CALEB UDO

JUST IN - Nigerian army dismisses personel Isah Emmanuel for refusing to cease fir£ from the order of commanding officer after been att@cked by boko haram t£rrorist from the front line.

JUST IN - Nigerian army dismisses personel Isah Emmanuel for refusing to cease fir£ from the order of commanding officer after been att@cked by boko haram t£rrorist from the front line.

The commading officer directed that they should cease fire after been heavily att@cked by this t£rrorist, but private Isah Emmanuel citing that he may be k!lled in the process continues in bomb@rding the boko haram cr1minal elements with more fir£ with made them to abscond and ran away. Donald J. Trump .

DISMISSED REGIMENT
ARMY N0 : 22NA/83/7262
RANK ; Private
Name: Isah Emmanuel
Unit: 16 Brigade Garrison
Offense: Disobidient to standing order
Date: 17/11/2025

DO UNTO OTHERS WHAT YOU WISH THEY DO UNTO YOU.

The woman my husband was spending all his money on… the woman he chose over me… was none other than my brother’s ex-wife.

For a moment, I lost my breath as I tried to process what I had just seen. My lips trembled in disbelief as my eyes locked on hers.

She recognized me instantly. Her eyes darted from me to my husband before she demanded, in a tone sharper than a question, “What is she doing here? Why did you bring her here?”

My husband glared at me, his voice ice-cold. “I didn't bring her here. She must have followed me. Leave. Go, before I do something I’ll regret.” There was no remorse in his tone. None.

And then she—my brother’s ex-wife—had the audacity to join in. “Stay away from my man,” she warned.

Her man?

By that, she meant my husband... the man I had been married to for seven years. She warned me as if I were the intruder, as if I were the one cheating.

My hand itched to slap her across the face, but before I could, my husband caught my wrist mid-air and shoved me backward. "Don't you dare," he warned.

The only word I managed to whisper was, “Why?”

She smiled. “Why do you think your brother divorced me? It was because of my man… my bestie.” She tilted her head toward my husband. “Before you married him, I knew him. I dated him. I loved him. Then you came into the picture, trying to take him from me. Fine, keep the marriage certificate, but he belongs to me.”

Her words pierced me like daggers. And before my eyes, she leaned close to my husband and whispered that she needed my car... yes, in addition to the one she already had.

And my husband, without hesitation, replied, “Your wish is my command.”

For a moment, I wondered if he was under some spell, but deep down I knew, this wasn’t charm. This was intentional.

He snatched my car key from my hand, proudly declaring he would drive it in as her car.

When he left, she seized that moment to stab me deeper. “You’re the reason I’m a divorcee today,” she sneered. “Didn’t you tell your brother you never liked me before we even got married? Didn’t you suspect me?"

I did suspect her.

"But he loved me, and he chose me anyway. Still, your words poisoned him. You sowed the discord that separated us. So I went back to my man to make sure you suffer like I did. Just prepare your mind for divorce.” She smiled wickedly.

That was when I realized, it was not about love. It was all about revenge.

Six years ago, when my brother introduced her to us as his bride-to-be, I had my doubts. She carried herself with a mask of decency, but I sensed another lifestyle lurking beneath.

My fears were confirmed the day I caught her clubbing, dancing wildly to rock music before a roaring audience.

I warned my brother. He brushed it aside. He was blinded by love.

Two years into the marriage, the truth came out. Her affairs were fueled by her shameless claim that if men cheat and get away with it, then women can too. She cheated on my brother.

So, my brother divorced her.

And yet, I was the one paying the price.

Just as I opened my mouth to scream at her wickedness, my husband returned, grabbed my arm and dragged me down the stairs. “Go home and take care of my children,” he warned.

“Which children?” I demanded.

“My boys! Go home and take care of my boys! I won’t warn you again!”

Something in me snapped. My voice came out raw, unfiltered. I didn't even know when I said it. “Which boys? You think they belong to you? They are not your children! Stop deceiving yourself!”

He froze. His grip on my hand loosened. Slowly, he turned to face me at the bottom of the stairs with his eyes burning with cold fury. “What did you just say?” He asked coldly.

I met his gaze, my own voice equally cold.
“They are not your children," I repeated fearlessly.





Chiagoziem