Tony Olowa: Updated his profile photo on KingsChat Web

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I am ready and set with my steps for the Dance challenge!Dance mode activated!Join me #wordfestextravaganza #wordfest2020 #cemidwestzone

*WORDFEST EXTRAVAGANZA* is a power packed and exciting 24hr programming on all our online platforms you don’t want to miss. VISIT: http://bit.ly/wordfestExtravanganza to register. #wordfestextravaganza #WordFest2020 #WordatWork #WordFest #cebeninzone1

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#wordfest #wordfest2020 #wordatwork #wordfestextravaganza #BlwzoneF

*WORDFEST EXTRAVAGANZA* is a power packed and exciting 24hr programming on all our online platforms you don’t want to miss. VISIT: http://bit.ly/wordfestExtravanganza to register. #wordfestextravaganza #WordFest2020 #WordatWork #WordFest #cebeninzone1

WHO PUT SALT IN MY BEANS? Looking at happenings all across the world today with events such as State capture, deep state activities, the livelihood of nations and millions of people being stolen right before their eyes, many thoughts crossed my mind, and so I decided to share a couple of stories from the recesses of my University days. Now I must confirm that both of these events happened as I am relating them. Time: Early afternoon on both occasions Locations: The dark and ominous students hostel known as Hall Four Hall Four was not your average student accommodation designed to convey a sense of learning, progression, freedom, academic serenity, and ventilation. Hall Four was probably designed by someone who had studied mazes and dark caves and decided that a daily dose of caving and mazing would be conducive to the encouragement of student academic endeavors. It consisted of corridor after corridor with very dim lighting. There were rooms on both sides, each room subdivided into four cubicles designed for one occupant each, although students often shared the cubicles to cut down on accommodation expenses. Somewhere within this maze of poorly ventilated pathways were open areas allocated to lawn tennis and even some areas for the time-honored tradition of washing and hanging out our clothes in the sunshine. These communal areas had a series of taps where you could do your washing with your buckets. Hmmm, why do buckets keep coming up in my stories… Anyway, these open areas were festooned with dozens of clotheslines from which to hang our various items of clothing, like shirts, socks, trousers, batman costumes, books, etc. Unfortunately, there were often a series of "supernatural" occurrences with clothes left in the hanging zones. They and other washable items were said to come to life, walk off the lines and disappear into the dark corridors where we assumed they roamed from room to room seeking their owners in a ghostly fashion. Anyway, I was faced with the prospect of washing some of my clothes to hang out in the communal outdoor laundry area while praying fervently like other students that I would return and still find them. But on the fateful day in question, there was a difference. You see, I had just purchased a pair of very lovely white sneakers, and these apples of my eye were meant to be with me forever, or at least till I got tired of them. Anyway, I had worn them once to attend a lecture, and the inconsiderate ground had shown its utter disdain for the apples of my eye by allowing some dust to mar their dazzling perfection. I could not bear to see stains on them, so I resolved to clean the outsides of the sneakers with some soapy water and put them in the communal sun zone for appropriate drying. In this matter, however, I was determined to lock down any attempt to spiritualize my sneakers. Hence, after washing them, I put them on a nice patch of cement very close to the washing lines and sat down some meters away to monitor them and ensure that all users of the communal washing area maintained a social distance from them. About fifteen minutes after I put them out in the sun to dry and assorted clothes were waving in the breeze above them, I noticed a fellow emerge from one of the corridors into the drying zone, and he started pulling various clothing items off the lines. Now I was immediately suspicious as he was taking clothes from different parts of the line, and I wasn't sure they all belonged to him. However, in the spirit of calmness, I watched as he approached the point where my sneakers were, still grabbing clothes and hanging them on his left shoulder. He got to my sneakers, still pulling clothes off the line and then in an act of gentle academic symmetry and geometric progression, leaned down and scooped up my sneakers with one hand while still pulling clothes off the line with his other hand. As this happened and I took in a deep breath of righteous wrath, and I thought, you sneaky sneak, you are trying to sneak away with my sneakers. As he walked towards me like Saint Peter and Saint Paul, my rage built up. I am trying to articulate my feelings at that time and can only describe them as that feeling you feel when you feel a feeling that feels like a feeling that you have never felt before. I planned to sneak up on him like a sneak in the night and practice some Karate BUT, my main mistake was that my eyes showed my sense of purpose, and he glanced up and saw me standing watching him. Our man of God, Pastor Chris, has told us that the eyes are the windows to the soul so he must have looked through said windows and seen someone with a koboko…., sorry, whip. To his credit he continued walking in my direction with my sneakers in his hand then he reached up to pull a blanket from the line, and as the sheet came down, gently placed the sneakers on the ground the way freshly baked manna from heavens kitchen descended on the Ground before Moses. While I was marveling at the extraordinary feat of manual dexterity and magical sleight of hand, he disappeared into one of the corridors, leaving me to walk over and pick up the sneakers of, sorry, apples of my eye. As amazing to me as that event was, there was another that put that in the shade, so dear gentle reader, please allow me to elaborate. In Hall Four, you had the opportunity to cook your food using small cookers powered with gas, but more often, that staple of student life, the kerosene stove. Now, many students, to prevent asphyxiation, would put their cookers or Kerosene stoves in the already poorly ventilated corridors and proceed to produce various culinary masterpieces. Sometimes they were culinary without being masterpieces, and sometimes they were masterpieces without being culinary. Either way, they were eaten. Well, one of the fellows in the next room to mine decided to cook some black-eyed beans, and I walked past him as I returned from a lecture, just as he started cooking. As the stoves were generally in the corridor, said cook would have to emerge from his cubicle, pass through the door of his room into the hallway, and tend to his food, which was understandable. Anyway, as I said, I want to relate to you exactly what happened as I listened from my cubicle, which, being closest to the door of my room, had an outside window to the corridor. I heard his door open about twenty to thirty minutes after I lay down on my bed to ponder my lecture, and I listened to the sound of utensils. A few moments later, I heard the cook say with a loud voice in protest. "who put salt in my beans?" Now I know it wasn't me, especially as we were not in the same cubicle or the same room, but the question intrigued me, and I waited for an answer from one of the other rooms, but there was silence. Shortly afterward, I heard his door close. A few minutes later he came out again, I heard the lid of the pot of beans raised, obviously so he could taste the progress of his culinary attempts, and I heard his voice the second time, "who has put pepper in my beans?" Once again, there was silence, and he returned to his room, mumbling about who was playing games. A few minutes later, I heard him protest loudly. "who has added palm oil and crayfish to my beans?" Now at this time, I was fully engaged with the drama although I hadn't arisen from my bed, and I wondered how far he was going to go before standing watch over his beans as I did over my sneakers. Anyway, his door closed again. A few minutes later I heard him shout. "Who has stolen my pot of beans?" At this point, I came out and saw him in the corridor looking around frantically, and I asked him, weren't you watching your beans? He didn't answer but went off checking room to room for his beans and his pot. I returned to my room, not being a shareholder in his endeavor but aware that THIS WAS BEANS CAPTURE. About ten minutes later I heard him return and once again overcome with curiousity I left my room and knocked on his door. When he came to the door, I asked him, did you find your beans, to which he quietly replied yes with his face still a bit grey with shock. What happened? I asked, and he related the short story below to me. He told me that he started going from room to room down the corridor, checking in each cubicle for the person who must have stolen his pot and beans, and then he got to a particular room. On opening the door, he pulled aside the curtain to the first cubicle only to see four hefty fellows who he was not sure were students. However, they were seated around his pot, helping themselves to its contents with gusto. As he stood there staring and trying to form his indignant protest, one of them looked up and barked with a menacing voice, WHAT? At that moment, I suppose he understood why when the Children of Israel saw Goliath of Gath, they wanted to GO LIE AT his feet and beg for mercy. Hehehe. Anyway, he told me that he said to them in a quiet voice. "Please, when you finish, can you leave my pot by my door"? None of the four giants replied, they just returned to the pot while he returned to his room. Over the years, I have pondered this young man's mindset. You watched yourself being defrauded, but you didn't react until it was too late. This is why our man of God has sounded the alarm over several weeks to ensure we are not defrauded. The bible says in Hebrews 2:1 that we should give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest we should let them slip. This means what we have listened to in the last several weeks from our Man of God should be indelible in our hearts. Our Lord Jesus said in John 10:10 (PARAPHRASED); The thief cometh not but for to steal, kill and destroy. I am come that you may have something unstealable, unkillable and impervious to destruction. This gospel has given us a life that is unstealable, unkillable and impervious to destruction. Brethren, we have something to celebrate. Jesus said in Matthew 16:18, I will build my Church, and the gates of Hell will not prevail against it. Let us spread the word about this life. We are a Nation of Champions. 🔊🔔📣For more articles like this, please like and follow my Superuser account (@pcspeaks) Pastor Chuka Speaks, and Opt-in for notifications of new posts. I enjoy reading your comments, so please feel free to post. #PastorChukaSpeaks #YourLoveWorld #Whostolemybeans #CEGermany #WEZ4

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