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Our ancestors were wise and great people! Our ancestors were this and that! I know! But the real elephant in the room is this question. How are we replicating their greatness in this post-modern world as offsprings who are promoting Odinani?

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I must say, it is easy to excite people with historical embellishments of how sweet, organised and great the past world of our Igbo ancestors were. But the truth is, we cannot go back to such past. We can only attempt to create something similar or much better.

The inevitable headache lying in wait for all Odinani promoters in ten years time is to show concrete substance either with their lives or with the lives of their dedicated followers how a future laced with the ideological framework of Odinani will be.

The beauty, possibilities and potentialities of Odinani can only take form and shape when it goes beyond social media pedagogy, constant lampooning of the White Man and his system. And becomes a framework for societal reformation.

The present ideology of capitalism which replaced our native tight knit communalism has obviously breeded greed, extreme individualism and create disproportionate imbalance between the haves and the have nots in our Igbo society.

Present promoters of Odinani must have or show a better alternative to capitalism. They have to show this in their business, in their lifestyle, in the training of their wards and in their communities.

The powers and potentialities ascribed to Agwu need to be put into practise by promoters of Odinani. The greatness of Agwu needs to manifest first from the promoters of Odinani.

In film world, we say show don’t talk. Thus, it’s time we start reducing the volume of screaming about the richness of our pre-colonial history and start showing people the real benefits of adopting the ideological dispositions which Odinani exudes.

So far, this has not be done. And I must truthfully admit, it will take time and discipline to achieve such alternative structure.

The good news is that many who are championing Odinani Reawakening are young. Whether they have the discipline to show a better alternative to societal reformation will be seen in the next ten to twenty years time.

If in twenty years time there is no fruit from all the Vuvuzuela posturing about the rich past, then, you know this present noise is nothing but sound and fury signifying nothing.

Odinani promoters must understand that he who asserts must proof. If they say the way of our ancestors was much better, the onus lies on them to prove so. And what better way to prove this than with their lifestyle, business and family. This is a huge task!

Are Odinani promoters ready to SHOW we can develop a new habit of organising our society based on the philosophies of our ancients or should the TALKING about our past history continue ad infinitum?

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It was supposed to be a life-changing journey to Canada, a place filled with hopes, dreams, and endless possibilities. Yet, I found myself back in my Nigerian village two months later, empty-handed, all because of an encounter I had with an old woman named Margaret

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I never expected that a small act of kindness would mark the beginning of my downfall. My journey to Canada was supposed to be a dream come true—a place of endless possibilities and bright prospects. But two months later, I found myself back in my Nigerian village, empty-handed, all because of a fateful encounter with an old woman named Margaret. She wasn’t just any ordinary woman; she was a master of disguise, a witch who set her eyes on my fortune and future.

It all began innocently. I arrived in Toronto filled with ambition and enthusiasm, and soon got involved in community activities, even volunteering with local groups. One cold, rainy afternoon, I noticed an elderly woman, hunched and shivering, struggling to carry her grocery bags across the street. She looked frail, weak, and alone. Without hesitation, I went over to help her. She gave me a smile that felt slightly off, almost unsettling, and introduced herself as Margaret.

She explained that she lived alone and had no family nearby. She asked if I could help her carry her groceries home, and I agreed, thinking it was the least I could do. After all, what harm could come from helping an old woman in need? When we reached her apartment, a strange chill ran down my spine. The place was dimly lit, filled with the smell of herbs, and strange symbols carved into the walls. She thanked me, offered me tea, and insisted I drink it to “warm up.” Although I felt uneasy, I took a sip out of politeness.

In the days following that encounter, strange things began to happen. I started having unsettling dreams of being back in my village, endlessly working but achieving nothing. Initially, I brushed it off as homesickness, but the dreams grew stronger, leaving me tired and uneasy. It felt as if something was calling me back to Nigeria, a mysterious pull that I couldn’t ignore.

One day, a friend noticed my exhausted state and commented on my drastic change in appearance. Concerned, he urged me to visit a spiritual healer. Reluctantly, I agreed, willing to try anything to feel normal again. The healer looked at me intently and asked if I had recently offended anyone. Confused, I mentioned my encounter with the old woman. She sighed, her eyes widening, and said, “That woman is no ordinary person. She’s tied your fortune to hers—she’s cursed you.”

The nightmare only intensified from that point on. I felt my fortune slipping away. Job opportunities vanished, my bank account drained faster than I could keep up, and even my friends started to distance themselves. It was as if an unseen force was sucking away everything I had worked for. Soon, I couldn’t afford my rent, food, or basic needs. The harsh reality set in: I had no choice but to return to Nigeria, defeated, without a penny to my name.

Two months after arriving in Canada with so much hope, I was back in my village, surrounded by familiar sights that now felt tainted by my experience. The dreams I’d had in Canada had become my reality. I was home again, jobless, broke, and with an uncertain future. Worse still, it felt like I could hear Margaret’s voice echoing in my mind, laughing at my misery, as if she had orchestrated this entire ordeal.

Helping others has always been a principle I value deeply, but this experience taught me a difficult lesson—not everyone who appears in need is what they seem. Sometimes, even acts of kindness can become traps when dealing with forces beyond our understanding. Looking back, I realize Margaret wasn’t just an old woman in need; she was a manipulative spirit who saw my innocence as an opportunity to ensnare me.

Now, as I sit here, recounting my story, I feel the weight of the experience and the lessons it has left behind. My Canadian dream turned into a nightmare, not because of the country but because of that fateful encounter. Among my people here in the village, where there is understanding and spiritual insight, I can begin to heal and rebuild. Though I may have returned empty-handed, my spirit remains intact. My name is Chijindu Uwakwe, and I am determined to rise again, stronger and wiser.

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My name is Marydivine, and this is the most complicated, painful, and frankly, tragic story I could ever share. The story of how I ended up marrying the same man as my identical twin sister, Maryjane, all because of a mistake.

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I Married the Same Man as My Twin Sister  And It All Started with a Mistaken Affair”

My name is Marydivine, and this is the most complicated, painful, and frankly, tragic story I could ever share. The story of how I ended up marrying the same man as my identical twin sister, Maryjane — all because of a mistake. A mistake that changed our lives forever and led to one of the most heartbreaking and confusing events in my life.

It all began with Martins. He was handsome, charming, and everything I thought I wanted in a man. We met through friends at a gathering, and we hit it off immediately. I never thought much of it at first — just casual flirting, a few dates, some sweet conversations. But with time, things started to escalate. I felt myself growing more attached to him. He made me feel special, like I was the only woman in the room when he was around.

But here’s the thing about being an identical twin — we look the same. We share the same face, the same figure, the same eyes. For most people, it’s a blessing. For us, sometimes, it can be a curse. Our bond was always close, but things got even more complicated when Martins started showing more interest in both of us.

At first, it was innocent. I’ll admit, we both liked the attention, especially because we knew he couldn’t tell us apart at first. It was funny, harmless even. But then, one night, things went too far.

It happened at a party. Martins had invited both Maryjane and me, and we were having a good time, enjoying the music and laughter, when I had to step out for a bit. I told him I was going to the bathroom, but that’s when everything changed.

Unbeknownst to me, Maryjane had been wearing a dress identical to mine that night. When she walked into the room where Martins was waiting, he didn’t hesitate. He thought it was me. And what followed… was something neither of us could ever take back.

They had an affair.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t know anything about it until the next day when everything started unraveling. Martins came to me, looking disheveled, and with guilt written all over his face. He told me he had something to confess. That’s when he told me about the night with “me.” But then he looked at me, confused, and said, “You were so different last night. Your energy, your touch… it felt off. Was it really you?”

That’s when I found out — the woman he had been with was not me, but Maryjane.

I was devastated. My twin sister, my own flesh and blood, had been with the man I was falling for. I couldn’t believe it. How could she? How could he? I felt humiliated, betrayed, and heartbroken. But that was only the beginning.

Maryjane, upon finding out what happened, was furious with me. She felt as though I had betrayed her by getting involved with the same man. She didn’t even realize that I had no idea what had happened between her and Martins. She was hurt that I had somehow “stolen” him from her, even though she had been the one to start the affair.

But Martins didn’t see it that way. He came to both of us, apologizing profusely for his mistake. He explained that he was confused about which one of us he had been with that night, but that he loved both of us. And in his twisted mind, he couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.

The situation spiraled out of control. Neither Maryjane nor I knew what to do. We fought, cried, and argued. Neither of us wanted to let go of Martins. But the truth was, we were both emotionally invested in him, and neither of us was willing to walk away.

And that’s when it happened.

Martins proposed. To both of us. On the same day.

I still remember it like it was yesterday. He stood in front of us, one on each side, looking back and forth between us with those pleading eyes. He said he didn’t want to lose either of us, that we were both “his” in different ways. He wanted us both. He couldn’t choose. He loved us both. And so, against all reason and common sense, he asked us both to marry him. And in a moment of weakness, in a haze of confusion and love, we both said yes.

We married on the same day, in the same ceremony, with both Maryjane and me wearing identical white dresses. The wedding was surreal — a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from. It was beautiful, but the guilt, the confusion, and the emotional weight of it all lingered in the air.

Martins got what he wanted — two women who looked the same, two women who were both deeply in love with him. But neither Maryjane nor I could ever truly be happy. Our marriage, all of it, was built on lies, deception, and a mistake neither of us could undo.

I don’t know if this was love, or if it was just twisted fate, but it has ruined our lives in ways that I can’t even explain. Neither of us was truly happy in that marriage. And over the years, we both drifted away from Martins. We couldn’t stand to look at him, knowing what had happened. The fact that he had confused us, manipulated our emotions, and ultimately destroyed the bond between us, was too much to bear.

Today, Maryjane and I are estranged. We don’t talk anymore. We barely see each other. Our bond, once so strong, was broken by a man who thought he could have it all.

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Police arraign suspected killer of 19-year-old Enugu scavenger

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The Enugu State Police Command has announced the arraignment and remand of 30-year-old Tsehemba Joshua for the alleged armed robbery and murder of 19-year-old scrap scavenger, Yusuf Ibrahim.

This was disclosed in a statement by the Police Public Relations Officer, DSP Daniel Ndukwe, which was also shared on the command’s X account and titled, “Enugu Police Arrest, Arraign and Remand Male Suspect for Conspiracy, Armed Robbery, and Murder of Scrap Scavenger.”

“Joshua is accused of conspiring with two accomplices, currently at large, to rob and strangle the victim. He has been remanded to the Enugu Correctional Custodial Centre following his court appearance,” the statement read.

Operatives from the Udenu Police Division arrested Joshua after a community alert about a shallow grave discovered at Ojo River, Ogbodu-Aba, Obollo Community.

“The suspect was arrested by operatives from the Udenu Police Division of the Command, following a community alert regarding a shallow grave discovered in a bush at Ojo River in Ogbodu-Aba, Obollo Community, Udenu LGA,” it noted.

Joshua confessed to luring the victim with a fake scrap motor vehicle sale, robbing him of N100,000, and then strangling and burying him on October 2, 2024.

“The suspect confessed to luring the victim under the pretence of selling a scrap motor vehicle propeller before robbing him of N100,000, strangling, and burying his body in a shallow grave on October 2, 2024.

“After a thorough investigation of the case by the Campus Monitoring/Anti-Cultism Section of the State CID Enugu, the suspect was arraigned and subsequently remanded, pending further court proceedings,” the statement concluded.

In August, the state command also detained a 30-year-old man for the alleged murder of his neighbour’s four-year-old daughter while she was sleeping.

The Command, in September, stated that it was investigating the murder of the Chairman of Ogbete Main Market Traders Association, Stephen Aniago.

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