Chinaecherem

I will blow your mind

You can trade $CHZ with your local currency on @Nectar_finance

It will be obvious very soon

Today’s freelancers and crypto folks aren’t visible to the current credit rating systems. That’s why I love what @Chinaecherem is building with Nectar Fi.

We were featured in @a16zcrypto's Stablecoin Market Map of remittance and stablecoin neobanks, alongside a number of other players shaping cross-border finance. This recognition reflects what we've been building with a simple but ambitious goal: to make moving money across Africa (and beyond) as seamless as possible. We’re proud to be building in this category alongside other neobanks and fintechs pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in global payments. You can read more about it here: a16zcrypto.com/posts/article/…

Guess who’s gonna be there

@creamlyn_ The day you and this person meets IRL eh. It will be on site lmao

Honorable Speaker of Nigerian men don land!

@Grimm_0x You will see next week. NectarFi is on its way to be the only super app you need.

@Chinaecherem What are you shipping next? 👀

Less yapping, more shipping

PARTNER: Cryptonia becomes @evolutionapp_ Secures US Federal MSB License from FIncen to Power Global Citizens

Fun fact...we started building Chainrails cause we needed a solution like it for Coloniz (a socialFi app we were working on). At that point there was just Daimo and Trails, but none supported settlement to non-EVM chains. So we set out to build better. Rewriting thousands of LOCs across 3 different smart contract languages (Solidity, Cairo, Rust). Today apps can accept deposits from anywhere across crypto and fiat, and settle directly to 12+ chains including non-EVMs like Solana and Starknet in seconds. SUI, Stellar and more, incoming. Still day one:)

@NCbassey @A_Feranmi see ? No liquidity lmao

Why Bamboo? Why???? 😭

@A_Feranmi NGX does not have liquidity. That has remained the problem. If now, to offload those shares will still be P2P

If the NGX was tokenised, would it have been easier to do some P2P deals with the UBA panic sellers?

Just last week one of ours was kidnapped. Barely made it out in one piece. Now look at this shit? This country is one big crime scene and would literally kill you. Even more devastating with the deplorable state of the judiciary. Someone has to be held accountable.

@dayoz_ He is actually a shill guy

Introvert una🤣🤣🤣🤣 Baba you Dey on motion and you ignored. No rewrite story 😭😭😭😭

@A_Feranmi @Durbarman Chai my bro. You have time oh 🙂‍↔️

Thank you for asking. Personally, I think he is appalled by the environmental and structural issues in Lagos, so much that he speaks about it passionately with a conviction of wanting to see it change. That change definitely has an impact that would improve the lives of many. Is this enough to make him a governor? That’s a separate debate. But in my opinion he is obsessed with fixing those issues. Would you want to fix issues for a place you hate?

what does he love about Lagos?

@IzunnaDike Fools all of them

This woman has really embraced their vitriol with so much grace. If you’re still hating on her, ask yourself for what reasons.

@ConfusedSith Yes. Most of us (speaking for myself) wants to do better, we just might not know it all.

@Chinaecherem My management team have suggested I should write a debunking myths and telling the reality article and stop complaining on Twitter. I should consider these. Thank you.

Stablecoins and Neobank folks pretending to know about banking and payments.

You can just say anything

@angry__pacifist You will get what is coming for you

@Chinaecherem una. That fraud can't fool me. OKC belt waiting in front. 😂

AN OPEN LETTER OF APOLOGY TO MR. LEBRON RAYMONE JAMES —— Dear LeBron, I come before you today not as a fan, not as a hater, but as a sinner seeking absolution from the only man in recorded history who has ever beaten Father Time in a game of one-on-one, talked trash during it, and then signed Father Time's jersey afterward. I have wronged you, King. I have wronged you grievously. I have wronged you in group chats. I have wronged you in comment sections. I have wronged you in front of friends, that "he's not even top 5 anymore" and I watched the light leave their eyes. I have carried that sin for months. Because tonight I witnessed a SPECTACLE. Tonight I witnessed a MARVEL. Tonight I witnessed a 41-year-old man, in his 23rd professional season, in a league full of genetic freaks who were in ELEMENTARY SCHOOL when he was already an All-Star, casually stroll into Toyota Center and remind an entire generation that the throne was never vacant, we were just looking at the wrong chair. I was a doubter. Say it with me. I. Was. A. Doubter. I said "the minutes are down." I said "the burst isn't there." I said "he's a compiler now" as if compiling 40,000 points is something you can do by accident, as if I could compile a grocery list without forgetting the eggs. I watched this man drop 19-8-13 in Game 1 with EIGHT assists in the FIRST QUARTER and I said "yeah but can he score?" I watched him go 28-8-7 in Game 2, strangle Kevin Durant to three second-half points, get to the line 14 times, throw down a two-handed dunk with 55 seconds left to seal it, and become THE ONLY PLAYER OVER 40 TO LEAD A PLAYOFF RUN IN POINTS, REBOUNDS, AND ASSISTS; and I, a clown, a fool, a man with functioning eyeballs and a functioning brain refusing to speak to each other. I said "let's see Game 3." Well. I saw Game 3. Let's talk about the last 26 seconds. Let's sit with the last 26 seconds. Let's LIVE in the last 26 seconds, because I will be living there, rent-free, for the remainder of my natural life. They were up SIX. Six points. In TWENTY-SIX seconds. That is a possession and change. That is a timeout and a commercial break. That is the window between "I should order food" and "never mind I'll just eat cereal." Toyota Center was SHAKING. The crowd was on its feet. The Rockets bench was already doing that little celebratory bounce, that premature bounce, that bounce that says "we got it." Somewhere in Houston, a man was pulling a Bud Light out of the fridge. Somewhere in Houston, a woman was texting her husband "told you." Somewhere in Houston, a child was being lifted onto his father's shoulders. The building was BOOKED. The building was CLOSED. The building was, as far as every person in it was concerned, a W. And then LeBron looked at the scoreboard. And then LeBron looked at the clock. And then LeBron decided, in what I can only describe as a cosmic, galaxy-brain, Men-in-Black-neuralyzer moment, that this was not going to be how the evening ended for any of us. What followed was not basketball. It was an exorcism. It was a man methodically walking through a haunted house turning off the lights one by one. Steal. Three. Somewhere in there a pass so audacious I started shaking in a hot room. The Toyota Center crowd went from LOUDEST BUILDING IN AMERICA to a library to a funeral to one of those silent monasteries where monks take a vow and only communicate through bells. You could hear the HVAC system. You could hear a Rockets fan, three rows up, whisper "no." You could hear the ghost of Hakeem Olajuwon apologize to the city on LeBron's behalf. Twenty-six seconds. SIX POINTS. He did not close the gap. He did not tie the game. He OPENED the gap in the other direction. He took the Rockets' lead, folded it in half, folded it in half again, and put it in his pocket like a receipt he might need for taxes. The scoreboard operator had to Ctrl+Z his entire career. The broadcast director cut to Austin Reaves on the bench and Austin Reaves had the face of a man who has just seen God and is slightly annoyed he didn't get a heads up. I watched it happen. I watched it happen LIVE. I have to be honest with you, I have to be honest with myself, I have to be honest with the NBA league office, the Basketball Hall of Fame, and God Almighty: I am not okay. I have not been okay since he hit the three. Archaeologists will one day unearth my twitter post and carbon-date it to "the night LeBron did the thing." Six points. Twenty-six seconds. A team, a building, a city, a narrative: dismantled. Not beaten. DISMANTLED. Taken apart piece by piece like IKEA furniture in reverse. The Rockets did not lose that game. They were disassembled on live television and shipped back to the warehouse with a note that said "return to sender, 41-year-old in aisle." So here, formally, in writing, with my full legal name attached and a witness present, is my apology: I, Jathin Pranav Singaraju, of sound mind and recently shattered worldview, do hereby and forever APOLOGIZE to LeBron Raymone James Sr. for every slanderous, disrespectful, hot-taking, podcast-brained, Twitter-poisoned, bad-faith, Jordan-stan-adjacent, ring-culture-addled, "he had help," "he left Cleveland," "he left Cleveland again," "the Heatles," "the block was a travel," "Kawhi did it with less," "MJ went 6-0," "but the 73-win Warriors," "but the 3-1 lead," "but load management," "but the minutes restriction," "but the Lakers are a play-in team," "but he can't close anymore," "but he's a regular season guy now," "but but but" — take that I have ever uttered, thought, liked, retweeted, or silently agreed with in my heart. I renounce them. All of them. I renounce them in this life and, should the technology become available, the next. I will never doubt you again. Not in this series. Not in this playoff run. Not in this career. Not in any GOAT debate, at any bar, in any group chat, at any wedding, at any funeral, at any deposition. If you come back next year at 42 averaging a 30-point triple-double I will not be surprised. If you come back at 45 coaching yourself I will not be surprised. If you are inducted into the Hall of Fame and then UN-inducted because you are somehow still playing I will not be surprised. If you erase a six-point deficit in twenty-six seconds again next week, on a Tuesday, against a random team, for no reason, just to remind us. I will not be surprised. The bar is on the floor. The bar is underground. The bar is in the Mariana Trench. The bar has achieved enlightenment and moved on. I am sorry, King. I am so, so sorry. I was wrong. The throne was never empty. Long live the King.