can do at will; the Black Americans are ex-slaves and have no standards) and eventually launched a clothing line using Russell’s money he made off the Black Community (purporting this to be a “talent” in Essence Magazine); then after being dumped by Simmons for a more exotic even less Black-looking bombshell; tacked herself onto Djimon Hounsou (who, of course, I’m jealous that she stole from me; sarcasm intended). For this new gig, Kimmora had a baby despite the fact he wasn’t about to marry her—and, in my opinion anyway, dutifully produced the “lighter baby with good hair” as a holiday mascot for his skin-bleaching minions back in Benin, West Africa. Kimora is no more with Djimon


Of course—nobody in the “Hip Hop Culture” refers to women like Gary Coleman’s White wife or Kobe Bryant’s video hoochie turned wife—or Kobe Bryant’s “rape accusing” Blond in Colorado with the SPERM of three men on her panties—as “bitches, Ho’s or gold diggers.” Black men just don’t disrespect the White Man’s Mother like that.

A few years ago, Kanye West and Jamie Foxx had a huge hit with a song about Gold diggers. This caused, at last, a music video that focused on beautiful child-bearing age Black women—the Black Man’s mother. At the end of the song Kanye announced, “I’m going to leave you for a White Woman!” And all of Black America and the White Pop music world laughed, applauded, cheered and drove the song to #1 on the charts—despite the fact that almost none of today’s rich and famous Black men being exploited for their money are getting bilked by Black women.

It was a totally different reaction than Marilyn Monroe, Betty Grable and Lauren Bacall got for starring in the 1950’s gold digging blockbuster “HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE”—an all blond Hollywood celebration of beautiful women’s right to be paid “at the altar” just for being bombshells. And there’s tons of other films that cheer and celebrate the entitled White gold digger from “GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES” to Sigourney Weaver and Jennifer Love Hewitt’s affectionate comedy “GOLD DIGGERS”—to all those celebrated Larry King Live and Anna Nicole Smith tabloid weddings. Amazingly, no one ever writes songs berating these types of women for marrying ugly rich men old enough to be their ancestor.

For beautiful Black women who want to be the rich man’s bombshell wife, however, it’s a whole multitude of double and triple standards. If you study songs recorded over the years by T.I., Polow da Don, Young Berg, Dr. Dre and even Jay Z…the lightness or darkness of said Black female’s skin is what these men encourage young boys to use for measuring how soon said Black Woman is to be discarded after receiving her 2-Live-Crew inspired beast fucking. On those same CDs by artists like Polow da Don, T.I., Young Berg and even early Jay Z, you’ll find songs celebrating Mixed-race Brazilian girls; the prized “Biracial” beauty; the European Hottie—but the slutty things these women do in the lyric are related with affection and not rapped about in a contemptuous hateful manner as when the subject is a “brown girl” or “Sista girl.” Even the “Red Bone” songs are no longer complimentary. High Yellow-skinned Negro women who once denied Colorism, benefitted from it and looked their noses down at Real Black Women are now beginning to get the Dark girl treatment in lieu of the White or Mexican fantasy she was always the “stand in” for in the first place. But skanky whorish gold diggers or not, the White and White-like colored women are promoted by Black men as “wife” material.

Whatever you think about me writing this commentary; I’ve already heard it.Fuck Kola Boof?? I’ve heard it all my life. Dark skinned women like me deserve to be on the bottom of the food chain and we’re just “bitter and jealous” if we dare raise issue with the double and triple standards.

It simply isn’t true.

I’ve had the most wonderful Black Man on earth love me, marry me and give me two beautiful sons (granted, he’s not American, but he’s still a Black Man). My ex-husband became a millionaire five years after we married, and we were together for ten, so no one can claim that I was a gold digger. Additionally, I’ve dated my own share of rich and famous Black Men.

More secrets about Kola Boof as she stated on her facebook page;


1. Kola Boof was asked by producers to do a screen test for the role of STORM in the original "X-MEN" movie and declined due to the required blond hair.

2. Kola Boof is the first author since Truman Capote to be regularly impersonated by drag queens.

3. Kola Boof, according to Sudan's former Vice President Hasan Al-Turabi
is the only woman to slap Osama Bin Laden...other than Osama's mother.

4. Kola Boof holds the record for the Black woman (Wendy Williams is 2nd place) most called "Ugly" by the U.S. American press. Kola Boof has been called unattractive by reporters Connie Chung, Peter Bergen & Morgan Spurlock (*None of whom have ever met Kola Boof in person)...Kola's been called ugly in rappers Wale's song "Bad Girls Club" and featured on American magazine covers as "Ugliest Woman Alive" and called ugly
by GAWKER. **This is why Kola, a former model, has a new video blog coming in the fall.

5. Kola Boof loves "old cars" and takes autos from the 50's and 60's and restores them. Most of her cars are cherried-out old cars.


Mena says: I personally admire her because she goes where no one dares to go.

PSLAM 23 ON MY MIND

1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

11-yr-old Orphan Raped to Death

WHEN WILL THIS MADNESS STOP? WHAT ARE THE MOTIVATION BEHIND THIS MADNESS? I MEAN THIS JUST BREAKS MY HEART!!!


An 11-year-old girl, Chinecherem from Uruagu Nnewi, Anambra State who was allegedly raped by a 32-year-old son of her mistress is reportedly died.

Chinecherem, an orphan and the only surviving child of her parents, according to the source, was raped in the night by her mistress’s son on May 27, 2013 at Uruezi Egbema Ozubulu in Ekwusigo Local Government Area where she was serving as a maid.

Daily Sun was informed that on the night of the incident, the victim’s madam had travelled out leaving Chinecherem and her son to take care of the house.

“When Ifeanyi defiled her, she started bleeding in the morning. The boy disappeared after raping Chinemerem and it was his father (Ifeanyi’s father) who discovered that something was wrong in the morning and took the little girl to a hospital, where she was crying in agony, touching her private part before she gave up on June 3, 2013,” the source said.

The source said that hospital authorities confirmed that there was a lot of semen deposited in her private part. The victim was said to have lived with the family for seven years and had taken her common entrance to enter junior secondary school before she met her death.

When contacted, the Police Public Relations Officer (PPRO) of the Anambra State Police Command, Awka, Mr. Emeka Chukwuemeka confirmed the incident and said investigation was still ongoing while the suspect is still at large.

Culled from Hope for Nigeria and The Daily Sun.

COSSY FINALLY SPEAKS OUT

...in a candid interview with Ademola Olonilua.

Before I go to the interview, I just want to say I am puzzled at the sheer amount of negative articles based on this woman. Ok from the little I know of her is that,

She is very well educated (Master degree level)
She is an actress (I have seen one of her movies)
She is a musician (I have listened to two of her songs)
She has big breasts
Her outfits are usually sexy

Thats about it. So why all the negativity? She has no sex scandals, she has not stolen from anyone, neither has she killed anyone.
I think she is just a person trying to survive, just like you and I.

Anyway here is what she had to say in the interview;

Do you regard yourself as a musician or an actress?

I’m an all round entertainer. I’m an artiste, actress and also an activist.

You once said you were born again?

I never said that. I’m a sinner and have come short of the glory of God. He that is without sin should cast the first stone. My problem is that I’m too real in the midst of lots of fake people. It is by the special grace of God that people, even pastors, will make heaven. What’s the difference between I that love to show off my cleavage and the pastors that love to show off their flashy cars?

The in thing now is private jets. I think I’m better off because with the economic situation, lots of stress and all, some can channel their frustrations and some people can get relieved at the sight that makes them forget the terrible situation. But some of these church owners don’t know how to give back to the society, you don’t need to be a member before you can benefit.

Churches can just buy basic foodstuffs and give to the needy. There are a lot of ills in this society. I don’t even want to mention the corporate thieves that get patted on the back for embezzling money meant for the old and retired citizens. Next time you see such people, ask them if they are born again because I’m a sinner. I pray God will give me my heart desires because my flesh is so weak.

There are rumours of you having HIV. Is it true?

I will love to know where the rumour started, so I can sue. Also, the bloggers will write whatever they think will drive people to their sites without verifying if it’s true or not.

Like a website just cooked up a story and said that I have HIV twice and I’m afraid to have it the third time. To an educated person, such stories are more like a joke but to those that don’t know better, they may believe it. I don’t have HIV, I don’t have AIDS. That does not mean it’s a death penalty for those that have it.

But I read it somewhere that a friend close to you confirmed the story…

Well, I can come up now and say that Bill Gates is my grandfather; talk is cheap. I will like whoever that said that I have AIDS to come out publicly and say it. I don’t bite. I just need who I can show proofs to, not the public. So if you think and believe I have AIDS, just quote yourself and not base it on rumours.

My friends, the few that know me well and come to my place, are not cowards. They stand firm and fight for what they believe in. So if whoever said that can’t come out, then I don’t have who to respond to.

Why these many negative stories about you?

I’m blessed. When God has blessed you abundantly, you will surely have enemies. A lot has been said about my person. The first was when I stopped acting awhile back. Rumours went round that my father shot me. Later, it was that my father disowned me. It was published in newspapers. I later went to an event with my daddy.

He even granted an interview. We posed for pictures but that interview was not published. Maybe they want to sell an image that I’m not in good terms with my family. Well, blood is thicker than water. I’m well loved and cherished by my parents and siblings. Also, a movie I did in 2003 called Itohan and directed by Chico Ejiro made headlines in 2009. The dog issue: some mischievous persons that have access to the location pictures connived with a journalist.

They called me up about the pictures; after telling them the source, they still went ahead to write a terrible story about my person. Up till now, some people still make mention of it.

The video is online and also on my tweet page for people to watch. I’m even tired of trying to defend myself. Then this HIV story by an imaginary friend. I wonder what next. Maybe they will get someone that looks like me to act a sex movie. Whatever happens, I’m strong, I will survive because I have God’s grace and I am immensely blessed.


Talking of such films, US-based Nigeria actress and producer, Afro Candy, said she would like to feature you in one of her s3x movies.

Like I said, talk is cheap. I’ll like to have a dinner date with Richard Branson, it’s just a wishful thinking. It’s when she approaches me then I will know she is serious. I have gone through a lot, now I know better. I can’t condemn her, she is Hollywood standard when it comes to showing off her body.

The likes of Janet Jackson, Halle Berry even most of their female musicians have gone nude, and Nigerians adored them. For me, I can’t go totally nud3, never. My mum told me never to go nude. If not, I have got a beautiful body and I’m not afraid to flaunt it. Besides other artistes have taken pictures with panties and bra, maybe on the beach. So it looks cool but when you wear and pose on bed, it smells sex.

About the pictures you posted on Twitter, why did you post them only to remove them and apologies?

I took those pictures in a friend’s guesthouse. My photographer took them. I was wearing a G-string and bustier. It was an on the spot thing. I didn’t make up for the pictures and she took them with her Blackberry phone.

They were not good enough. I guess I was bored then. I can be up to no good when I’m bored and need a little distraction. So now I watch it when I’m bored; I watch what I do, so I won’t take such pictures again. Not as in looking at the pictures. I don’t have them at all.

Why did you apologies?

My friends and fans didn’t like the pictures; that’s why I apologized.

I will stop here.

Culled from Ademola Olonilua and The Punch newspapers

Please give Cossy a break, cut her some slack, chill for her matter jor, and no I dont know her in anyway, I just feel sad for her, you know what I mean?

Enjoy

Mena

(WIERD WORLD) INTRODUCING ALAN MILLER WHO CLAIMS TO BE JESUS CHRIST

The name of the man in the photograph is Alan John Miller. Miller is a former IT professional who now claims he is Jesus Christ.

He runs a religious movement known as the Divine Truth from his home in the Australian province of Queensland.

With him in the photo is his partner. Miller says the woman is Mary Magdalene and that she was present at his crucifixion.

He recalls raising his friend Lazarus from the dead.

Funny thing is that some people are buying Miller's story, hook, line and sinker.


People have left behind families and businesses in North America and Europe and relocated to Australia to be closer to Miller and his teachings. These people truly believe Miller is Jesus Christ and insist there’s nothing sinister about him or his teachings


So, will you leave everything and migrate to Australia just to follow Allan?

HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND EVERYBODY!

HOW SHE GOT OUT OF AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP:- AGREE OR DISAGREE WITH HER METHODS

She has been suffering all manner of physical and psychological abuse since getting married 4 years ago. Of course, the once loving, dark night in shining armour suddenly became a monster…not necessarily over night. For 3 years, she took these ill treatment silent-slaps, kicks at the slightest provocation. Then this fateful day, after taking all the beatings as usual, she called her elder sister. She could hardly talk on the phone. Sensing something terrible may be happening to her kid sister, the elder sister rushed down-all the way from Dolphin to Isheri ,Magodo to ascertain what the matter was. What did she see; Black eye from previous beatings, bruises, belt marks, and fallen strands from her braids-all signs from the latest beating.

Her brother in-law was so rude and was in mood to speak with her. She stepped outside, made a few calls and went back into the living room. In less than 1 hour,a Toyo...ta Bus loaded with a few young men; some i...n and other spotting military camouflage.

In summary, the brother in-law ended up in a nearby hospital and later on in Igbobi Orthopedic hospital that evening having sustained severe dislocation of his right wrist, shoulders and ankle. The elder sister of the woman in question had called her siblings-all of them boys and one of them suggested they storm there to at least teach the guy a lesson…to which the elder sister gladly and promptly approved. And what a great lesson it was.

The guy spent two weeks in the hospital-with all the bills paid by the wife’s family. While on admission, the wife’s siblings went to his place of work to secure his job and gave his employers the full report of what transpired. He got some good briefing and debriefing when he got back to work in addition to being read the Riot Act on resumption after his forced leave.

It’s been one year after .The guy seems to have learned a good albeit indelible lesson. The wife still provokes him like any human being would do to another human being. The guy still reacts, but not with his hands, legs or belts.

He has learnt to talk and express himself verbally having known the implication of doing otherwise. But do we need such treatments for men to know that it is absurd to hit their wives no matter the provocation?

Do you agree with how the situation was dealt with? If not can you suggest a better way of addressing such situations?

A QUIRKY LOOK AT THE WHORE-VIRGIN COMPLEX

Hello

So I came across these guidelines on How to get a Nigerian man to marry you

Getting a Nigerian man to marry you is the easiest thing in the world. These easy steps will get you married, bedded, bare foot and pregnant in less than a year, guaranteed or your money back.

-- Be very religious. Nigerian men loveeeee them some religious girls. you don't actually have to be, you just have to pretend that you are. talk about the night vigils you go to every now and then. slip in some Bible passages in random conversations even when they don't fit in. Give him a Bible for his birthday. call him randomly for "morning prayers". a nigerian man will marry a woman who appears to be religious. fake it till you get that ring baby girl.

-- Pretend to be maternal. Pretend that you love children so much. especially other people's children. coo at them at grocery stores, malls, lounges, planes. talk about how much you love children. carry his friends' kids all day long. offer to help feed them, pretend girl. you're auditioning to be his baby popper, act like one.

-- Don't ever mention that you're a "feminist". femi-gini? that shit don't live here miss. Fuck women rights. accept all traditional roles even when you're dating. when you are dating him, make sure his food is ready as soon as he walks through that door bitch. it doesn't matter that you're in school or you are also working like him, shit like that don't matter. you have to show your man that you can put your back into it and be that super woman who will clean, cook, pop your back in bed and still pop out those kids.

-- You gats deny all them man them. Have you ever had sex? made out with someone? ummm...you don't have to tell your nigerian man that. when you're asked your body count is 1 or 2, never more than 3 though cos you're already side stepping into whoredom. never mind that your nigerian man's count is like 54, who cares? he's only out there fucking everything in skirt so that he can impress you in bed. all of what he does is for you, you ingrate!! he's out there putting his penis in everything in other to come home and please you in bed and you have the guts to say you have a body count of more than 3? if any man claims he has slept with you, cry and swear that you know no such man. refer to rule number 1, start quoting Bible passages about how your enemies are chasing you and shit.
that whole subtracting 7 from your body count is bullshit. you only have 3 choices: 1, 2, or 3. other than that, you might as well just remain single.

-- A nigerian man has needs that only you can't meet. you have to give him some penis room. why are you being selfish? let men be men. let them have wings to fly. don't be asking him why he came home late. you smell perfume on him? be happy that some girl is keeping him moisturized and smelling all good. that's one thing you don't have to do today. Let them have some fun girl, you just want that ring on your finger don't you? relax. that diamond that you can instagram with well manicured fingers is coming.

-- Last but not least, cook up a storm!!! your man should not be going hungry. cater to his food palette girl!! if you don't cook for him some other girl will cook for him and steal him away. cook him new delicacies all day, find out how his mother used to do it, cook for his friends too. why do you want to eat in restaurant? bitch please use that money and take your arse to the grocery store and make that man some food. let him save that money he would have used to take you out on your ring darling. be wise. a stitch in time saves nine.

This is my good deed for the day. Let him who have ears, listen or something like that.

love,
Sandra Oke




And I also came across this article Female 'Purity' Is Bullshit

Everyone else on earth is as annoyed with "purity" as I am, right? The idea that there are two kinds of women—"good girls" and everyone else, and one of them is good for fucking and the other one is good for marriage and never the twain shall meet.
The first painful thing I read today was a dumb collection of dumb shit written by a dummy, entitled "Why Good Girls Have Become As Extinct As Unicorns". In it, the anonymous male author explains that modern women are disgusting sluts who deserve to be taken advantage of, so if you manage to find a "good girl" (ideally by grooming her from kindergarten onward), you should legally cleave to her and imprison her in your bungalow posthaste before some other dude snatches up "your" prize. You can always cheat on her later when she gets "boring," which she definitely will, because she's not a person, she's just a vagina. This is "the mindset of men in the 21st century." Deal with it, ladies.

The second painful thing I read today—an utterly gutting counterpoint to the first—was a speech by kidnapping and rape survivor Elizabeth Smart. Speaking at a Johns Hopkins human trafficking forum, Smart explained why she didn't try to run from her captors, or even cry for help when they took her out in public:

Smart said she "felt so dirty and so filthy" after she was raped by her captor, and she understands why someone wouldn't run "because of that alone."

Smart spoke at a Johns Hopkins human trafficking forum, saying she was raised in a religious household and recalled a school teacher who spoke once about abstinence and compared sex to chewing gum.

"I thought, 'Oh, my gosh, I'm that chewed up piece of gum, nobody re-chews a piece of gum, you throw it away.' And that's how easy it is to feel like you know longer have worth, you know longer have value," Smart said. "Why would it even be worth screaming out? Why would it even make a difference if you are rescued? Your life still has no value."

Smart's reluctance to fight for her freedom isn't the cause of her rape or her harrowing 9-month imprisonment (her captors hold those distinctions entirely), but it's possible that she might have been rescued sooner had she not been socialized to believe dangerous ideas about female virtue and worth. Smart, understandably, internalized the things she had been taught all her life: that her value was inextricable from her "purity," that a woman without value had no reason to live, and, more obliquely, that her life and her body weren't really her own anyway. So what was the point? Why live? Why fight? The myth of female purity—the idea that "good girls have become as extinct as unicorns"—could very easily have contributed to years more sexual slavery for Elizabeth Smart. Or her death.

Fuck all of that.

Girls and women, if no one has ever told you this before, or if you just have trouble believing it: you are good, you are whole, you are yours. You do not exist to please men, and your value as a human being is not contingent upon your sexual capital. "Purity" is a lie. Do not even worry about any of this garbage, because it's about as real as a fucking unicorn. And like my Nana always used to say, "Never take life advice from a grown man who believes that unicorns are 'extinct.'"

And this "good girl" shit isn't just limited to odious ding-dongs like dude-who-doesn't-know-the-difference-between-extinct-and-fucking-mythological. I know plenty of progressive, liberal, adult men who openly say they're looking for a "good girl"—who prioritize some paternalistic illusion of "self-respect" over personality and chemistry. And to those dudes, I say, HOW DO YOU NOT SEE HOW CREEPY THIS IS. Can you imagine if women went around saying they were just looking for a "good boy" and sometimes they "jokingly" scout kindergartens for promising baby virgins?!?!?! Groooooooooss!!!!!

To clear up any confusion, let's take a comprehensive look at female purity and why it is bullshit.
You Can Tell Something Is Bullshit If All of the Justifications for It Are Bullshit

Okay, guy, so why do you feel like you want/need/deserve to settle down with a "pure" woman? I'm genuinely listening.

"Oh, it's because sluts are gross."

Too vague. Do better.

"Well, their vaginas are real stretched out and big."

No.

"Ummmmm, they probably have a bunch of diseases?"

Easy fix! Setting aside the fact that plenty of women contract STIs from monogamous partners or during "safe sex," it sounds like your real problem here is with illness, not sex. So I assume you'd be fine dating a promiscuous woman who practiced safe sex and happened to be STI-free?

"No, because I want a girl who's traditional and family-oriented."

Having sex doesn't mean you don't want to have a family. It just means that you want to have sex.

"Yeah, but a slut is more likely to cheat on me."

Really? Then why do couples in the Bible Belt have such a high divorce rate?

"The devil, I guess?"

NOPE.

"I just can't stand the thought of her getting fucked by all those other guys."

So you're about to have sex with a woman you're attracted to, you really want to have sex with her, but all you can think about is her getting pounded by tons and tons of dicks? That sounds like an entirely different issue.

"No! I just mean that I struggle with the same powerlessness and insecurity that all human beings do, so as a coping mechanism I take advantage of our culture's patriarchal power structure and exorcize my feelings of worthlessness by perpetuating shame-based proprietary attitudes over women's bodies. Basically I'm obsessed with controlling women's lives because I can't control my own."

Oh, honey. I know.
Men Are Lying

Men can't actually care whether or not women are "pure," because there is no way for "purity" to be verified. It's just not a real thing, and chasing some phantom virtue for your entire life is a great way to ensure that you waste your goddamn life. By Professor Unicorn's own admission, above, even if you claim to be "pure" he will probably just assume you're lying, and even if you can somehow prove your purity he will get bored with you eventually anyway, because boner. This entire "conversation" is just an effort to rig a system in which men get to determine female worthlessness no matter the input. There is nothing you can do to be pure. Meanwhile, they get to do literally whatever they want with anyone, to anyone, at any time. The double standard is so blatant it's almost too boring to point out.

If you spend any time at all browsing body-positive Tumblrs, you'll notice that they're constantly invaded by men determined to insert their big, throbbing, veiny opinions into women's personal spaces. Queer women, fat women, women in pain, women trying to practice very basic self-care and sexual reclamation—they're all subject to unsolicited male assessment and exploited for male arousal. Women can't even escape sexualization in the context of attempting to make a statement about their own sexualization. It's relentless.

I got catcalled outside the coffee shop in the middle of writing this article—my brain mired in thoughts about purity and sexualization and objectification. A dude drove by in a car, leaned out the window, and yelled "EXCELLEEEEEENT!" (I will concede that it's possible he just mistook me for Rufus.) So what is it—am I supposed to be modest and pure, or do I become a sexual commodity as soon as I step outside in a belted muumuu and janky flip-flops? Well, the two aren't nearly as incongruous as they appear. A catcall is entirely about reminding you that you are not yours. The purity myth is entirely about reminding you that you are not yours. The fetishization of female purity in a world where catcalls are an acceptable form of communication telegraphs one thing very clearly:

"Women, stop sexualizing yourselves—that's our job, and you're taking all the fun out of it."

The sexualization of women is only appealing if it's nonconsensual. Otherwise it's "sluttiness," and sluttiness is agency and agency is threatening and so, therefore, sluttiness must equal disposability.
Women's Unhealthy Choices Are Nobody's Fucking Business

Everyone makes unhealthy choices sometimes. Life is long and complex. Everyone has sex with partners they regret, and strays out of their comfort zone for the wrong reasons, and enters into self-destructive relationships with the best intentions. But those choices are unhealthy for the person making them, not for anyone else. And those choices have no bearing whatsoever on anyone's worth as a human being. Sometimes perspective, born out of pain, can actually make life richer. Your good choices are yours and your bad choices are yours too.

Would it be better for you in the long run not to send naked pictures of yourself to a manipulative sociopath? Probably. But that's not because sending naked pictures of yourself is an inherently "bad" thing to do. Nudity isn't bad. Sex isn't bad. Nipples aren't bad. Even chastity isn't bad. Literally all of this shit is arbitrary. The only "mistake" is placing your trust in the wrong person, and the culpable one in that scenario is the person who chooses to be untrustworthy—not the victim taken in by it.

Our culture deliberately socializes women to be taken in. We condition girls (explicitly! Not even covertly!) to believe that if they're not sexually attractive, they're nothing. They're garbage. They might as well not exist. We reinforce, over and over, that their attractiveness has an expiration date, so the only thing they can do is desperately leverage that attractiveness while they can. If they resist that conditioning, we sexualize them against their will, and if they give in to that conditioning—or worse, if they are raped by a predator—we reveal the trap: Now you're a slut, and it's your fault. Now you're tainted. Now you're worse than nothing. Now you might as well not even cry out when your rapist takes you to the gas station in a wig and sunglasses.
So, Girls, Fuck All of It

If you want to. Or don't fuck any of it, if you don't want to. Fuck women. Fuck men. Fuck no one. Point is, you get to fuck what you like, when you like, and your worth is not determined by some golden ratio of extreme boner tantalization vs. minimal boner touching. BONERS ARE NOT THE BOSS OF YOU. You are the boss of you.

Blogged by Lindy West

Mena says: According to WIKI, Statistics prove that a number of men suffer from the Madonna-Whore complex. First identified by Sigmund Freud, this psychological complex is said to develop in men who see women as either saintly Madonnas or debased prostitutes. Men with this complex desire a sexual partner who has been degraded (the whore) while they cannot desire the respected partner (the Madonna). Freud wrote: "Where such men love they have no desire and where they desire they cannot love."[Clinical psychologist Uwe Hartmann, writing in 2009, stated that the complex "is still highly prevalent in today's patients"

But Where do you stand?

DEAR READERS I REGRET MARRYING MY WIFE

Dear Readers

I am a guy in my late 30’s and have been married to my wife for 4 years. We have a 2 year old son. She is a good wife and I can’t honestly say she has done me any wrong. She has a good job and we seem to be having a good life together from all appearances except that we don’t have anything in common. When we are home together, it’s almost like being with a stranger. We never have anything to talk about and we view life from different angles.

Conversely, I have some habits that I picked up over the years and can’t seem to let go of. I am a decent man and I have a well-paid job with a multi-national company, but I enjoy marijuana and prostitutes. I have successfully hidden this from my wife of 4 years but it’s such a strain leading a double life.

Before we got married, I had a relationship with this other lady whom I loved very much. We had dated for a while and were very compatible. With her, I was always myself. She knows all my habits and accommodates them well enough. We have the same views on almost everything and I have never had cause to hide anything from her.

At the time we were dating (before I got married), I noticed that she didn’t seem to be very committed to the relationship. She was very flirty and had a lot of male companions I wasn’t comfortable with. At some point, I started doubting if she loved me. All my efforts to make her calm down and pay serious attention to our relationship proved futile and I grew tired of trying. We broke up and she didn’t seem fazed at all. After some time, I met and married my wife.

About 2 years after I got married, I ran into her at a friend’s. Apparently, she had been trying to get in touch with me and had actually contacted a few mutual friends. We got talking and she was very regretful of the way our relationship ended. She asked my forgiveness for treating me shabbily, and pleaded to resume our relationship. She seemed to have calmed down. She also seemed more settled and focused.

We started dating again when I was sure she was serious and now, we are inseparable. My friends are comfortable with her; they’ve always known her and she blends in very well with us when we are on our joints. With her, I feel like a different man, a free man, a much happier man. I strongly believe she is my soul-mate.

We both wish I had not gotten married as we very much desire to get married. Now I regret marrying my wife and my resentment towards her grows every day she remains my wife and I am compelled to live my double life. I’m almost at the point where I can’t bear to be with her anymore.

I’m considering divorcing my wife and marrying this lady. I am not a happy man right now and it’s like I’m slowly losing my mind over this. I have spoken with a few friends but they are split over the matter. My resolve grows everyday but I still have some doubts.

What do you think is the best solution?

KINDLY LEND YOUR VIEWS TO THE PSYCHOSIS V SUPERSTITION DEBATE

If we apply foreign standards of Mental Health like that of UK/US to Nigeria, over 50% - 80million people - would be sanctioned under the Mental Health Act, because they regularly profess to have personal unseen enemies and spirits, attribute most natural phenomenon to supernatural, are illogical and over emotional.
Little wonder that there is a higher than average percentage of Nigerian women in UK mental facilities.
If you tell an Oyinbo doctor that somebody is 'doing you' from your village, somebody stole your destiny, your enemies are pursuing you and the usual Nigerian African Magic, the doctor will most likely inject you with some mind-bending drug and the more you try to explain African Magic the likelihood is that the dosage will increase, confining you permanently in a mental institution!"

Over the last 30 years there have been 20 studies showing that people of Caribbean and African origin have an increased risk of being treated for serious mental illnesses such as schizophrenia and mania. The increased rate is of epidemic proportions - between five and 12 times greater than for white people. And if anything, it is getting worse.

On March 31 each year, a one-day census is carried out for all Britain's psychiatric inpatients, and the results of last year's census have just been published. Of the 32,000 people in hospital, those who defined themselves as black Caribbean and black African were over-represented by three- or fourfold. But one other group stood out - those who defined themselves as "black other". The vast majority of this group are young, British-born black people, and they were 18 times more likely to be in hospital than the British average.

It is always prudent to treat statistics with caution. Hospital admission reflects not only the amount of illness in a community but also the ability of the community to cope with that illness. For instance, in highly supportive, tight-knit communities, more people are treated at home. But it is hard to believe that this increased rate is not at least in part due to a true increase in the amount of illness. This is backed up by years of research and a recent international review, which concluded that migrants are more likely to develop mental illness. But the risk is doubled in black migrants to white countries, and the risk is increased again in their children. It seems that it is not about migration alone or being black - it is about being black in a white country. The rate of serious mental illness in the Caribbean and in Africa is not high, but the rate of mental illness in Britons of Caribbean and African origin is.

You can recover from a psychotic illness, but many people have long-term problems. The cost to the individual with a psychotic illness, to their family and carers and wider society, is immense. Most sufferers are unemployed and on benefit; there is an increased risk of suicide; life expectancy is lower; and their children are more likely to develop a mental illness and be taken into care.

Though we will not be able to prevent all psychosis, we should be able to prevent some of it. We know that psychotic illnesses are associated with poverty, poor education, racism, living in a city, poor obstetric care, head injuries or brain infection when you are young, childhood trauma, family break-up, and cannabis use. We know that targeting childhood and adolescence is important.

Prevention of mental illness in black communities is the sort of complex problem that should attract a high-level government inquiry that leads to action. I am used to hearing politicians say that doing nothing is not an option. This is an area where the phrase has real meaning. The high rates of mental illness in people of Caribbean and African origin are not going to go away. If anything, their legacy will blight a generation and the impact will be felt by us all.


SO What Sayeth thou to this views?

Cheers!

Mena

p.s Oyinbo: A slang to fondly describe anyone western, or from the first world, usually caucasian.

SEXUAL ABUSE, TORTURE AND CONSEQUENCES: The story of Godwin Okpara, former player of the Paris Saint-Germain

MINOR, ADOPTED INTO A FAMILY, ADOPTED FATHER CONSTANTLY RAPED HER, ADOPTED MOTHER TORTURED AND PHYSICALLY MUTILATED HER..UNTIL SHE FELL INTO A STATE OF FUGUE...Fugue: a disturbed state of consciousness in which the one affected seems to perform acts in full awareness but upon recovery cannot recollect the acts performed..

Rape is an emotive topic for me.I do not understand rape 'humour'. No one 'deserves' to be raped. I agree that there may be people who have been abused and have taken that form as abuse as the norm. Rape is not normal. It is not any man's entitlement or birthright to rape any woman under his roof. If she is an adult and said no to any sexual intimacy, then assume she MEANS it and leave her alone. If she is a minor and have been groomed to say yes to child abuse, you deserve to be castrated.

As far as I am concerned Nigeria does not recognise Rape as a crime. And this attitude is carried on by certain Nigerian immigrants to more civilised climes. Luckily within the system they have migrated to, they are often caught and the full justice of the law is meted out to the rapists.

BBC online reported in 2008: Nigerian former football international Godwin Okpara faces 10 years in a French jail for the rape, torture and enslavement of his adopted daughter.

His wife Linda was sentenced to 15 years. The couple had denied all the charges against them. They are expected to appeal against the sentences.

The court heard that the abuse was carried out at the family home in Chatou, west of Paris.

The adopted daughter had arrived in France as a young girl in 2000.

Okpara, 35, admitted to having sex with the adopted daughter, then 13, on one occasion in 2005. But he said it was at her instigation.

The daughter testified in court that it was after discovering the pair together that Linda Okpara, 42, began mistreating her - torturing her and subjecting her to cruel sexual acts.

The adopted daughter's name is Tina Okpara, her family name is Tina Omaku. She finally wrote her experiences in a book..
Please support her, buy, read, learn from Ma vie a un prix [Broché] Tina Okpara (Auteur), Cyril Guinet (Auteur) also available on amazon.com as My Life Has a Price by Tina Opara.

She was interviewed by French Newsjournal, Lexpress, obviously in French language. I used the google translate feature to get it in English. Google Translate is not 100% perfect. ..Excerpts:

THE VICTIM: Tina was adopted in Nigeria at the age of 12 years by Godwin Okpara, former player of the Paris Saint-Germain. She published a book titled 'My life has a price' (Michel Lafon), describing the terrifying story of four years of barbaric prison.

In 2001, Tina was 12 years old when she lost her mother died in childbirth. His father, Simon wants to offer him a "better future." February 11, his daughter went to France to join the family of a man whom he has confidence, Godwin Okpara, Nigerian professional player of the Paris Saint-Germain.

Tina does not yet know the tragedies that await ...

For the family of football will be their "adopted" her slave girl. Tina works full time four young children of the couple running the household chores and sleeping on a mattress in the basement. She is deprived of all, friends, school, freedom. His "adoptive" mother, Linda, humiliates, violent and torture. The year of his 15 years, his new father, Godwin, viola for the first time. He will do daily, several times a day.

August 13, 2005, Tina finally managed to find refuge with neighbors. Three years later, Okpara respectively convicted by the court of appeal of the Hauts-de-Seine 15 and 10 years in prison for "rape, torture and enslavement." Today, the same nightmares haunt yet.

Four years after the end of your nightmare, why did you decide to write your story?

In 2007, while the trial of my foster parents had started, I had offered to tell all in a book. At the time, it was too early. I wanted to forget and have a normal life, like all people my age. Today, I need to talk. Even if to give courage to those who suffer or have suffered similar abuse. To show them that they must always fight and believe in the future.

Upon arrival at the Okpara, when did you realize that you not only would their "adopted daughter"?

Not just yet ... The first six months I kept hoping that the situation will change. Linda Okpara promised me that I will be educated during the next school year. I thought that once in school, I would not have to perform all domestic tasks she assigned me. And we moved. I realized that there was nothing for me in this new home. No room, no binder or school supplies. When I found myself at almost 13 years, lying on my mattress in the basement, I finally understood what was going to be my role.

You write in your school how you also missed more than freedom book?

Nothing makes me more pain than not being in school. That was why my father had allowed me to move with the Okparas to France. He knew that the Okpara family could afford to give me what he could not offer me, education and a future. My dream was to become a nurse. If I had been at school, maybe I would have been able to achieve.

In addition to the violence and daily humiliations that Linda Okpara makes you suffer, her husband started sexually abusing you when you were 15 years old ...

I did not think at all that this could happen. Godwin Okpara was someone I respected a lot and that my father had confidence. It is his family that my parents knew and not Linda. In addition, he was always nice to me, even if he closed his eyes to what his wife made me suffer. But the rapes began two years after my arrival in France. They then became daily. One day I asked him: "There are plenty of other girls, why me?" He told me that I was at home and outside, there was disease.

A fugue led you to the police. The police did not listen to you and summon your alleged adoptive parents. How did you feel?

I feel empty and betrayed me. At this time, I understand that my ordeal will start. When the police realized that I was the family of footballer Godwin Okpara, they did not listen. They did not even try to understand the reasons for my flight or the circumstances in which I lived. They seemed to have a certain admiration for my adoptive father and could not imagine that a person known to do such a thing.

Why not run away sooner or try your luck several times?

I knew no one. I was not allowed out except to go shopping or accompany children to school. I had to run. I had a very strict time schedule. If I do not respect, I expose myself to violence Linda. And we lived in a suburban neighborhood. It was every home. In addition, at the time, I did not speak French.

Is the day of "liberation", as you described it yourself in your book. You run away again. Neighbors come to help you. Was that when you realize that your ordeal ends?

That day, the neighbors called the police. I do not want them to do so: I was afraid of being betrayed again. But this time, the police appeared determined to investigate. One of them told me that it was his last day of work and he would not go on vacation as I will not be safe. Then they accompanied me home to get my passport and have stood up to my Godwin Okpara. There, I realized that my nightmare ended.

In 2006, when the first trial ends your tormentors, you state at the hearing: "I do not want to see ... but I do not want them to go to jail because of me." Why?

I am relieved and reassured to never have to deal with them. But one fear remains. At the time, my father was still alive. I do not want my family in Nigeria suffer retaliation because of me. Okpara were the famous people in my country. I thought they could easily pay someone to hurt my own family. And anyway, the fact that they are in prison will never erase the humiliation, beatings and rape.

During all these years, you have never ceased to write your diary, on books that you find in the house. Writing has helped you overcome this terrifying ordeal?

These books were my only friends! I could tell their everything I lived to tell the demons that were my adoptive parents. Alone did not cut me off and let me express myself. They helped me a lot.
I think about every day when I wake up and I look in the mirror. When my adoptive mother caught her husband raping me, she tortured me for revenge. Using a razor, she mutilated my vagina. She told me she was going to inflict on me a scar that I would remember all the days of my life. She was not mistaken.

In the last sentence of your book, you express the desire for a challenge, that of being a woman like any other. Today, do you think you have achieved that?

Roughly, I think. I love my job. I take care of elderly. I missed so much love and affection that I want to give to others. But I still live in a home for young workers. My goal is to succeed in having my own apartment, my own family. Above all, France has helped me through horrific times. So, I hope to someday get the French nationality. This would allow me to reuse the name of my real father, Omaku. I am ashamed to be still that of Okpara"

In August 2005, Godwin Okpara was arrested by French police on charges of raping his 13 year-old adopted daughter. He was found guilty and imprisoned in June 2007 for 10 years. His wife, Linda Okpara, accused of torture on the same person has been condemned to 15 years in jail. After the arrest of Godwin and Linda, their 4 children were placed in seperate foster care



by Franck Berteau, published 13/09/2010 at 14:00

efeMENA WISHES YOU A HAPPY MARRIED LIFE

Hello :)

Quite a number of my good friends got married recently. I am so happy for them as I am quite aware of some their 'trials' in the past. They have chosen to make this occassion private and I am respecting their wishes. But I think its fair that I dedicate a heartfelt prayer to them.




Most gracious God, we give you thanks for your tender love in sending Jesus Christ to come among us, to be born of a human mother, and to make the way of the cross to be the way of life.

We thank you, also, for consecrating the union of man and woman in his Name.

By the power of your Holy Spirit, pour out the abundance of your blessing upon this man and this woman.

Defend them from every enemy.

Lead them into all peace.

Let their love for each other be a seal upon their hearts, a mantle about their shoulders, and a crown upon their foreheads.

Bless them in their work and in their companionship; in their sleeping and in their waking; in their joys and in their sorrows; in their life and in their death.

Finally, in your mercy, bring them to that table where your saints feast for ever in your heavenly home; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever.

Amen.

Sent from a heart filled with joy

EfeMENA

Ref: Book of Common Prayer (1979)

GRAPHIC: ANOTHER OF SUCH 'ADVICE' STORIES!!

ONE LADY'S TALE
So I saw this story making the rounds in cyberville, I was so provoked that I just had to leave a comment on that thread. But I got some contrary opinions. Anyway days after I am still puzzled about the story so I decided to post it here, unedited. My opinion is just below the story, you may wish to leave yours...thanks





Kindly Read This Story: Expecially Ladies Read & Digest It. Ladies: Ladies Let Us Becareful. My name is chinwe, I am 26 years
old, I never graduated for d
university, simply coz I was
stupid and careless, on my 24th
birthday, I received a nice gift, it
was a blackberry phone, I always
wanted one, it was like a right of
passage, my ex-boyfriend got it for
me, he was a student like me, didn’t
have a job, and I really never cared
to ask as he could afford it, my
concern at that point was, yes I had
finally arrived, other girls in my
hostel had blackberries and I would
always get pissed when I heard sounds
of pings and messages coming into
their phones at all hours and I
would stare at my nokia phone and
wish I could throw it away, but half
bread they say is better than none, so
I hoped and even fasted to get a
blackberry phone, looking back now,
if I had the opportunity, I’d have a
landline with no internet activity
what so ever, anyway I got the
blackberry phone and even got free
BIS subscription, at that moment my
life was complete, no more going to
the cyber cafes to check my emails, my
face-book or twitter, I had it all at
my finger tips, life indeed was
complete, or so I thought.
Anyway, I became addicted to my
blackberry and also my social media
applications, and since I had constant
access, I quickly gained enough
followers, and especially guys, mostly
because I had a lot of erotic pictures
on my timeline, I was popular,
finally I felt I was the main girl,
everyone wanted to follow me, I
didn’t care if it was virtual, it felt
good, checking out my profile and
having well over 8,000 followers,
more than half of which were guys,
but one particular guy caught my
attention, till this day I don’t know
what made him stand out, but we got
chatty, he sent me direct messages
and I replied, he was quiet a
gentleman , and I can’t remember
him ever asking for a nude picture
unlike the rest of them, so this made
me comfortable with him, his name
was tobi, he said he was a doctor , I
didn’t have any cause to doubt him,
he had extensive knowledge and even
gave me some medical advice from
time to time, we eventually moved
from twitter to blackberry chat, we
chatted all the time, I got so
comfortable with him, I gave him my
number, and that would come to be
the biggest mistake I ever made.
Tobi called me every day, some days
he called more than once, at night he
would call and I would lay on my bed
and have phone sex with him, his
voice was so soothing, he made me do
things I never thought possible, he
had gained so much access into my
head, I realized later I had done
some very sick and twisted things
just to please him, I would take nude
pictures of myself, I would send him
videos of me touching myself in
private, and send him voice notes of
me making moaning sounds and
simulating orgasms, and all this
while we had not met, not face to face
at least, eventually I played into his
hands, I began pestering to meet him
in person, at this point I had lost my
mind, I assumed I was in-love with
him, and when my boyfriend at the
time broke up with me, I really
welcomed it, for me it meant no
more sneaking around.
Tobi eventually agreed to come to
lagos to meet me, all this while he
had made me to believe he was in
calabar, and would take time off
work to spend a weekend with me in
lagos, when I heard this I was excited,
he told me to book a reservation for
him, stating he would pay me back as
soon as he arrived and also he said
it would make him more committed
to the visit and would convince him
of my seriousness, I bought it all, he
was smart, he was cunning, and I was
stupid, oh how stupid I was. The funny
thing was I had sent him tons of
pictures, and all I had was just one
picture of him, and whenever I asked
he would claim he wanted to be sure I
loved him for him, and not for his
looks, and sheepishly
I would try to convince him of my
undying love, and would try to
appease him with nude pictures of my
body.
He eventually made it to lagos, I met
him at the hotel, he was tall,
handsome and had a wonderful
smile, he made love to me over and
over, and convinced me to spend the
night with him, I told him I couldn’t,
because I had a test the next morning,
now at this point I don’t know what
triggered his anger, don’t know if it
was because I couldn’t spend the night,
or maybe I said something else I can’t
remember saying, but whatever it
was, brought out a very ugly side of
him, he called me foul names, and
kept going on and on about how he
always knew I was cheap, and he knew
I was sleeping with other men, the
same man whom had swept me away,
slammed me on the floor, he told me
of how he had shown his friends all
my nude pictures and how they had
watched the videos and listened to
the voice notes, he told me he had
made a bet with his friends, that I
would actually pay for him to have
sex with me, just to prove how stupid
I was, well you can imagine how I felt,
I was confused and shocked, but I
attempted to regain any little
dignity I had left, and so I tried to
mouth off at him, suddenly he
punched me in the face, and I tripped
over, and hit my head on a stool.
The next thing I remember was
waking up on the bed, I was tied up,
and he was staring at me, his eyes
were dark and he had a sinister
smile on his lips, he stood up and
walked towards me ,I tried to scream
and realized my mouth was tapped,
my head was racing, the unfortunate
part was that no one knew where I
was, he turned me over, and told me
he was going to teach me a lesson, at
this point I was naked, he rapped me
from behind, and I mean my anus,
the pain was mind blowing, I
struggled, and he hit me, when he
was done he brought out a small
blade, and he looked at me for a
minute and said, this scare is going
to always serve as a reminder, for
girls like you always trying to be
more than you are, for stupid fools
like you, he put the blade to my
nipple and cut it off, and anytime I
think of it, I still feel the pain, it was
like nothing I had ever felt before, he
was calm, like he had done it a
million times, I could feel the warm
blood dripping down my mutilated
breast, tears of fear and pain
running down my face, and suddenly
he turned around again, this time
all I saw was a flash.
I don’t know how I survived it, but I
woke up in a hospital days after, well
I was awake, bt my eyes were swollen
shut, It took a couple of days for me
to open my one good eye, and realize
d damage he had done, he had
plucked out my eye, and cut my face,
he had cut my breasts up real bad,
they had to it out, like I had cancer
or something, there was no record of
who I was, coz he had taken
everything, he had taken my bag,
containing everything I had.
I was able to tell the nurses about
what I could remember, and also give
them my mum’s phone number, the
hospital felt so much pity, they
actually treated me for free, hard to
believe right?
Anyway I was taken home after weeks
at the hospital to recuperate, it was
tough, I was blind in one eye, I had
one breast and a hideous scar of my
face, talk about your sinage, he did
a number on me, how dumb was I,
sometimes I wish he had killed me,
but there are fates worse than death,
and I guess this is one of them, he was
gone without a trace, the receipt
from the hotel was in my name, so yes
he had played me from the start.
I didn’t dare go back to school, I was
sure everyone would have heard, and
I was not going to become a statistic,
so I decided to stay home, and mind
my business, besides what do I need an
education for, I’d rather stay home,
because there is no rising from this,
there is no happy ending to this
story, this is the simple ending, I was
a victim if a sexual predator, and I
let him into my life period, and I
take full responsibility for that, I
was driven by greed and lack of
morals, I allowed myself fall into an
abyss, but well saying all this doesn’t
change anything, it’s a memory I
will have to live with for the rest of
my life, well not a memory, because I
look at myself in the mirror
everyday, who would want to see a
nude picture of a woman with one
breast, one eye, and a stub.
I have decided to publish my story,
because
with the rise of social media
atrocities being committed, every
story can go a long way in saving a
life, so while you read, SHARE and
help someone back to the right path,
these internet predators are real. __ SL8.IT for Blackberry

Mena says: I take this story with a pinch of salt. I can see the creative juices are flowing to scare women. That said, this is a complete victim of a mental case, a sociopath, a narcissistic psycopath who deserves nothing less than the death penalty or the same level of violence meted out to him. Whether through BB or in a church, this sort of predators do NOT need a reason to destroy a life.

RME

RELATIONSHIPS - LONG DISTANCE DECEIT GUEST BLOGGER DR JOBEEE

DISCLAIMER - this story is an adapted version of a true account. Any similarities with other true accounts are purely co-incidental. The names used are pseudonyms and the conversations, while they may not be entirely factual, are not altogether fictional. Some of the content may be very graphic and reader discretion is advised.





Date:Sunday, June 5, 2011.

Time: 2:08 AM

Location: Houston, Texas





Lola reached for the bedside table and picked up her cell phone. She took out the phone card from her purse. She called the number, and following the instructions, she was soon dialling (as usual) that very familiar phone number. 011 234 802 345 (****). The phone rang twice and a very familar voice answered. The familiar voice belonged to Kola, Lola’s fiance. Lola was in the United States and Kola was in Nigeria. They had already started planning their wedding and the wedding date had already been fixed. It was in 5 weeks.



Lola: Hello, Kola, my darling, how are you?

Kola: I am fine Lola my honey, my sweetheart.

Lola: What’s the time over there?

Kola: You know Nigeria is 6 hours ahead of Texas. So if you tell me the time, I will just add +6, and that’s our time. It’s 8 am. I am still at home, but about to be on my way to church. We have worker’s meeting before service.

Lola: It’s 2 am and I am all alone in my apartment. I wish you were here with me...I miss you so much and I can’t wait to see you. This bed is so cold without you. In 10 weeks time I will be Mrs Kola Odesola.

Kola: I can’t wait to say ‘I do’. I can’t wait to be your husband my dear Lola Esugbemi. I can’t wait for our wedding night to finally see you.



Oh, Lola and Kola have never met. They were introduced through a mutual friend via facebook 4 months ago. They started dating 1 week after they met on facebook and they both fell in love by the 2nd week after they met (I think he fell first). They started planning the wedding around a month after they met. Let me continue from where I stopped.



Lola: I can’t wait to finally see you too. You are my knight in shining armour. You are my prince charming. You are my dream come true. You are my soulmate. I love you!

Kola: I love you too, you are everything I want. Everything I need. Everything for me.

Lola: Ummmmm....I got to go now, I need to read my bible before I go to bed.

Kola: aaah, I don’t want you to go, but I understand...I need to get dressed for church too. Bye love.



They both hung up the phone. Kola was on his bed. The naked lady by his side, who had been very quiet and still throughout the phone conversation, smiled and demanded that they go another round. They had been making love all through the night. She proceeded to touch him in his sensitive places with her hands, and.....let me stop here (we get the picture). Back in the US, Lola hung up the phone. Out of the shadows emerged three men and two ladies. She was in a room, but it was not her room. She was on a bed, but it was not her bed. She was still naked. She reached for the closest of the men - it was time for the orgy to continue.



copyright* Femi Job

June 11 2011

Mena says: While I recognise that every case is unique,I, for now, strongly do not believe in long distance relationships, for reasons that will take all day to properly enumerate

CONTROVERSIAL OPINION ON THE BOSTON MARATHON BOMBING

Here is a quick timeline for those who have not heard of it;

A pair of explosions rocked the finish line of the Boston Marathon this afternoon ... and the injuries are gruesome


12:40 PM PT -- Three people have reportedly been killed by the explosions. Dozens have reportedly been injured. Some are saying they were bombs ... but that hasn't been confirmed. There's blood everywhere.


12:59 PM PT -- Boston Marathon officials are now calling them bombs. There are reports of police responding to additional undetonated devices in the area, but nothing's confirmed. The BPD has called in all off-duty officers.


1:08 PM PT -- Police say at least two are dead and 23 are injured. The AP is reporting that two additional explosive devices have been found.


1:43 PM PT -- Reuters now saying that a fire at the JFK Library, a ways from the marathon finish line, is unrelated.

2.05 PM PT -- Authorities are scrambling ... security has been stepped up at the White House and in Times Square ... the FAA has established a no-fly zone over the scene ...


2:10 PM PT -- The number of injured has climbed into the 60s, according to several reports

2:47 PM PT -- Police are reportedly guarding a possible suspect in the hospital, where he's being treated for injuries. CBS says surveillance tape shows a man carrying backpacks into the area about 20 minutes before the blasts.


3:35 PM PT -- President Obama addressed the attacks, saying: "We still do not know who did this or why ... but make no mistake: We will get to the bottom of (this). ... Any responsible groups will feel the full weight of justice."


4:57 PM PT -- Reports of a person of interest in custody were premature, and police now say they have no suspects ... one of the victims who died was an 8-year-old ... and authorities have upped the number of injured to 130 or more.


6:00 PM PT -- Boston police are now confirming a third death.

Source:


And here is the controversial opinion (DISCLAIMER: It is not my personal opinion)

All citizens, of all empires, without exception eventually come to suffer the very violence that they have allowed their nations to carryout against others.

The Roman Empire sent its legions out to brutalize and conquer barbarian tribes, eventually the barbarians were at their gates and plundering its great cities.
The Russian Empire was drowned in a blood bath that cost the lives of millions of Russian peasants and the execution of the entire lineage of the Romanov Dynasty.
The European colonial empires sent warships and armies of conquest all over the world, only to lose millions of its own citizens in two colonial wars, we call World War One and World War Two.
The Empire of Japan was brought to an end under two atomic bombs.

The United States is the world's only remaining Imperialist Superpower. It is exhibiting all of the signs and symptoms of an aging and collapsing Imperialist State: crippling debt, overextended military forces, internal repression, social and moral decadence, extreme nationalism and demonetization of foreign nationals, a multitude of fictional and invented enemies, genocidal aggression towards national minorities, obsession with sports and gaming, emergence of right-wing nationalist groups (Tea Party Patriots), a growth of religious fundamentalism, end-times prophecy and apoplectic visions, divestment from social welfare programs and public infrastructure; the list goes on, but you get the picture.

There is not one marker for an empire in decline that is not present in the US.

So, regardless if it is coming from foreign terrorist, the militarized police, Right-wing militias, or armed street gangs; there will be more violence and repression. There will be fewer freedoms, and more restrictions on free thought and movement.

All of the violence we allow this state to impose on the Third Word is retuning, in one way or another. All of the poverty, environmental destruction, dictatorships, and wage slavery we've allowed "our" government to carryout against the Third world countries is now becoming our day-to-day reality.

The only solution is to join with the oppressed people of the world in dismantling the US Empire, to end the US military occupation of sovereign lands, and to divest from the Military Industrial Complex. We must re-localize our lives and our economies, we must humanize this entire nation.

Our oppressors will use today's bombings, just as they have used all tragedies to their advantage, to push their corrupt agenda, and to silence the voices of resistance. Don't allow them to induce fear, or to manipulate you into supporting their genocidal aggression. Stay focused on the real task as hand: Liberation.

My prayers are with the injured and with the misunderstood and with the dead...:(

Update: This is an On going story: Scores of heavily-armed police swarmed a Boston suburb today as the net tightened around an 'armed and dangerous' suspect of the marathon bombings who remained at large.

Today's stand-off followed a dramatic night in which two suspects killed MIT campus police officer Sean Collier, 26, and hurled explosives at police in a car chase and gun battle that left one of them dead and his brother on the loose.

'Suspect 2', 19-year-old Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, seen on CCTV wearing a white baseball cap, is on the run and reportedly has explosives strapped to his body.

The terrorist, dubbed 'Suspect 1' by the FBI, was Tamerlan Tsarnaev, 26. He died in hospital from gunshot wounds and possible blast injuries after a fierce gun battle in Watertown, hours after the police officer was shot dead at the nearby MIT campus.

It was revealed today Dzhokhar and Tamerlan Tsarnaev are legal immigrants who have been in the U.S., for around a decade. They come from the Russian region of Chechnya which has been plagued by an Islamic insurgency stemming from separatist wars.

The entire city of Boston is on lock down with residents warned to stay indoors, public transport shut down, taxi service suspended and a no-fly zone above the city...The 19-year-old, who attended Cambridge Rindge and Latin School, is an amateur wrestling champion who holds a Massachusetts driving license. He is a registered student at University of Massachusetts - Dartmouth. The campus was ordered closed on Friday morning.

The older brother Tamerlan attended Bunker Hill Community College and was studying to become an engineer but took a year off to pursue boxing.

He had recently been out of the country for six months and said in an interview with a Boston University student magazine in 2010: 'I don't have a single American friend. I don't understand them.'

Tamerlan was once arrested for domestic assault on a girlfriend, ABC reported.

A friend of the brothers told CNN that he had known them since 2006 and they were 'normal kids' who partied and occasionally smoked. A classmate told CBS that Dzhokhar did not have an accent and that he assumed he had always lived in the U.S.

The uncle of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev urged his nephew to turn himself in. Ruslan Tsarni of Montgomery Village in Maryland, said that the 19-year-old should give himself up and ask for forgiveness.

The father of the suspects said that his son Dzhokhar is a smart and accomplished young man. Anzor Tsarnaev spoke by telephone from the Russian city of Makhachkala on Friday.

Anzor Tsarnaev said: 'My son is a true angel. Dzhokhar is a second-year medical student in the U.S. He is such an intelligent boy. We expected him to come on holidays here.'


Click to See more

Mena