THE POWER OF CHEWING YOUR WORDS- Read How Ma Stella best describes vengeful reactions.

Have you ever been bewildered when a friend, boss in the office, parent, spouse, colleague or sibling said something really upsetting, unkind, cruel and hurtful? Or did you get an attitude from someone, even when there was no underlying problem between you and the person? 

Did you roll your eyes and wonder.😊😊😊 Dahh! Where on earth did that come from? Or did you say, wetin dey pepper this person for body sef? Hahaha! 

Anyway, truth be told, it is mostly damaged, sad, heartbroken and hurting people that stop at nothing to offend and hurt others with their words and actions. The next occasion, someone says spiteful words to your face, in the absence or presence of underlying disagreements, just understand that their words and actions have deep roots, emanating from a place of bitterness, pain, anger and frustration. They do it on purpose, to feel good about themselves and ignorantly or unconsciously, sometimes.

Consequently, its often a natural response for us to match spiteful words for same, hurtful words for hurtful words and action for action. It is absolutely natural to feel wounded and vengeful or strike back like a wounded lion, get caught up in the reactions and even go overboard in response to people's action.  

On the other hand, as a rule of thumb, among other things to do, you can choose your words carefully, by pausing before you speak. My mother calls it THE POWER OF CHEWING YOUR WORDS

. It’s been saving life since nineteen gbegede😁😁😁😁😊😊😊. Whoever guards his mouth preserves his life. This way, you remain a champion and conquer the power of self by placing value on them and telling them who is more mature.  

Remember the saying, in the garden of your life, you have to pull some weeds, sure, but mainly focus on planting flowers.

Truely yours!

MARRIAGE OR SEX 2- Ada is at the verge of making a grievous mistake.

"Why are you angry?" Kene asked immediately Ada came out of the bathroom.

"Nothing." Ada kept a straight face. She had concluded while in the bathroom that she wasn't going to complain about Kene's quick ejaculation again. So many things were running through her mind as she was feeling horny badly, but she managed to take her bath though she spent more time in between her legs. 

She was good and felt relieved, any temptation from Kene wouldn't be good for her. She prayed  he wouldn't want another round. 

Kene knew that Ada loved sleeping naked, but he was surprised when how she girded up for bed. 

"I don't want to oversleep, in this, I'm sure I won't." Ada replied almost immediately like she was expecting the question when Kene inquired to clear his doubt. 

Kene knew that Ada always went to restock her boutique or their kitchen most thursdays, so love making was always less on Wednesday night or early hours on Thursdays. But that day was different. Only Ada knew it was one of her free Thursdays to sleep and catch some rest. She didn't tell Kene, who could take advantage to want more sex. 

The next day, Ada was obviously transferring aggression on her sales girl in her boutique. She shouted at every slightest thing or mistake that it drew attentions of her neighbors. Her closest friend in the plaza, Bola, was one of them. Later in the afternoon before her customers of manicure and pedicure started trooping into her shop, she went to see Ada in her shop. 

"You've not been too happy these days. Are you having issues at home?" Bola looked straight into Ada's eyes.

"It would have been better if I enjoy good sex." Ada folded the sides of her mouth feeling pity for herself. 

Bola chuckled. She met Ada's gaze which was filled with so many questions. 

"Welcome to the league, Ada!" This time, Bola laughed out loud. "You see..." she continued. "... From research, it has been proven that men take in a lot of nonsense into their body as food which are toxins. They affect so many things, most of which concerns us as their wives, is their performance in bed. It's frustrating I swear, Ada."

"So frustrating." Ada responded with a bitter tune. "How did you handle yours Bola?"

"Handle?" she giggled. "I provided myself with two options. I got myself didlo and later hot a younger boy whenever I need that manly touch."

Ada exclaimed. She vehemently kicked against cheating on her husband for any reason even if her husband loses his sex organ. 

"What about the didlo, Mrs Holiness?" 

Just then, one of Bola's salegirls interrupted them with a customer's call. They both knew Bola would get so busy till later at night. 

Ada knew how gullible she was and wouldn't want Bola to notice that was why she rebuked the suggestion of an affair outside her marriage, but deep down within her, she wanted it badly and it's going to be her little secret. She wished Kene was flexible enough to learn the contrivance is giving a woman satisfaction during sex. 

Ada met Desmond two weeks later...  TO BE CONTINUED... I wish she wouldn't do anything nasty. 

LOVE AND INTELLIGENCE... Read what this kid told me that melted my heart.

I taught a young chap, who could give God a prototype of humans to create with his drawing,  during my NYSC days.

In one of the tests I gave his class, I asked them to define love and intelligence, each definition had 15marks. I knew the both definitions are vast, it would be hard to cover their vastitude. 

When I got to this boy's script, he drew me. I laughed so loud that I attracted some attention. But I suddenly got emotional when I read his few remarks. 

"Sir, the way you treat me and my classmates is love, and how you teach us shows you are intelligent. So I have to draw you to define love and intelligence. Thank you and Allah bless you."

Who can guess his scores???😀😀😀

WORK SMARTER, NOT HARDER...Learn to use your brains too.

WORK SMARTER, NOT HARDER 

Dear ladies, 

Often times you begin to wonder why it seems to be that no matter how u try to keep your patent faithful, it doesn't seem to b productive...

Here is the answer!!!

"You have been working harder...not smarter"

When you don't work smart in ur relationships, ur efforts may actually make things worse.

"Prayers and fasting, been the best chef or giving the best sex styles doesn't totally guarantee that he will be..( it depends on how u understand this statement).

CHANGE YOUR STRATEGY : keep your man wanting more of you..

Always reserve your "Ace of spade as ur winning card"..Always guard ur queen( if you are a chess player)...

Often times, all the above mentioned don't really matter to us...

Smart men "like me" look out for your Charisma, great dress sense, adaptability to complex issues, critical thinkers and solutions providers...

I belive this is worth to ponder on..

Have a very productive Monday

#myrandomtots

David Nnaemezie Dhoziee

MARRIAGE OR SEX 1

"Pl ple ple please don't stop!" Ada stumbled over her words as she clung onto Kene with her legs wide open.

The expression on her face about twenty seconds later knocked off the satisfaction from Kene who just came and was breathing heavily with his mouth open and eyes trying to focus on a thing out of ecstasy. 

"This doesn't just feel good." Ada complained almost under her breath. 

She shut Kene up, who wanted to give reasons for ejaculating quicker than she bargained. Silence filled the atmosphere in his office as they both dressed up to leave.

Kene flung his eyes intermittently on her as he drove them back home. He knew and had always bragged about it that he married a very sexy and beautiful wife. Her legs, he always confessed to her, are his centre of attraction towards her especially when she wore slim fit skirt that would bring out her figures and then exposed her legs.

"Please don't start what you can't finish." Ada pulled herself away from his grip when he was all over her for sex the next day around 4am. 

Kene furrowed his eyes as he tried to digest Ada's words. "Is it what it is now?"

Ada said nothing as she turned to back him.

"Kene!..." She stressed and dragged his name as he tried to massage her right shoulder, that's her soft spot. "I don't want to have another quick sex that wsill lead me no way." She turned and faced him again. "It's not that I don't want to make love, but I fear to have a quick one. Kene, for crying out loud, I've not really reached orgasm since we got married two years ago. I'm dying. I miss good and long lasting sex." 

Kene suddenly lost interest in making love. As usual, Ada didn't mind to fulfil her marital obligation. But Kene got up from bed, took a pillow and went to the parlour. He collapsed into the three seater couch and tried to catch some sleep. 

Ada knew he was disappointed, but like her mother advised not to starve her husband with sex, she stood up and went to the parlour. She met Kene already sleeping. She took off her night gown and bent over him. They didn't spend more than three minutes after his first thrust. She rolled her eyes in disappointment, then picked her gown and walk straight into the bathroom... TO BE CONTINUED...

I AM PENSWORLD

My eyes were closed as I allowed the shower  run a little more before turning it off. I reached for my towel almost immediately to dry my face. 

My face in the mirror was the first thing I saw as I opened my eyes. I looked still into my eyes for about a minute. The pains and disappointments I'd managed as a growing young man came in flashes as I blinked my eyes faster than normal. Just then, trickled water from my hair got in my eyes. I dried the water and pressed the towel a little harder on my face.  A soft moan escaped my lung as I took a deep breath. 

I have risen like phoenix from ashes.

I have rejuvenated. 

I cried those days when I felt too weak to go on. 

I always smiled and laughed at every slightest word to shade my tears. 

I wished for better days.

One fact that consoled me the most all through those times was "everyone's gat a problem. Just as people hardly notice mine, I don't notice theirs too."

Look at me today, I AM PENSWORLD!

WHAT A MAN...

Feminist: what a man can do, a woman can do better. 

Plan of God: what a man cannot do, a woman can do. 

That's being a help meet. So why trying to do what men do as a woman, neglecting what you are meant to do. That's why the world generally now is in shambles. Only if women can take their place, then we shall see the beauty of life again.

THE REASON WHY I AM PROUD

"He is proud." I heard a guy spoke of me.

I smiled when I heard him say that.

Let me tell you a little about me. 

I was a little boy with loneliness as his companion. Inferiority complex took a major part of him, I hated myself and believed nothing good can ever come out of me.

During Children's Day Celebration in the church, I always hid and exempted myself from participating in anything. I was too conscious of making mistake. I tried a few times to take the bull by the horn, but always had a reason  not to have tried in the first place. I was mesmerized, beaten to the ground, helpless and forsaken.

I heard many people say I was the ugliest kid of my parent. They told the truth, maybe, maybe not. The mirror was an evidence. I never like what I saw- A very skinny image of a boy who almost died of a sickness. "Lepa" became his second name. His eyes bulged out like they would fall at any moment. People started calling him "oju-olomgbo" meaning cat eyes. He cried and questioned God for given him a different colour of eyeballs. His proprietress always told the other kids during assembly to call his legs "mosquito legs" after being punished with several whips of cane. One of his teeth protruded out of his gum, which made him look like a vampire. He was so fair in complexion that people called him "afin" some say "albino" some even say "ororo" people said the truth I concluded, I was the ugliest.

Whenever I performed poorly in my exam at school, I would be spoken to like it was all my fault. My parents and aunties would take every of my mistake to be a reason why I didn't do well. And when I requested for extra food during meals, even if I would later be given, I would hear the server which was always either one of my aunties or elder sisters say after sucking me dry with a look of rejection and irritation, "that's the only thing you are good at." Then a long hiss would follow.

Almost everybody had one ill thing to say about me. It gave me sleepless night, and finally made me shrink deep into my shell.

When I took the second position in Primary five, my joy was full. My dad would buy crate of mineral like he always did for my younger sister, who was in the same class with me. I got home and was the first to declare what position I took. I saw expressions that weren't really a smile on their faces, then "you tried" was all that was muttered. I was mad. I did it for them. In fact, I was living just to please people.

My elder brother told me the most demeaning words I have heard people say to me. During a youth convention in my church when I was eighteen, I wrote a spoken word to be said, though I was going to read it from the book. I opted into writing because that was the only remedy and companion which was always ready to let me wet it with my words filled with burdens. I gave the piece of writing to my elder brother who asked me what is the theme of the program when he read my topic. I told him. He asked what was mine, I told him. Then he finally said, "What is the correlation? If you don't have something to do on that day, come sit and watch people who have better things to do." He flung the sheet of paper back at me, who was sitting on the floor. Tears beclouded my eyes, I grabbed the dangling sheet of paper in the air and tore it into pieces. 

I hated myself for trying yet again. I hated writing, my companion. I slid into hell.

I dropped my pen for more than a year against my wish. Though I tried picking it up to write, but I dropped it again because I didn't want to go through the torment of abuses for lack of my competence. 

Goodly enough I got admission into the University and had a change of view of life. For the first time in my life apart from when I played football back then in my hood, I was celebrated for touching lives with my pen on paper. 

"You shouldn't have joined the bulletin group (writing group), you belong here." A senior friend told me in an all-night drama rehearsal. That statement birthed my love for acting. 

I'm so proud of so many things in my life, the greatest of them all is that I am a survivor. I've survived inferiority complex, fear, hatred, sickness, frustration, depression, and even death. Now, I'm no more afraid of giants because I'm now a professional giant killer. 

KNOW YOUR DRIVERs(a needful knowledge we often neglect)...

Read my story 👇👇👇

I boarded a taxi on my way back home few months back. Like where I always like sitting, I sat beside the driver so we can always discuss and laugh. I always love their tales, complaints or jokes, they are one truthful group of beings "when they want to be."

"This uncompleted building has been like this since eight years I last visited this place." I started to strike a chat.

"Ah! Nobody know wetin happen o my brother, maybe the person don die. You know all these big men, nobody know how them take get their money..." He talked on and on as he drove.

My usual self was giving him all the necessary gestures and exclamations to keep the gist afloat.

"Oga you sabi make person laugh no be small!" He complimented me amid his laughter.😂😂😂 I alighted from his bus laughing so hard.

I had boarded another bus that would take me to my bus-stop when I tried to listen to R'n'b songs with my Android phone. It was like a joke to me at first when I couldn't find my phone. It was the first time a phone addict like me would leave his companion somewhere. I searched around my seat to no avail.

"Why not call the number?" A guy seated next to me advised. I told him confidently that I don't forget my phone anywhere.

Everyone helped me to search every nook and cranny of the bus still to no avail, that was when I decided to call the number. The taxi man told me where to come meet him in two hours when I finally called. I took a breath of relief as I met the gaze of the guy, who advised me to call the number. He had this "I told you" look on his face.

"Thanks." I muttered with a mixed smile. I went on to thank everyone in the bus as I alighted from the bus a minutes later.

Exactly ten minute to the two hours the taxi man told me, I called him. He said he was there already, that he was even eating in one of the shops at that bus-stop.

I got to the bus-stop exactly ten minutes later. My number was switched off when tried it. My heart almost leaped into my stomach. I couldn't believe it. I tried the number several times to no avail. So many "whys" flooded my mind. Goose pimples immediately filled my body that I could feel the wetness of my boxers.

Nevertheless I tried so hard to maintain my composure as I dried my sweat almost every second. I was so confused with no option to pick from. I took a deep breath about fifteen minutes later to give it a try of walking around to know if I could see him. I concluded that I was going to ask around if I didn't see him, at least I could still describe him to as many food sellers as possible.

The third shop I checked had the man chatting and laughing with the food seller and other customers. The man was surprised when he saw me. He asked why I didn't call my number. I told him that I had tried several times but didn't know why it was switched off. One of the customers in the shop didn't believe I could recognise the driver just like that. Though I didn't see a big deal in that because I'm fond of knowing the driver of any bus I board, it dawned on me that I would have lost my phone if I wasn't able to recognise the driver.

I later discovered it was a SIM error that made my number not to be reachable, the phone was on and not switched off.

I closed my eyes as usual as the R'n'b songs in my playlist caressed my ear drums. Since that day, I started having a conscious knwloedge of any bus driver facially as well as his conductor if he has any.