Any Lady That Disagrees With Papa Adeboye is Lazy: Spiritually and Physically

There has been a lot of controversy since Papa Adeboye waarned his church guys to not marry girls that can’t cook and pray for one hour.

I decided to do my research. I went online and read the arguments. Some supported him, others vehemently disagreed with him.

And I began to wonder why nobody is talking about the second part of his speech when he told the ladies not to marry jobless men. Why is nobody arguing about that one?

So everybody knows and believes that a man must be able to provide for his family but they don’t know that a woman must be able to prepare meals for her husband and children?

Isn’t that hypocrisy?

Now, a lot of people will say women also earn incomes these days.

My reply to that is this: Since women have also become income earners, have they also given the task of child bearing over to the men?

I said women who disagree with Papa are lazy for a reason. Yes, I know some ladies can’t cook but I also know that they can learn. The problem is that they are not willing to learn. It’s the laziness thing again.

There are so many online cooking tutorials but do you love your family enough to actually try?

Some persons argued some ladies have cooks to prepare meals for them. I don’t see anything wrong with that as long as you can afford it. Even though I believe their husband would really appreciate if they can prepare a meal themselves every once in a while.

As for praying for one hour, some persons argued that it’s better to pray meaningful prayers for a short time than spend hours praying without any impact. I quite agree.

But then I started to wonder. Just how many minutes will it take them to pray for their husband’s safety, health, business or job, children’s progress, joy and happiness in the home, etc?

How long will it take them to pray so their husband is protected from home-breaking jezebels?

How many prayer points can they pray in five minutes?

Even if they can’t pray for an hour yet, they can start small and develop into something better. In the long run, all Papa warned about was those lazy girls who see these home-building attributes as burdensome, tiring and unthinkable. The ‘wise’ ones will hide behind feminism.

Let’s not forget that Papa Adeboye was speaking to his church members, born again ladies and guys. He wasn’t talking to girls whose only concern was in being dope, hip and trendy. He wasn’t talking to girls who only cared about instagram and snapchat followers. He definitely wasn’t talking to guys who only cared about dope girls.

He was speaking to members of his church, people he had been grooming for a while now.

All the dope guys and chicks shouldn’t concern themselves about what Papa Adeboye is saying, even if they are born again Christians. Like papa rightly said, his message was not for everybody.

As for those people using abusive words on the man of God and calling him names, they should know that the fourty boys who mocked Elisha and called him “bald head” thought they were just having fun. Until the bears came and devoured them.

At least, they don’t have the excuse of not knowing that he’s a man of God.


Chronicles of the Witches II

The cave was dark, full of cobwebs and bats. The only light came from the smouldering fire with a large pot placed atop. Black thick liquid bubbled to and fro inside the pot. Various screeches and screams came from the pot. Occasionally, spiders and cockroaches would flitter and skiiter all around the pot without getting scalded.

The three witches sat, old and tattered with their wrinkled skin that looked as ancient as dust, few old grey hair strands on their hair. Their sagging breasts were exceptionally long. They sat and snickered, exchanging tales. This is their chronicle.


A beautiful woman went with her daughter to her tailor’s shop to get a dress made. The tailor’s shop was located in a plaza on the highway. As she sat and talked to the tailor, suddenly, her little daughter screamed and jumped into her mother’s arms, her nails digging into her mother’s flesh.

Surprised, the woman held her daughter close and kept questioning her. The little girl couldn’t reply. She kept looking at the roof and burying her face in her mother’s arms like she could see something sinister and hideous on the roof of the building. Being wise and Christian, the mother understood that something was amiss and immediately took her daughter home.

Years later, the plaza was being destroyed to erect another huge outlet and while the foundation was been destroyed, a calabash was found buried underneath the foundation. Inside the calabash was found a piece of cloth and a live chick, pecking away.

How does a chick stay alive for years underneath a building without dying or growing?

Still don’t believe that witches exist?



In a secondary school boarding house, a girl had a misunderstanding with a fellow student. After the conflicts and fights, the girl went away, thinking that was the end of the issue. That night in her dreams, she saw the other girl spoiling for a fight. Unwilling to be beaten, the girl engaged the other girl in a fight that lasted hours. Teeth and nail were used during the fight. At last, the girl woke up and went about her normal duties. She noticed that the other students kept giving her stares. She didn’t understand it until she went to take a bath. Scratches, teeth marks and nail marks covered her entire body. Underneath her nails she could see brown liquid that resembled blood. The shocker was when she discovered that the other girl was also covered in marks. Coincidence? I think not.


Chronicle of the Witches

The cave was dark, full of cobwebs and bats. The only light came from the smoldering fire with a large pot placed atop. Black thick liquid bubbled to and fro inside the pot. Various screeches and screams came from the pot. Occasionally, spiders and cockroaches would flitter and skiiter all around the pot without getting scalded.

The three witches sat, old and tattered with their wrinkled skin that looked as ancient as dust, few old grey hair strands on their hair. Their sagging breasts were exceptionally long. They murmuredĀ and snickered, exchanging tales. This is their chronicle.



Once upon a time on a busy highway, a young man hurriedly stopped the bus he was travelling on to answer nature’s call. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him into the forest and quickly pulled down his trousers and began to relieve himself. As he stooped, he looked up and that’s when he saw the python. A black snake as long as his arm and as big as the tree branch it crawled on.

Too paralysed with fear, the young man stayed still, frightened and yet somehow fascinated. He watched the snake slither to the ground and slowly, the tail became two beautiful legs and the head became the face of a stunning girl dressed in tight jeans and a revealing top. His head began to swell and his body shook uncontrollably. Shock kept him quiet. The girl shook herself clear and moved away.

Unable to continue relieving himself, the young man used the leaves to clean his behind and rushed back to the waiting bus. Just in time, he arrived to see the girl standing on the highway. Soon enough, a car stopped and she smiled prettily and talked to the driver.

Just as she was about to enter the car, she turned and looked at the young man straight in the eye, a knowing smile on her face. A chill went down his body. At that moment, he knew it was no accident. Maybe he would meet her again.



Once upon a time, a certain young man had an itch he couldn’t scratch himself. He got to the streets and picked up a beautiful night worker. She would be a soft companion for the night. Skilled at her craft, the girl entertained him for hours on end. Tired, he lay back, wondering how he had survived for so long without her services.

“I’m hungry” She said to him.

“There’s food in the kitchen.” He replied.

She smiled and slithered out the room.

As he lay there, almost falling asleep, he felt a nudge to check on the girl. Too tired, he lay back down. It came again, a desire to check on the girl. Feeling disgruntled, the young man left the room to the kitchen.

The first thing he noticed was the cold. The kitchen was so cold he could see his breath in the air. The tiles were like ice on his feet.

Then he saw her, kneeling on the floor beside the gas cooker and facing the wall. She was talking to somebody in a soft voice, somebody he couldn’t see. He could feel a presence, something he couldn’t shake. Somebody else was in the room, something powerful, something frightening.

Immediately, she turned, smiled and stood up. That’s when he saw the knife in her hands.

Without thinking, he moved back and ran to the door. It closed just as he got to it. Heart racing, he pulled on the knob. The door refused to budge. Pulling with all his might, the door knob came off.

The girl was smiling and looking at him. Suddenly, something touched him at the neck, a cold hand that sent shivers down his spine. He started to turn, then realised he couldn’t move. His whole body stood there, useless and unable to move.

The girl started moving towards him, the knife raised. He tried to scream but his mouth refused to open. Just as she got to him, her hands raised and the knife ready to strike, she stopped suddenly and turned to the wall beside him.

“No!” She shouted. “He’s mine. He belongs to me.”

Her face became distorted with rage and the once beautiful face became bitter and wrinkled. He felt revulsed and nauseated.

Whoever she was talking to must have replied because she turned to him with so much hatred in her eyes.

“You’re very lucky.” She said simply and walked out of the kitchen.

Then he fell to the floor, weak and breathless. The night became silent. By the time he managed to his room, his phone was ringing. His mother.

“Bobby, how are you? Are you okay?” She sounded worried.

He told her everything that had happened.

“Do you know that as I was sleeping, your sister just came and said we should pray for you, that you were about to fall into a trap. We prayed and when I slept, I saw you on an altar, tied up and helpless. One woman was there with a knife. I began to fight her till I threw the knife away and chased her. That’s when I woke up and called you.”


Still don’t believe in witches? More real-life encounters coming.