HotKek

It cost $0.00 to retweet

“But she was a hook up girl” As per hook up girls deserve death. The kind of culture wizgbarab and his breed of incels are breeding.

Even when Nigerians see someone ( a woman) showing signs of mental distress, their first thought is “olosho wey yahoo boy don use” a society that is bound to fail.

Dummies. Every single one of them.

@Naseeba_G @ofobidiojochide …or by none.

God please help to never do this to any man who didn’t marry me cos it’s not worth it 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭he went and impregnated another girl as I was baking him scones

@Seunfunmi_mi Lovely pink top by the way.. need 1.

I pity guys that will marry all these girls born from year 2000 upward.

he come across him birth certificate as he dey do sunday cleaning 😂😂

His presence is as useless as his absence. If he likes let him visit the Moon

Sometimes God delays your blessings because you need the experiences, lessons, and strength required to handle them when they finally come.

I think it’s for the best.. so people don’t mistake it for APC on the ballot paper.

JUST IN: Peter Obi resigns from ADC

@kevwe_od You forgot “Proud” lol… you eventually get used to the tags lol.

As a quiet person, I’ve learned to give grace to other quiet/introverted people. It surprises me how often people assume the worst in response to you just existing in your natural state. “Rude,” “arrogant,” “standoffish,” etc. Haba. Calm down, I’m just in my own head a lot.

What the Uterus/Womb looks like:

This is what genuinely scares me about liking someone in this generation… it’s not even heartbreak anymore, it’s the lack of sincerity. Everything feels temporary, everything feels unserious, and nobody is even trying to hide it. People don’t court anymore, they just “vibe.” It’s attention without intention, feelings without commitment, and communication without consistency. You can talk to someone every day and still not know where you stand, and somehow that has become normal. What’s even worse is how people are adjusting to it. Girls are learning to hold back, to act nonchalant, to pretend they don’t care as much just to protect themselves. Nobody wants to look “too soft” or “too available” anymore, so real feelings are being watered down just to survive modern dating. But the truth is, some of us are still real lovers. We still value effort, reassurance, and being chosen clearly. And it’s exhausting trying to exist like that in a generation that treats love like a game. I can like you, but I’m not willing to be made a mockery of. I’m not built for confusion, inconsistency, or half love. I honestly feel bad for people who love deeply in a time where depth is becoming rare.

🚨: Chinese biologist Hongmei Wang seeks to extend women's fertile life by making menstruation occur every 3 months. Which would theoretically preserve more eggs and extend the fertile period.

My father's best friend was a man called Uncle Bayo who disappeared from our lives without explanation. I was 12 the last time I saw him. He came to our flat in Gbagada, argued with my father in the bedroom for an hour, and walked out without saying goodbye to me. My father never spoke his name again. Neither did my mother. Uncle Bayo became a silence with a shape. Twenty-six years passed. I was in Philadelphia for a conference. A networking dinner at a hotel downtown. Across the room, a man about my father's age caught my eye and held it too long. He approached me during dessert and said my surname like it was a question he already knew the answer to. We sat in the hotel lobby until 2am. He told me the story my father never did. They had started a construction company together in the early 90s. It had failed because of a contract dispute with a senator. The senator had paid only half the money and refused the rest. The debt had crushed them. Uncle Bayo had blamed my father for trusting the senator. My father had blamed Uncle Bayo for not reading the fine print. The friendship had shattered. Two men who had been closer than brothers had become strangers over something neither of them could control. Uncle Bayo had moved to America after the falling out. He had built a new life, a new business, a small contracting firm in West Philly. He had married a Ghanaian woman and had two daughters. He had never returned to Nigeria. He had never called my father. He had assumed the silence was mutual. I asked why he approached me now. He said he recognised my face because I looked like my father at 30. He said he had been waiting for decades to see that face again, to explain something that was never about betrayal. He said the argument had been about shame, not money. Both men had felt they failed each other. Neither had known how to say it. I called my father from the hotel room. It was 3am in Lagos. He answered on the second ring, voice thick with sleep and alarm. I told him who I was sitting with. The line went quiet. Then my father did something I had never heard him do. He cried. Not softly. The kind of crying that comes from a place words cannot reach. Uncle Bayo flew to Lagos 3 months later. They met at the same flat in Gbagada. They sat in the same living room where the argument had happened. They didn't re-litigate the past. They just sat together, two old men with white hair and matching hypertension medication, and let the silence heal. My father died last year. Uncle Bayo spoke at the funeral. He said the greatest thief in life is not money or failure. It is the belief that there is always more time. Call them. The debt is not theirs. It is yours.

The vagina can push out a 3.5kg baby and you think it's your 3 inches dick that'll expand it Fool Please request community notes.

@ellaaaaaarrr 😅

Gay people rely on straight people to produce more gay people.

Men don't cross oceans for their 'soulmate'. They marry the woman who's already in their daily orbit when they are ready to settle down.