Omotayo🦋

Dear Twitter, I'm a fashion designer/tailor, specialized in both natives and English wears, you can trust us with your dinner gowns too. We sow and deliver anywhere. Pls, do retweet my customer is on your TL

@Sirfave001 @OmolewaAbraham @Opeyemi_Nitemi Yes, I am a female, next?

@teewai113 @OmolewaAbraham @Opeyemi_Nitemi You did just know it’s a female behind this account

Funke Akindele?

@funmilebaje @OmolewaAbraham @Opeyemi_Nitemi Are you mad?

@teewai113 @OmolewaAbraham @Opeyemi_Nitemi Are you dumb?

@OmolewaAbraham @Opeyemi_Nitemi Funke can choose but, has she???

@Opeyemi_Nitemi Well, I’m responding to her tweet. No media group was inviting Frank to specifically drop marital advices. Funke can choose to drop advices on X too

@TaoFeek182 Now you’re talking

Oh! Sorry guys, I wouldn’t know rams were sold for that amount.. I’ll be 22 in July abeg 😭🤲🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿

There was never a time Ileya ram was sold for 45k, not even 70k. Unless na baby ram 😭😂😂

Girl to girl: My mom, your mom, our moms will never be replaced on our happy day 🥹❤️ Happy Mother’s Day to all the amazing mothers out there

Happy Mother’s Day to every woman nurturing with love, strength, and patience. May God bless you with good health, peace of mind, and joy that never runs dry🙏

@moemudi01 @Akinjoshua2017 Just pap no sugar? Review in how many weeks

@teewai113 @Akinjoshua2017 This one is different

Drink Pap on empty stomach for 1 month, all your fàt will move to your bûmbûm.

Exactly 20 days to Ileya 🤍✨ What are you wearing for Eid? Don’t wait till last minute o 😌 Fine Adire & Kampala boubou is available. Soft, classy, and perfect for that Ileya slay😁

May you never lag behind when your mates are doing well in life.🙏

Best in retweeting everything that resonates with meeeeee 😭😂

@Alameen___Abba Where the story first get flaw na ‘small needle’

I donated blood for the first time. It felt normal. Quick form, small needle, juice and biscuits after. The nurse smiled and said, “You saved a life today.” I went home feeling oddly proud. Two weeks later, I got a call from the hospital. Unknown number. “Hello, is this you?” “Yes.” “This is the hospital. We need you to come back in.” I asked why. There was a pause. “It wasn’t your blood type after all.” That didn’t make sense. They tested me before collecting anything. I told them that. Another pause. Then: “Just come in. Please.” Something in her voice felt off. I almost ignored it. But curiosity got me again. When I got there, the place felt… quieter than before. Same building, same reception, but fewer people. Less noise. They didn’t let me sit in the waiting area. A nurse came out almost immediately and said, “Follow me.” No small talk. No explanation. She led me to a room I hadn’t seen before. Inside were two doctors. They didn’t introduce themselves. One of them just asked, “Have you felt anything unusual since your last visit?” I shook my head. “Dizziness? Weakness? Strange dreams?” That last one made me hesitate. I had been having dreams. Vivid ones. But I brushed it off. They exchanged a look. Then one of them slid a file toward me. “Your blood,” he said, “doesn’t match any type we have on record.” I laughed a little. “That’s not possible.” He didn’t laugh back. “We ran it three times. Same result.” I felt my chest tighten. “What does that mean?” He leaned forward slightly. “It means… whatever we took from you two weeks ago…” He paused. “…wasn’t supposed to be in a human body.” Silence filled the room. Then I asked the only thing that came to my mind: “So… what did you give to the patient?” They looked at each other again. And one of them said quietly: “That’s why we called you back.”

Hello Monday 👋🥰

Platonically I attract such amazing people! The most amazing people in fact. Romantically is where it goes south.

I was 21. NYSC posting: a village clinic in Osun. No light. No water. Just me, a matron in her 60s, and women who walked 3 hours for antenatal. Day 1, a 16 year old girl came in bleeding and pregnant. Her 40-year old husband said, “It’s normal. First baby always hard.” Matron took one look at me and said, “Corper, you go learn today.” We had no ultrasound or blood bank. Just gloves, faith, and a torchlight I held with my mouth while Matron’s hands disappeared inside that child. For 6 hours we fought. The girl was slipping. Matron prayed in Igala and English. I cried, thinking, “This is why I wanted to japa.” 😂 Then the baby’s cry came; a small, angry boy, alive. The 14-year-old whispered, “Aunty, thank you for not running.” 😭 Covered in blood and sweat, Matron said: “You think this work na for money? This work na for the girls who don’t know their own worth yet. You stay. You fight. You stubborn. Because if we no stubborn, who go be stubborn for them?” That was 5 years ago. Today I’m a doctor in Lagos with a clinic in Abule Egba. Every girl who comes in with “normal period pain” that’s been killing her for years reminds me of that torchlight and Matron’s hands. I get stubborn. I’ve diagnosed 47 cases of advanced PID this year, done 12 fibroid surgeries, and caught 3 girls early before their wombs got damaged. Ladies, my message is simple: 1. “Normal” pain that stops your school, work, or life? It’s NOT normal. 2. Your body is not “village people.” It’s biology. Test it. Scan it. Know it. 3. Be stubborn about your health. The world will call you dramatic. Be dramatic and alive. That matron died 2 years ago, but her stubbornness lives in every girl I refuse to let die quietly.

You have to learn how to keep moving regardless of what happens. Also don’t ever shrink yourself just to keep familiar faces close by..

Very rude of my soulmate to keep me waiting .

Someone could be online posting regular stuff while dealing with the worst season of their lives. Be kind always.

Ori mi ain’t gonna buru 🤲

Mo kan je omo kan to strong ni, country yii fe pa mi.