Eno-abasi sat by her desk, eyes heavy from another sleepless night. The project deadline was close, and her body begged for rest. Still, she pushed on, tired but determined. The strain was real, but so

pixabay My writing journal sits quietly on my desk, yet it has the loudest conversations of my mind and heart. It’s where unfinished thoughts find a place to rest a bit and memories take shape through

Image generated by freewriters on ecency On a quiet city walkway, I stop before a painted wall A mural of a fox and a chicken. But as I stare, the animals fade in my mind, replaced by two people, a man

Image generated by Phuonghoangthuy on pixabay Each bar carried a faint and soothing fragrance, blend of honey, cinnamon, and natural oils. What many saw as a simple bar of soap was, in truth, the result

Image generated by Marionbrun In an environment where healthcare often depends on the size of one’s wallet, surgeons working purposefully in the bright glow of operating lights tells a deeper story. One

Her Voice, Her Power: A Legacy the World Cannot Ignore In a world that has too often underestimated her, silenced her, or expected her to stand in the shadows, she has learned not just to survive, but

A Glance of Innovation: The Human Story Behind 5G In a world where seconds now feel like hours, and delays are silently equated to defeat, innovation has become more than a luxury but it’s survival. At

The she She isn't just torn but ripped, layer by layer, like a memory they tried to erase but couldn’t Her face breathes through the paper wounds, yet fragile Beauty sculpted in silence, held hostage by

The Wall Between Us In a village where red dust lingered in the air like an unspoken truth, a little boy named Tobi leaned against a cracked mud wall. The wall had seen better days, so had Tobi. He was

There was a time when Elias believed love was made of sunshine and apple blossoms. His mother used to say hearts were like orchards: beautiful if tended to, but wild and unkind if left alone. He never

"Beneath the Jacaranda Tree" The first time Leila saw him, the jacaranda tree was in full bloom, scattering purple petals like shy confessions onto the cobbled courtyard of the old university

i wished I counted times I go hungry to school, times I would go to school under the rain, trekking to school thereby getting soaked. So many times my mum selling off her expensive wears to pay some of

Black as scarlet, full of blemish Shackled with heavy burdens and load Lived a life of guilt and shame Gushing out blood from the sores of my eyes instead of tears like that of the red sea The pains of

He will ask, why are you behaving like this babes?, your mood was okay last I checked, why the switch of mood huh?, what's my offense? is it because if what I said? all being curious and inquisitive to

My eyes are glued to the clock on the wall, wondering why there are three hands; thin, short and the long hand. Thin - seconds, Morning phase Long- Minutes, afternoon phase Short - hours, evening phase

Hello, this is Alexa and this is a short story of how I lost a business opportunity/deal, due to being pissed over little issue. while growing up, I was prone to anger and at that I wasn't used to cracking

God abeg ooo this pains are for real, damn it, I exclaimed. How am I gonna do, where do I start from, how will I trust again, so I thought aloud. A knock disrupted my thoughts, yeah come in. Ah mummy,

Maureen how come you're here, mum asked. After all you you did to to her, you still have the effrontery to go to the hospital to check how bad it is to lock here, why ni haven't you people done enough?

The path is so narrow that darkness keep creeping in, I could hear the dangling and clicking of the plates, falling into thousand of pieces. I could hear people whispering from the kitchen, who is that?

Hello readers and fellow scribes, I am Blessings Sunday Frank, a full time writer, hardworking, target-oriented being. I develop interest in response to any topic, a versatile writer, specializing in creating