Kingsley Okeke @kingsleychi

I was negotiating the price of bananas with a woman selling fruits by the roadside. She was hesitant about her price of 2000 naira, and I was trying to bring it down to 1000 naira. Just as we were going back and forth, a young lady approached the table, picked up a few avocados, and started shaking them near her ear. Satisfied with whatever sound she heard, she asked the woman about the price. The woman pointed out that three avocados were selling for 500 naira.

The young lady then offered 300 naira, saying they didn′t seem ripe. I was a bit surprised by this, knowing the avocados were mature based on their size and texture. I decided to chip in, telling her that the lack of sound from the seed doesn′t determine an avocado′s maturity. She gave me a rather nasty look and asked if I knew how to preserve avocados so they don′t spoil.

I explained that mature avocados soften over time, unlike immature ones which spoil quickly. Instead of appreciation, she mimicked my words and gave me another disapproving look. That was it for me - I lost every sort of respect that I had for her, all her subsequent responses where met with silence.
This incident made me realize how some people don′t consider the impact of their behavior on others.

two women presented their cakes to me. One had a sign saying three hundred naira, while the other was selling hers for five hundred naira. What caught my attention was that the cakes were the same size, and they were even selling from the same row of stalls, right next to each other. I was curious about the price difference, so I asked the first woman why her cake was priced lower than the one next to her. She quickly said she didn′t know, but her facial expression told me she was hiding something.

I decided to ask the second woman, the one selling at five hundred naira, why her cake was pricier. She told me that she didn′t use yeast to make her dough rise, so the cake was denser and more filling. She emphasized that what you saw was what you got - no artificial additives or fillers, just natural ingredients.

I was torn. Who wouldn′t want to save money and get the same size cake for less? But then again, maybe there was a difference. I wanted to test them out, especially since I was planning to buy five cakes for my siblings. I decided to buy one cake from each of them.

As I broke into the cakes, the difference was clear. The five hundred naira cake was rich, flavorful, and had a great texture. You could taste the milk, eggs, and other quality ingredients. The three hundred naira cake, on the other hand, felt hollow and lacked the same depth of flavor. It was like they were using cheaper ingredients and adding fillers to make up for it.

In the end, I went with the five hundred naira seller and bought more cakes from her. It was clear that the extra money was worth it for the quality she was offering.

My friend was scrolling through a WhatsApp page when he found a profile picture of a girl that looked very pretty. He said he was immediately attracted to her and thought it would be nice to say hi. Before messaging her, he had already commended her beauty in a WhatsApp group chat where she was active. He then privately messaged her to get to know her better.

Their conversation was going smoothly; he had commended her beauty, and they were exchanging information. But things took a turn when he saw messages in the group chat tagging him, saying he did not need to commend her beauty because everything he saw was AI-generated. Many in the group said they had advised her to use her natural picture, but she had been using AI-manipulated photos for a long time, and so much that she has lost confidence in her natural face. She had no real picture of herself. My friend had not engaged in the group chat when these people spoke about her, but when he tried to converse with her privately again, she was not responding. She had seen the messages on the group chat and avoided him.

He questioned why she would use unrealistic pictures. “AI should enhance, not change faces entirely,“ he thought. Enhance backgrounds or add filters, but changing one′s face is not right.

We were chillin′ at the park when this foreign-looking guy walked in, looking super confused and out of place. He approached us where I was sitting with my friend, and I heard him say “Josui, Josui“ in French. I picked up on it instantly, but my friend just looked bewildered. I leaned in, like, “What′s up, man?“

The guy started speaking French, kinda fast, and I wasn′t catching everything, but I didn′t say anything. I wanted to see my friend′s reaction first. When the guy finished, my friend threw his hands up and was spoke loudly, “Dude, we don′t speak French. Go ask someone else.“ The guy looked even more confused, probably because he only caught a bit of English.

He mentioned “desoul“ and began to retreat. I realized he was trying to say “l am sorry“ (that′s “soul“ in French, btw). I called out to him, “Vien“ (meaning “come“ in French), and said, “I can understand a bit.“ (Je compré petite)

Turns out, the guy was looking for a tall black man who worked in a container structure behind the library. I asked him to repeat slowly, demonstrating with my hands, and he explained again. I got it, pointed him the way, and showed him how to get there. He was super thankful, probably because he had tried to explain to others but they weren′t been helpful.

When he left, my friend was like, “Since when do you speak French?“ I said, “I don′t, really. Just some basics from secondary school. Managed to piece it together.“ My friend looked impressed for the entire day he just continued to stare at me like I was one fallen God.

I have been having troubles washing on weekends, especially on Saturdays and Sundays. Most of my Sunday is occupied because of church programs and various things we do, so I′m not usually at home.
On Saturdays, all the lines to hang clothes are usually filled up. People wake up around even 5-6 AM to wash and hang clothes. I′m not lazy, I′ve thought about waking up early too, but I don′t miss workouts on Saturdays. By the time I return from the workout, all the lines are taken.

I′ve been battling this for long, it really weakens me. One time, I bought a rope, a very long rope, to use in place of a cloth line. I came back home that same Saturday, found a place to knot the lines across the compound, and went inside to pack my clothes.

I spent some time sorting clothes, arranging things, and when I came out, the line was filled with cloth. Somebody had spread their cloth on my line. I was disappointed, I wanted to outburst, but I slowed down and asked the lady nearby to come pick her clothes. She didn′t hesitate, probably she had seen me tying the line. She picked all her clothes without a word, and I washed and spread mine comfortably, some girls with their wahala.

A fight broke out around our office area, so we went out to see what was happening. We discovered it was a neighboring office - a friendly consultant next to us - having an altercation with some customers. I ran across to see what was happening, wanting to understand why my peaceful neighbors were fighting in broad daylight. It wasn′t good for business or social relationships.

The argument turned into punches. I held one of my guys; he was vibrating with energy, full of tension, ready to fight. The customers had backups. I asked what the problem was, but no one would calm down to explain.

Then, one of the customer′s backups came up with a bottle. A fight with a bottle wasn′t fair; I hadn′t thought it would get to that point. But the mumu swung the empty bottle, and my friend dodged it. Since I was holding him back, the bottle grazed my head, near my hair. It almost hit my head.
I shouted Jesus at once and the angel of God whispered to me “leave him and run“.

Realizing I could′ve been a victim in something that didn′t concern me, I withdrew. My friend was saying “help me tackle this guy“, but I was already two meters away, watching from a distance.
I was safe I can′t partake in taking wounds or pain. I only wanted to deescalate the fight, not have the de-escalate my head from my neck.

We had been discussing a group outing to a resort center to have a good time after a stressful semester. I grouped up with three of my friends, and we decided to go to this particular resort around the corner and just chill. We mainly wanted to cool off in their swimming pool, so we made all the necessary investigations and asked about prices and how things were done. It seemed like the perfect spot.

On the particular day we arrived, I was there with my swimsuit in my bag. Just when we had eaten some chops, fries, and snacks and were about to go swimming, two of our female friends explained that they didn’t come with swimsuits. They had forgotten it and suggested we all skip the swimming part of the fun ( something we had paid for).

I trusted Marvin, my good close friend. Because the females were “misbehaving” (as in, they forgot their swimsuits and wants us who remembered ours not to have fun). Swimming was the main purpose of the cool-off we had organized, and we couldn’t miss it just because two other girls were forgetful.
Before they said any other discouraging words, Marvins and I had already found ourselves in the pool.

You guys might not know this, but there are some traditional beliefs that say water left in a bucket under the sun and then used for bathing nourishes the skin and even improves health. That wasn’t my reason, though. I left my bucket of water under the sun that day simply because I wanted it to warm up a little. I always felt uncomfortable taking a bath with cold water, so I preferred it warmed by the sun.

I left the bucket outside and went to lecture. When I returned, the weather had become cool because it had drizzled a little while I was out. Still, I took the bucket of water and bathed with it. Afterward, I applied my usual cream and was about to rest when suddenly my skin began to itch intensely. It felt like ants were crawling all over me, and I was scratching myself nonstop. Before long, rashes appeared, and the itching became unbearable.

I had to go to the nearest clinic. When I arrived, they asked if I had eaten something I might be allergic to, but I hadn’t eaten anything that afternoon. They asked about the cream I used, but I’d been using it for a long time without any problem, so that wasn’t the cause either. Finally, they asked about the water I used for bathing. I told them it was clean, from my house’s pipeline. Then I added that I had left the water under the sun to warm up, and that it had rained while the bucket was still outside.

Immediately, the health attendant pointed out the likely problem: the rainwater. He explained that rain can contain acidic components, and since my bucket was left outside, it probably mixed with the rainwater. I knew rain could be acidic, but I’d never reacted like this before, even when using rainwater back in the village. He said this time it was different, and that was probably what caused my skin irritation.

After getting treatment and medication, I’ve been avoiding using rainwater for bathing ever since.

Very funny how some human beings make decisions, and sometimes I′m bothered by just how people think. So, our working space was already paid for in full during the start of the new year. We had paid and renewed, and with a very good and strong relationship, we sealed the deal with the landlord.

Fast forward to two weeks ago, suddenly we received a letter in our office desk. It was inscribed that we were given an extra two weeks to vacate the premises - our working space. Not just us, our working space. We had been occupying this space for over three years now, and you know how position affects business. Any sudden change in position of business location could either lead to the crumbling of the business or a miraculous turnover.

However, we went ahead to fix a meeting with the landlord, and while we conversed, we realized that it wasn′t in bad terms that he asked us to vacate the premises, but rather he was handing over the property to the church for some private, confidential use. And he mentioned that he would be refunding us in full.

I thought that my boss would still be displeased about that, but I noticed later on that he was happy already. He had seen a space that he was wanting to move into the next year if it was still available, and that was the best option. They had better prices; in fact, about 30% off the price that he paid for the building that we were about to vacate.

But then I asked myself, what if he didn′t have this space already planned out? What would have been his fate? And then I asked him, how about changing locations? Wouldn′t that affect our business? But then he was confident. This was because majorly, a high rate of our customers was virtual. Yes, real estate in modern times is now almost hundred percent virtual, so we wouldn′t be much affected.

We had moved into the new location, and everything is still going very nicely and well, almost even more nicely.