Emmanuel Ocheja

Don’t say anything. Don’t explain anything. Don’t debate anybody please. Just retweet, repost and share everywhere.

@Arsenal_rep1 Arsenal

No cheating , close your eyes and type your club name Mine: Arsegwl 😌

@ADCVanguard_ D

ADC Members only. Who is your preferred aspirant. A) Atiku B) Rotimi Amaechi C) Peter Obi D) Kwankwaso.

@Omahh_11 You come call am vision……. Omah why na?

Arsenal lost 1:3 to Sporting in my vision 🥲🥲🥲 God please 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Observation!!! Whenever anyone does a tweet persuading Atiku Abubakar to step aside for Obi, or projecting obi as the best candidate with the best political clout and opportunity to dislodged Tinubu from AsoRock in 2027, or calls on the leadership of the coalition to do the right and honourable thing, his or her comment section will be flooded by APC and Tinubu supporters bantering you with curses and insults over Atiku. They will be insisting that Atiku should go for the ticket, that he shouldn't step down for obi or anyone. They will be daring Peter Obi to go into the coalition primary contest with Atiku. What is really their interest in all of these? Well their mission fron their APC WhatsApp gtoup is simple. To do everything possible so Obi must be denied the presidential ticket of the coalition, by inciting Atiku and his camp to go for it. They are also teasing Obi to go for the coalition primaries, so if the ticket is denied him, it will be over for him in 2027. Because by the new electoral act, he can not decamp into any other party to contest for primaries again, if he had contested in the coalition primaries. That will automatically take him out of the 2027 presidential race. It will be Tinubu's answered prayer that he will celebrate for long. Because his biggest nightmare is gone even before the contest. Over there in Tinubu's camp, they know Obi will never settle for anything less than a presidential ticket. That if he is intentionally or foolishly denied the pressure ticket of the coalition, and can not get any ticket from another party, his supporters will automatically handsoff from the 2027 election. They will never show interest in the election, and will not come out to vote. He Tinubu will milk that privilege, and take it as his god given advantage to win for a second time at a platter. Coalition leaders, be wise. A stitch in time saves nine. Meanwhile his Excellency Alhaji Atiku Abubakar, i join my voice with that of millions of Nigerians to persuade you to listen to the voice of reason and do the right and honourable thing. You will forever remain a statesman, a leader and a father figure to this nation if you give your blessings to Obi/Kwankwaso, to rescue this nation from Tinubu. We don't want the coalition movement to be derailed or fragmented at this moment. History and posterity will be kind to you. From a concerned citizen yarning for true change, PIDOM.

I was still bedwetting at 21 years old. My parents tried everything. They woke me up every hour at night to pee. From 3 p.m., I wasn’t allowed to drink water. I was always dehydrated… but I would still wake up to a soaked bed. Nothing worked. I sat on hot coal. Went from one church to another. Rubbed red oil on my body. Used different soaps. Took medications. Still… nothing changed. Instead, I was flogged. Insulted.Shamed. Like I was doing it on purpose. In Primary 6, I fought with my best friend. She told the whole class my secret. I was mocked every single day after that. That was the beginning of my trust issues. Till today… I struggle to trust people. As I grew older, my body developed. I had the body men wanted… but a secret I couldn’t explain. So I kept to myself. I couldn’t travel. I couldn’t go to boarding school. Out of 5 children, I was the only one left behind. My life felt different. I hated it. I prayed. I fasted. For years, I had just one prayer: “God, please make me stop bedwetting.” But nothing happened. At 21, I got admission into the university. My parents were already tired of everything… so they let me go. I was terrified. Terrified of being exposed. Terrified of disgrace in the hostel. So for 4 days… I didn’t sleep. On the 5th day, my body gave up. I slept. And for the first time in 21 years… I didn’t wet the bed. I woke up, checked… Dry. I can’t even explain the feeling. That was the happiest day of my life. Then the next day… still dry. And the next… still dry. It just stopped. Just like that. Till today, I don’t know why. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was a new environment. Or maybe… God finally said, “It’s time.” If you’re going through something you’re ashamed of… I hope this reminds you: Your story is not over yet.

To do list, get a voters card and a machete.

i prefer getting my PVC cause that way we can vote out tinubu if not we will not be afford anyone of them.

Woke up again with renewed anger. Tinubu must go!

@BigSaint_ @Omahh_11 I tire o

@Omahh_11 Na to they block una

@freshonly_ Initially I was of the opinion of don’t let them go, but the last paragraph says it all, they deserve a better life and I hope your Inlaws give it to them

When I finished NYSC and got a job at the age of 24, I saw no reason why I couldn't get married. Two years after the marriage, while I was four months pregnant, my husband had a terrible accident that took him. I gave birth to twins five months later. I was raised to be independent and despite the constant reassurance from my in laws about taking care of the kids, I never asked for anything, although when they do give, I collected. My parents in law and rest of the kids are all abroad and they promised to take my kids and I to stay closer to family. While taking most responsibility for the kids, I still harbor the fantasy of us leaving the country one day Raising the twins alone has never been easy, it was really stressful and tiring but I chose to manage. My little brother moved in with me to assist when my husband died. Eight years later, when the kids are starting to be independent, my mother in law called that we have an appointment at the embassy. I was super excited because, at last! Why did I get to the embassy and I was handed visas for just the twins and nothing for me When I got home, I asked why it was so and she said that's what they could afford for now and that subsequently, they'll work on getting me there These are people that sends money twice a year and rarely talk to the kids and I know for a fact that once they kids are there, the only way I'm getting there was if I applied myself of which I cannot afford.

jsyk if tinubu wins the next election, we won't be able to afford both so get your pvc asap!

The way Peter Obi looks out for me and every member of his team. I pray Nigerians get to experience a leader like him. Top guy fr.

Right now, Tinubu is dating me and 242 million other Nigerians by force. We're tired and we want to break up with him.

To every true Nigerian, Please Speak Up!! The INEC Chairman has been caught. APC member heading the electoral body. This is daylight robbery of our votes. Prof. Amupitan MUST resign immediately! We will not accept rigged elections in 2027! #ExposeTheBias

AN OPEN LETTER TO PETER OBI — A WORD FROM A SON OF NIGERIA On Power, Courage, and the Unfinished Business of a Nation Kio Amachree | President, Worldview International · Stockholm | April 2026 Dear Mr. Peter Obi, I owe you a confession before I offer you counsel. In the last presidential election, I supported you. Not casually — I believed in you. I watched you speak in Atlanta, and what I saw was something Nigeria has rarely produced: a man who sounded like he had actually read the brief, who understood the gravity of the office he was seeking, and who spoke to Nigerians not as subjects to be managed but as citizens deserving of respect. I was moved. I was persuaded. And I trusted a process that, as I now understand more completely than ever, was never designed to be trusted. I looked across at Bola Ahmed Tinubu — a man who, in the most charitable interpretation of his observable condition, appeared to be fighting a daily battle simply to remain upright and coherent — and I made the mistake of assuming that what was obvious to my eyes would be obvious to the outcome. I did not account sufficiently for the depth of the organised criminality arrayed against the Nigerian people. I did not account for the degree to which the machinery of power in that country has been engineered not to reflect the will of the citizenry but to override it. I switched off in disgust. I am ashamed to admit it, but I did. For a moment, I despaired. What reactivated me was not optimism. It was fury — and the particular fury of a man who was raised to believe that silence in the face of injustice is its own form of complicity. My father, Chief Godfrey Kio Jaja Amachree QC — Nigeria’s first Solicitor-General, Under-Secretary-General of the United Nations, General Gowon’s personal envoy to Washington during the Civil War, one of the architects of Rivers State — was not a gentle man. He was rigorous. He was demanding. He was, at times, difficult to love. But he built into me something I could not switch off even when I wanted to: the sense that Nigeria is not merely a country one happens to have been born into. It is a responsibility. It is a debt owed to those who came before and those who will come after. My grandfather, Chief Sekin Amachree, sat at the 1958 Constitutional Conference and the Willink Commission. These men shaped Nigeria before it was even Nigeria. I am their reflection — and as any man who has stood before a mirror knows, a reflection does not always like what it sees. But it cannot look away. Now I come to you with what I hope you will receive in the spirit in which it is offered: not as flattery, not as political alignment, but as the hard, frank counsel of one educated man to another. I was educated at Eton College — not the softened, therapeutic Eton of today, but the Eton that broke you down and rebuilt you; the Eton that fed you deliberately terrible food so that you would learn to endure discomfort without complaint; the Eton that placed you among the sons of dukes and diplomats and expected you to hold your own. The school that in its long and morally complicated history produced twenty-four British Prime Ministers — including, most recently, Boris Johnson and David Cameron. I mention those two men for a reason, Peter, and I need you to listen carefully because there is a lesson in them for you. Boris Johnson — the blond, blundering, self-consciously bumbling figure that the British public came to love and loathe in equal measure — is not what he appears. That persona is a construction, polished over years at Eton, refined at Oxford, deployed with extraordinary precision. Johnson’s great-great-grandfather was a Turkish journalist named Ali Kemal, a man of dark complexion and Muslim faith who was so critical of the Atatürk revolution that he was killed by a mob and his body dragged through the streets of Istanbul. His family fled to England during the First World War — on the wrong side of the conflict, since the Ottomans had fought with the Axis against Britain — and his widow, terrified of persecution, changed the family name to Johnson. A safe, plain, English name. Over generations, the Turkish identity dissolved. The grandson of that terrified widow became the Foreign Secretary and then the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. I am not telling you this to diminish Johnson. I am telling you this because it is the greatest lesson Eton teaches, though it never states it plainly: the surface is a weapon. The carefully constructed persona — the apparent bumbling, the Latin quotations, the self-deprecating humour — was armour and ammunition simultaneously. While his opponents were laughing at him, he was outmanoeuvring them. David Cameron, by contrast, came from genuine money and genuine breeding. He had no need to construct anything. He was charming, handsome, instinctively confident, loved his Bob Marley, smoked his weed at school, was caught — and was not expelled, because Eton looked at him and saw a future Prime Minister, which is precisely what he became. Two very different men. Both utterly ruthless. Both winners. The lesson I am drawing for you is this: you must stop campaigning like a man who is trying not to offend anyone, and start campaigning like a man who intends to win. Nigeria in 2027 is not a debating competition. It is a knife fight. And a knife fight is not won by the man who is most correct — it is won by the man who is most prepared to use what is in his hand. Let me now speak plainly about Bola Ahmed Tinubu, because plainness is what this moment demands. In my considered assessment — and I do not use such language lightly — Tinubu represents the most comprehensively corrupt political figure to have occupied the highest office in Nigeria’s troubled history. That is not rhetoric. That is a conclusion drawn from evidence that is now, in significant part, part of the public international record. There is the matter of the United States federal narcotics investigation — the case that cost him his forfeited funds in Chicago and that lies at the core of the FBI and DEA files that a United States federal court, under Judge Beryl Howell, has ordered released. Those files, due by June of this year, may well constitute the most consequential document release in the history of Nigerian political accountability. The man currently sitting in Aso Rock has a documented relationship with American federal law enforcement that has never been honestly reckoned with by the Nigerian political establishment or the Nigerian press. And then there is Gilbert Chagoury. Let us be precise: Chagoury is a man convicted in Switzerland of money laundering and reported by American intelligence as having financed Hezbollah. He is also the man to whom Tinubu’s administration has directed billions of dollars in no-tender infrastructure contracts — including the controversial Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway — without competitive bid, without transparency, without the basic procedural safeguards that any functioning government owes its people. The relationship between Tinubu and Chagoury is not incidental. It is structural. It is the architecture of how power and money move in this administration. And then there is the son. Seyi Tinubu. A young man installed on corporate boards, positioned as a conduit for the family’s accumulation of influence, presented to the public through the cynical theatre of rice distributions to the poor while billions are being distributed to the connected. He is not a peripheral figure. He is the succession plan. He is also, for your purposes, the most humanly comprehensible point of attack — because nothing angers ordinary Nigerians more than watching a president’s son live like a king while they cannot afford to eat. Peter, here is my direct counsel to you. Stop being careful. The time for careful has passed. These are not normal political adversaries operating within a normal political system. These are people who have weaponised the state, corrupted the judiciary, terrified the press, and enriched themselves beyond any defensible measure while the Nigerian naira has collapsed and ordinary families have been reduced to desperate improvisation simply to survive. You are not going to defeat them by being measured. You are going to defeat them by being relentless. Make the Chagoury contracts the centrepiece of your campaign. Demand accountability for every naira. Make Nigerians understand not just that money has been stolen — they already know money has been stolen, they have always known — but where it has gone, into whose hands, and at whose instruction. Make the connection between the billions flowing to Chagoury’s companies and the intelligence reports linking Chagoury’s network to Hezbollah financing. Ask the question publicly and loudly: are Nigerian state funds being used to finance terrorism? Ask it until you get an answer. I write this from Stockholm. I cannot vote. I cannot march. I am a Swedish citizen of Ijaw and Niger Delta royal lineage, a diaspora voice, a man who has slept in palaces and on floors and worked on Wall Street and in the City of London and in the Nigerian National Assembly and in the boiling heart of African civic struggle. I have no party. I have no financial interest. What I have is a name, a history, and a conscience that my father — for all his severity — programmed to be incapable of looking away. I pray that the United States releases those FBI and DEA files on schedule. I pray that the Central Intelligence Agency, which has long maintained its own complex relationship with Tinubu, makes the calculation that he has become more liability than asset — particularly as the Chagoury-Hezbollah nexus moves from allegation toward documented fact in international law enforcement circles. These are not fantasies. These are live proceedings in active jurisdictions. Nigeria does not need saving — that framing is too passive, and it places too much burden on a single individual. Nigeria needs someone willing to fight for it with the same ferocity that those who have looted it have fought to keep it. My grandfather helped write the terms of this nation’s existence. My father spent his life in its service. I have spent mine trying to honour them both while finding my own voice in a world that did not always make room for it easily. I am offering you that voice. The counsel of an Old Etonian who was taught not how to be a gentleman — though that too — but how empires are built, how power actually functions, and why the most dangerous man in any room is often the one who appears least threatening. I am offering you the analytical framework of a man who has studied Nigerian politics from the inside and from the outside, who understands the diaspora, who understands the international legal architecture that can be brought to bear, and who believes, despite everything, that this fight is still winnable. Go for the jugular, Peter. Do it with evidence. Do it with precision. Do it with the controlled fury of a man who has genuinely reckoned with what is at stake. Cast away the niceties — they have cost you enough already. Nigeria is watching. The diaspora is watching. And the dead — among them the men whose names I carry — are watching too. I wish you strength, clarity, and the wisdom to know that in this particular fight, mercy extended to the wrong people is simply cruelty extended to the right ones. Go well. And go hard. Kio Amachree President, Worldview International Stockholm, Kingdom of Sweden Son of Chief Godfrey Kio Jaja Amachree QC, Nigeria’s First Solicitor-General

I still believe Arsenal will win this league… against all odds. The same way I believe Nigeria will be great again. Faith no be noise… na vision.

Transparent presidents are unarguably the best for citizens of Nigeria. Unfortunately, Tinubu is not a transparent president and he needs to gooooo.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT! ADC Convention accreditation has started. Kindly proceed to the Rainbow Event Marquee Center & pick your accreditation cards NOW!!! Retweet aggressively. #ADCConvention2026

If this shows up on your timeline, please repost so she can get the help she needs. 🥹