The Ebuka's

26/09/2025

WEEK 5: A Couch, a Key, and Quiet Compromises

That night the office felt smaller than it had in daylight, the hum of fluorescent lights had thinned into a steady, low companion. Eniola had planned to catch the last bus home, but the principal’s voice had made the decision for him: stay the night, he’d said, as if the offer were a favour rather than a choice. Ayomide’s house was close by, he’d added, and she wouldn’t mind.

So he walked across the quiet town and found himself at a gate that opened like a question. Ayomide’s mother greeted him with the easy hospitality of someone who’d hosted strangers before; Ayomide disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a plate, a towel, and a small, folded towel that smelled faintly of lavender. The couch was narrow, the kind that creaked in the middle, and when he lay there he felt both grateful and exposed -grateful for shelter, exposed by the smallness of safety that felt transactional.

Ayomide moved around with a practical grace, small kindnesses meted in tea and conversation. They spoke of trivial things: a class she’d just finished, a brother she missed, a joke about town politics. There were pauses that felt like doors opening and closing. He told himself he was careful; he told himself he owed nothing but gratitude. Yet gratitude, in the night, sometimes reads like availability.

Back in the office, the principal’s words echoed with a new weight. “Stay off my daughter,” he had said. Eniola could not tell if the words were meant to warn or possess. He was painfully aware of the optics: a young man, a lawyer’s daughter, a borrowed couch. Stories start in small places, and he knew how quickly small places turned into gossip.

As sleep thinned, a sound from the street a shouted name, a sudden footstep snapped the night. Ayomide’s hand found his on the couch, brief and steady. “Go to sleep,” she said softly, as if that could keep everything at bay.

NEXT WEEK: A rumour starts in the market and the principal’s temper finds a way into the daylight.

19/09/2025

WEEK 4: The Door That Opened Into a Chamber

The law office smelled faintly of legal pads and boiled coffee. Eniola stepped into that smell and into a room that ran on habit neat files, the soft click of a typewriter, a principal who wore cufflinks like little promises. The interview lasted ten minutes: show me what you can do, he said, and Eniola showed him a folder of lesson notes, a neat sample of a flyer and a confident answer about deadlines. The job was offered the same day.

Work settled around him like a new coat. He began as a computer operator setting up documents, typing pleadings, running the modest photocopier but within weeks he was doing more: taking calls, arranging meetings, keeping the principal’s calendar. He was careful, efficient, and the firm liked that. For the first time in a long while, money felt steady and the future less like a rumour.

But every steady thing has its undercurrent. The principal moved through the office with a private orbit: a practiced smile, a way of congratulating people that lingered too long. There was talk -hushed, then louder of a woman who met him outside work: a policewoman, they said, with a quiet authority. His wife’s name threaded through gossip. Once, on a slow afternoon, the principal caught Eniola by the shoulder and said, smiling without warmth, “Stay off my daughter.” It sounded almost like advice, and almost like a threat.

Eniola kept his head down. The job was a door necessary, useful but doors, he was learning, sometimes open into rooms he did not control.

NEXT WEEK: The first time he crashed at Ayomide’s house and why staying there would change everything.

12/09/2025

WEEK 3: The Decision After the Bell

When the final bell came, Eniola felt both emptied and strangely awake. The scrap of paper had been folded small just one word in Ayomide’s careful handwriting: Breathe. He’d laughed once, inwardly, and let the laugh be the steadying thing it needed to be. He finished the paper, turned in his script, and walked out into the wash of late sun that made the courtyard look like a burnished page.

Ayomide waited by the gate as if she’d been there the whole time. She didn’t ask about the exam. She handed him a plastic-wrapped sandwich and a note with an address to a law office in town and the name of a man who sometimes needed a computer operator. “Come tomorrow,” she said. “He’s looking for someone who knows desktop publishing.” Her voice was even, practical; the kind that could hold good news without making it louder than it needed to be.

For the first time since the money vanished, a tiny plan formed in Eniola’s hands not a grand rescue, but a tool he could use: work, pay, a place to sleep that wasn’t a borrowed sofa. He ate slowly, watching students spill into scooters and buses, and felt something like permission to keep going.

That permission came with a quiet warning he didn’t yet understand: the job would offer him a doorway, but every doorway had a house on the other side and some houses kept secrets.

NEXT WEEK: The law office interview and the door Eniola opened that did not close behind him.

05/09/2025

WEEK 2: The Paper That Almost Unpicked Everything

The exam hall smelled of sweat and chalk. Rows of desks looked like islands, each student alone with a pen and a future. Eniola had rehearsed this moment for weeks -the passages, the formulas, the little marginal notes that felt like stepping stones. He placed his registration slip on the desk, swallowed his fear, and began.

By Question Three, a rush came up his throat: a memory of his father’s laughter, then the image of his mother making those three quiet calls. It was a small thing, the thought that gratitude should be louder and yet it became a tide. His hands trembled. He tried to steady them, to make the letters behave. Around him pens moved like metronomes. Silence in an exam hall is not empty; it presses.

An invigilator’s footsteps grew closer. Someone coughed. The tremor in his fingers turned into a shake in his chest. He felt himself unpicking: not the paper in front of him but the strand of confidence that had held him together. A student two rows down glanced up, alarm in his eyes. The invigilator asked if he was well. Eniola opened his mouth to say “I’m fine,” then the word broke.

A hand appeared at the edge of his vision, a folded scrap of paper slid across the desk. Was it help or a trap? He looked up to see Ayomide’s face in the crowd, unreadable, and then the hall seemed to tilt.

NEXT WEEK: The moment after, a decision that would decide whether this paper unpicked him or made him.

29/08/2025

WEEK 1: The Day the Money Vanished

Eniola arrived in Ilesha with a single suitcase and a head full of plans. He was staying, quietly and without fanfare, at the house of Ayomide, the principal lawyer’s daughter while he learned desktop publishing and kept odd jobs to pay for his next exams. The town smelled of hot dust and sweet plantain; afternoons moved like slow sermons. For a young man building himself out of small earnings, a single transfer could mean everything.

So when the registration money his mother sent failed to hit the account, the room folded in on itself. There was a sick, sudden hush not the loud, dramatic anger he had imagined, but the sort of silence that makes decisions loiter dangerously. Eniola felt the familiar coil of panic: the lost chance, the closed door, the wasted years. He thought of all the work done to get here, of the long nights wiring new buildings, of the small cash jobs that had become lifelines.

His mother did not scream. She prayed soft, practiced then reached for the phone. She made three calls. One to an old teacher who owed a favour, one to a friend who could vouch, one to a driver who knew how to move things quietly. It was not a miracle as the stories tell it; it was a plan wrapped in prayer.

The money arrived. The registration went through. Eniola walked into the exam hall with his bag and a new, private certainty. But an exam hall holds more than answers, it sometimes holds secrets that unpick a life.

NEXT WEEK: the paper that almost unpicked everything.

25/08/2025

Today I am opening a door.

Meet Eniola, a life told in thirds: first as a story about someone else, then, two years and 100+ episodes later, the real deal.

is a weekly series about faith, migration, hard choices, and the small, steady acts that hold a life together. Over the next two years I will publish one episode every week: atmospheric, sharp, and built to leave you wanting the next drop.

Why this shape? Because sometimes truth lands better after people can breathe into it. For the first stretch the story will be told as it happened by eye witnesses and this will give the story room to breathe. Later, when the time is right the witnessed will be revealed behind the page to subscribers only.

WHAT TO EXPECT:
*One new episode every Friday by 1pm (short, vivid, with a cliffhanger).
*Monthly reflections, guest conversations and behind-the-scenes posts -subscribers only.
*Honest conversations about mental health, faith, and rebuilding.

A FEW QUICK ASKS:
1. Follow this page and turn on notifications.
2. Join our WhatsApp channel for episode alerts and behind-the-scenes notes https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029ValVKBADuMRfWNwM1r39.
3. You can support the project https://paystack.shop/pay/eniolaseries -small gifts help editing, hosting and a modest stipend for contributors.

NOTE: Names used are not real, though real places are named. Sensitive details were handled with care.

Episode 1 drops this Friday, 29th August, 2025. Bring your curiosity.

22/08/2025

On Friday, 29th August, 2025 -"Eniola: A Life Told Twice" a weekly story series will kick off. Each episode peels back a layer of faith, culture and tough choices. Like, engage and save the page, turn on notifications, and share the first chapter. Tag a friend who loves real stories.

Eniola: A Life Told Twice, a weekly, serialized story. Expect faith, hard choices, culture, and quiet resilience. New episode every [Friday by 1PM]. There will be guest posts/reflections. Support the contractors via https://paystack.shop/pay/eniolaseries.

12/01/2024

Volume VI: BUILDING A "CHRIST HAS " MARRIAGE BY BINDING CULTURAL NOISE AND BEHOLDING GOD'S DESIGN

Readers, in this 2024 as you have decided not to gree for anybody, abeg gree for God's Word. So far, we have explored leaps of faith and embraced the "Yes" after many Nos." Today, we dig into the foundation of every society and the cornerstone of families, yeah . But beneath the vows and celebrations, many marriages struggle ~Why? Often, it is because we build on shifting sands of cultural expectations instead of the granite bedrock of God's Word, yes we ride on emotional love instead of love of God.

Let's be honest and even in the vibe of men being men ~oh boy, sometimes we confuse with God's standard. We forget the radical, sacrificial love Christ exemplified, by falling into patterns of dominance and forgetting the gentle yet firm shepherd system of the true Church we ought replicate. So, for the popular question "is love enough for marriage?" Yes, capital YES! With love and in love everything issues in each marriage will be solved by the the couple that is in the best position to do so.

Ladies, sorry women you people have yours in hand, yes sometimes you get caught up in the feminist echo chamber, forgetting the wisdom of submission to God's Word. Maybe you don't know that true empowerment comes from aligning oneself with God's Word, and not societal pressures. So, don't forget that you are not disadvantaged, second class or incomplete without man, meanwhile you must also make submission a life pattern.

We have been able to establish that neither Africanism nor feminism are the blueprints for a thriving marriage. Then we must turn to the Holy Scripture ~the timeless guide that transcends cultures and generations. So, here is how we can build a "Christ Has" marriage:
-Men please relearn true love through Christ's lens, since Ephesians 5:25 urges us to love our wives "as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her." Then "loving beyond blame" is the only model of selfless sacrifice we must choose, over control or entitlement -let's deal with it.

-Women do all you can to embrace God's call to submission. It is not about weakness, but about aligning your will with His perfect plan. And also always remember Ephesians 5:22 that keeps reminding you of the true model: "submit to your OWN HUSBAND as unto the Lord."

-Wo(Men), we are all on this table and we must submit to the Word of God! Please, let this be our compass, our guide-post and our ultimate authority. And we must remain exhorted with Apostle Paul charge in Colossians 3:16: "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom." Because we have a lot to do, and we really need continuous supply of God's wisdom and strength that are made available in Christ Jesus for we to achieve perfect marriage, though this transformation won't happen overnight; because it demands of the Scripture, with our partner, and willingness to shed cultural and societial baggage. Once we align with this, I am very sure of one thing which is, the rewards thereafters are immeasurable!

No specific message for this week but for deeper understanding, I highly recommend Pastor Usen MJ's teachings available at The Swat Library https://t.me/thisistheswat -an open access to God's graced Words to us. His insights on God's design for marriage are both practical and transformative, just like he taught in Bible Study yesterday. And to kickstart your journey of 2024 through prophetic instructions, join me this Sunday, January 14th, by 11:33AM at The SWAT Place for a with Pastor Usen Mj. Come expectant, please note that the service will also be aired live on Usen MJ Ministries page, Youtube and Telegram. And for sure, God's miracles are abundant, and there is enough for everyone who seeks Him -my Prophet got you covered!

On this final note, a "Christ Has" marriage isn't about cultural norms or power dynamics. It is about two souls surrendering to God's Word, embracing love, respect and mutual submission. It is about building a haven where God's presence thrives and His blessings overflow. So, are you ready to build a "Christ Has" marriage? Please, share your thoughts and hopes in the comments below, and let's walk this path together!

My prayer is that "your marriage will become beacons of love that reflects the radiant light of "Christ Has" in Jesus Name"! See you on Sunday at The SWAT Place, Ile-Ife.

26/01/2023

Nothing was really going on here but we have been around for a very long time, we did shoot our shot when we did and 6 days ago makes it 2 months into a journey of forever that started how it did.

IMO: There is no better perfect time to get together than when you have all sorted things out between yourselves.

28/12/2022

See the explanation for yourself at the end...

09/12/2022

Most times we just live our lives but a small spark can dramatically change the whole narration. A little look into the story behind the NAPS t-shirt we wore here: "it was totally unplanned because originally Funmilayo Ezeh and Gift who later served as her chief bridesmaid chose the same colour while Ambassador and Shade went for black but somehow the black t-shirt came back to bae so today we can wear it as couple🧏...

NB: This picture was taken pretty earlier before we started taking about being together.
Evidence: 😅 Mimi was still in the belly but when the proposal happened he was a baby and during our wedding he is already running around!

20/11/2022

All we, sorry I can is "thank you lord".

My view