Excel World

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At one point, I felt my husband was a lazy man, or he was not doing enough.

At 34, with two kids and a husband, I thought I had mastered the art of gratitude. My husband, Adebayo, dealt in Aso-oke at Sabo market, Akure. He was hardworking, God-fearing, and intentional about his family. With the profit from his business, he had even purchased two keke napep that brought in steady weekly returns.

In just seven years of marriage, we had a roof over our heads, food on our table, and a promising future. He always assured me that his old Corolla 2000 model would soon be replaced with something better.

But the day we moved into that new environment, something shifted in me.

I began to notice what I lacked rather than what I had.

When the keke drivers came to pick my children, I would stand at the balcony and watch my neighbors’ children climb into sleek GLE Mercedes Benz SUVs.

Their compound was filled with bicycles of different colors—five, maybe six of them. My children only managed one. Their kids attended the best schools in town, mine went to an average one.

And their mother—oh, the woman never repeated wigs. Everyday a new look, a new style. Meanwhile, I didn’t even own one.

Suddenly, my husband’s efforts didn’t feel enough. My heart turned restless, and I began to nag.

One night, as he dropped into bed tired, I crossed my arms and said:
“Bayo, I think we need to change the children’s school. This one no fit us again.”

He glanced at me, weary but calm. “But they’re doing so well there. Why move them when it’s affordable?”

I snapped, “Are you sure you won’t start taking them to school yourself? Every day, keke nap! It’s embarrassing, honestly.”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “So you’d prefer we put them in a school where, before we pay fees, we must sell property?”

I ignored his question and fired another one:
“When are you even going to change this your old car? Bayo, this motor don kpeme!”

He chuckled lightly, though I could see the sting in his eyes. “God will help us, my dear.”

“And please, buy me a wig. Even if it’s just one. I can’t keep looking this plain.”

He was quiet for a moment, then muttered, “Why not be grateful? Many children trek to school daily. As for the wig, no problem. I’ll send you money to get not one but two. But mark my words, this wig will teach you something about life.”

The next day, money dropped in my account. I rushed to Instagram, ordered my wig, and waited impatiently.

When it arrived, I wore it proudly the following morning. I stood before the mirror, adjusted it, and smiled. Finally, I belong.

But as I stepped outside with my kids, ready to follow the keke driver, my neighbor drove past with her children. She was glowing in a Brazilian bone straight wig I knew cost over a million. She waved politely before gliding off in her 2024 Kia.

I froze. My brand-new wig felt like nylon on my head.

Instead of sulking, I forced a laugh. So this is the race I signed up for? There will always be another level.

I realised that if I don’t choose peace, I will never stop running after shadows. True peace is in contentment.

That evening, after school and lunch, my first son, who we had enrolled in piano lessons since he was four, sat at his keyboard. At five, he was already a little genius. He played beautifully, his little fingers dancing over the keys as he taught his younger sister. My heart melted with pride.

Then, a knock came at the door.

It was my neighbor. She smiled warmly. “Good evening. Please, forgive me for disturbing. I kept hearing piano sounds from my apartment, and I told myself, ‘I must find out who’s playing so beautifully.’ I can’t believe it’s your son!”

I beamed, still shocked. “Yes, it’s him. He loves it.”

She sighed. “We’ve spent so much money on schools and extra classes, but my children don’t pick things easily. Please, can they learn from your son? We’ll even pay.”

I laughed softly and shook my head. “No need to pay. He’ll teach them for free. Children should grow together.”

She thanked me endlessly before leaving with her kids, she said something again,

"I always admire all your beautiful Aso-oke that you rock, I don't mind knowing your dealer."

I blushed as I said,

"My husband is a dealer,"

Her face brightened with a glow as she said,

"No wonder."

We laughed and exchanged contact before she left.

I closed the door, leaned against it, and sighed deeply. That day, a truth hit me hard.

The next day, I took my kids to school and I went straight home, prepared a nice meal and headed to my husband's shop to help him out. I just reached out to my girls to handle my jewellery shop for that day.

When I arrived, he was arranging Aso-oke fabrics, carefully placing samples on shelves. His shirt clung to him with sweat, yet he smiled when he saw me.

I walked in, hugged him from behind, and whispered,
“Ẹ kú iṣẹ́, ọkọ mi.” (Well done, my husband).

He turned, surprise and warmth in his eyes as he replied.

I started helping him out, and he would turn and ask me,

“What happened?”

I drew close as I put my arms on his shoulder, and I said softly,

“I was blind,” I admitted. “I kept seeing what we didn’t have, and I nagged. But I forgot that not every woman has what I have—a visionary husband. You’ve given us comfort, stability, and hope. You’ve built us from scratch, and I should have been grateful all along.”

His face softened,and he blushed. I saw it and it made me smile too.

He pulled me close and said,

“You know, you almost made me feel like I wasn’t doing enough. But hearing this now—it means everything. Life isn’t about competing. It’s about building steadily, with contentment.”

I smiled, wiping my eyes. “Then eat before you faint. I came to help today.”

We sat, shared the meal, laughed, and worked together. That day felt lighter, fuller. And as the evening came, I had this playful thought, maybe… baby number three might just be conceived tonight.

Marriage is truly beautiful. Marriage is sweet. But only when you stop competing and start appreciating.

MORALS

1. Contentment brings peace. When you stop comparing, you start living.
2. Gratitude preserves love. Appreciating your partner’s effort builds them up, while nagging tears them down.
3. Every family has their blessings. What you lack in one area, God has already compensated for in another.

*Marriage is truly beautiful. Marriage is sweet. But only when you stop competing and start appreciating*

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WHEN IMMORALITY BECOMES A MARKETING STRATEGY: THE COMFORT EMMANSON SPECTACLE AND NIGERIA’S DECAYING MORAL COMPASS
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Thomas Thomas
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Barely 48 hours after her release from Kirikiri Prison, Comfort Emmanson—known for her online rants, nudity, and disregard for decency—has been flooded with offers, endorsements, and ambassadorial deals.
A Special Assistant to the Delta State Governor, a real estate mogul from Ebonyi State, and even the Minister of Aviation (albeit under the guise of “official capacity”) have all rushed to her side. Now, Crownlek, a top fashion house headed by Balogun Olamilekan, has offered her a six-month ambassadorial deal to model their high-end designs and represent the company at major fashion and entertainment events.

Others, it seems, may soon follow.

But here lies the troubling question—why are all these promises and endorsements coming almost exclusively from men? Where are the women in this jamboree of sudden benevolence? What exactly do these men want that Comfort Emmanson supposedly has?

Would these same people roll out the red carpet for a male entertainer or public figure fresh out of prison for equally scandalous conduct? Why, for example, has no one offered Kwam 1 such a spree of brand endorsements simply for existing while he did the unprecedented?

This nation is fast sliding into a moral abyss—into the open arms of S***m and Gomorrah—where immorality is not just tolerated, but rewarded with wealth, fame, and political connections. Comfort Emmanson’s case is not about rehabilitation or giving someone a second chance; it is a calculated glorification of bad behaviour.

Her public record is clearly a shameless displays of nudity, public rascality and a penchant for vulgarity on social media. Yet instead of condemning such conduct, our so-called political elites and business leaders are sending an unmistakable message to Nigeria’s youth: Be unruly, break the rules, strip on camera, and you might just become the next brand ambassador.

This is the dangerous precedent that human rights activists—under the false canopy of “fundamental freedoms”—are helping to cement. In truth, they are enabling the decay, wrapping corruption and moral bankruptcy in the language of liberty.

As Imaobong Akpan has sharply observed, “The way it’s going, one day an unruly, recalcitrant, violent passenger will storm the cockpit of any other plane to struggle control with a pilot, and nothing will happen afterwards. Let us keep tolerating craze and rewarding BS.”

Let's ask ourselves: What exactly are we teaching the next generation? That being disrespectful, uncultured, and shameless is the fastest route to fame? That the dignity of womanhood is negotiable for the right price That our girls should strip on social media in hopes of landing the attention of powerful men?

If this trajectory continues, Nigeria will have little left in terms of values. We will be a nation where rudeness is repackaged as “boldness,” nudity is branded as “self-expression,” and morality is dismissed as “old-fashioned.”

This is not empowerment. It is the ridiculous act of auctioning of our cultural and moral heritage to the highest bidder, and the buyers are lining up.
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When a marriage does not work out as expected, it does not make any of the partners a failure or bad individual.

It is possible for one to get married out of excitement or pressure, so instead of selecting a desirable person, he or she can settle for an available partner.

Available partner is not a choice. They are passers-by who serve the purpose of the moment. One can wish to seek a degree in the University but end up in a Polytechnic. It depends on the desire because when the opportunity to be admitted to the university beckons, he or she abandons the Polytechnic abruptly. It's an illustration of how people choose their partners.

If you are not desirable, then you are available. Many available spouses will be abandoned soon, and the method of separation can be painful or mild. The available partner might be an amazing person, but they do not serve the purpose of desire.

"When the desirable is not available, available becomes the desirable." This maxim is a typical classification of today's marriage because nothing is as deceptive as human desire.

I have explained the desire of an average intending partner's consideration for marriage in the Relationship and Marriage Class, our Sunday interactive engagement where we examine marital issues and profer solutions.

In fact, if you do not know why the brother or sister wants to marry you apart from the sacrosanct statement, "I want to marry him or her because of the Deen", then I will advise you to hold on until you know the reason behind the decision.

Are you the available or desirable choice to your intending partner or spouse? Mind you, the answer you get might be deceitful if it is wrapped with emotional attachment, except you are prayerful and attentive.

Always pay attention to details.
👀👁️

Good day
Don't Let Your Neighbors Bear Bad Witness Against You on These Matters:

1. *Don't let them testify that you neglect prayer or refuse to go to the place of worship when you're healthy.*
2. *Don't let them witness that you don't greet people or respond to their greetings.*
3. *Avoid being blamed for not attending funerals or visiting your neighbors when they're ill.*
4. *Don't let them accuse you of throwing garbage at your neighbor's doorstep.*
5. *Make every effort to allow your wife to visit your neighbors or attend their celebrations during the times you've allocated for her.*
6. *Don't let them testify that you exploit or oppress your neighbors financially.*
7. *Don't refuse to lend your neighbor something they need when you have it.*
8. *Show concern when your neighbor is going through a difficult time; don't turn your back on them.*
9. *Don't let them witness you boasting to your neighbor about your knowledge, wealth, status, or position.*
10. *Don't go to bed full when your neighbor is hungry.*

Yoruba people will say:-- Not all words has answers....
"GBOGBO ORO KO LO LESI"
Researchers from Oxford University and University of lagos have discovered that a woman can speak 8,000 words a day while a man speaks 2,000 words a day. So, if you see your wife shouting at you, please don't raise your hands on her, don't shout back, and don't talk back either, just keep quiet because she's aiming to reach her daily word target. *Please forward to platforms where men will see & reduce domestic violence.*

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I was at the fueling station earlier today. While on the queue, the Napep man beside me also on queue to the same pump was on call with his wife.

His phone had rang twice before he eventually picked. His wife mentioned that he didn’t drop any money for the children to eat, and in response, he said reminded her that he already told her he wanted to use the money left with him to buy fuel into his Keke so that he can work and send money. The call was audible as it was on speaker.

The worried wife kept mentioning that the children were already crying. But he kept telling his wife that he would send money immediately he works.

After the call, he was speaking with himself and talking how people weren’t going out as the normal days. With his eyes fixed at a particular spot of the keke.

I was so bothered for him, his wife and the hungry children.

When we got to the pump, the attendant could either sell to me or him as we were beside each other due to the position of our fuel tanks.

And he told the pump attendant to sell for me. I immediately told the attendant to sell for him.

“Oya, sell One thousand two hundred own”

While he stretched his hand to give the attendant the money.

Then I said young lady, Pls fill the tank of his keke”

He looked at me like, No, she shouldn’t as he doesn’t have that money to pay.

I told him not to worry, and that I will pay.

And he said, since I started driving this keke, I have never bought full tank.

With tears on his eyes, he went down and I carried him up.

After I bought mine and as I was driving out of the staton, I didn’t know he was waiting for me just outside the gate.

When I saw him, I stopped he couldn’t stop thanking me.

I simply told him, I overheard the call with his wife wish caught my emotions.

My parents taught me how to be kind to people.

One thousand two hundred can not feed husband and wife, let alone with the children.

Most of your friends aren't truly friends.

There are three types of friendships: leaf, branch, and root.

Leaf friends are seasonal; they stay for benefits, fun, and convenience.

Branch friends are in-between. They may be supportive, but they can't handle too much weight. You can't fully lean on them, as they might break.

Root friends are the true ones.They're there for you in your darkest hour through storms, failures, and hardships. When you have nothing, when business fails, or when you're in trouble, root friends remain steadfast.

Find and cherish root friends. Invest in root friendships, and strive to be one for someone else.

Ibrahim Abimbola Rasheedah