Daniel Rankin

26/01/2026

IS NOT THIS THE CHRIST?

"A genuine deception...such naked delusion"

In the times of my sinful passion,
my famished soul craves urgent attention
and begs for immediate satisfaction.
A genuine deception indeed —
such naked delusion I see,
for who would think that such beautiful pleasure
as this would bring no lasting solution for me?
And so, in regrets, I realized
that the devil’s prescription only hypnotizes
and leaves you with a starving addiction,
because pill after pill...

In the times of my sinful passion, my famished soul craves urgent attention and begs for immediate satisfaction. A genuine deception…

14/06/2025

🤯🤯A series revealing many hidden behaviors of schools pupils parents and teachers. It's drama, funny and it's real 😊

13/06/2025

Yumiwa: The lazy playgirl.

Continuation of part one...

The next morning, Yumiwa lay curled like a newborn baby. The c**k had crowed, the sun had risen, but she was still deep in sleep. Ankau, dressed for market, assumed Yumiwa had already brushed and bathed. Only when she called her for breakfast did she realize her daughter had not even left the bed, talkless of brushing her teeth.

“Yumi!” she shouted from outside. “This kind pikin God gimmie sef! Yumi!!”

“Yes mummy,” came the lazy voice from inside. Yumiwa dragged herself up slowly and let out a long yawn, like a tired pregnant woman.

She walked out, face sleepy, eyes dull — until she saw her mother coming toward her with cane in her hand and anger in her eyes.

“Awo!” Yumiwa screamed, her sleep vanished immediately. She dashed outside, grabbed a bucket, and began to bathe right there in the open yard, like somebody who was on fire. Her mother stood still, cane in hand, vibrating like thunder waiting for a reason to fall.

That day, Yumiwa left for school by 9 a.m. She had no socks on, she couldn't find them. Her hair was tattered. Her rumpled uniform smelled like sweat. But nobody punished her. At school, they didn’t beat pupils. The fear of offending parents had made the school owner to ban beating from school. Yumiwa loved it.

“Yumiwa, why are you outside by this time when you should be in class?” asked the school owner.

“Eh, what is your consine?” she mumbled, walking off without waiting for a reply.

But as she neared her class, her steps slowed. Her heartbeat grew loud. Her hands clutched her schoolbag like a shield. Her chest rose and fell like she had been running. She paused at the door. Froze. “Come here!”

A deep male voice cut through the room like a whip causing Yumiwa to shudder, almost letting go of her bag.

TO BE CONTINUED…

13/06/2025

YUMIWA: THE LAZY PLAYGIRL

PART 1

Once upon a time in Ijutu village, there was a girl named Yumiwa. She was nine years old — slim, tall, chocolate and cheerful-looking, with a spirit too confident for her age.

One late evening, her mother Ankau had walked round the whole village, wrapper swaying and mouth muttering, looking for her. She found her eventually in Iomba, a neighboring village, playing Kanda with the other children like her future was tight to play.

“Yumiwa! You will not kill me before my time!” Ankau shouted, her voice cracking through the trees. Yumiwa sprang to her feet and ran behind a palm tree. Her mother frowned, eyes darkened. “You better come out from there before I mad for you,” she snapped, retying her wrapper with angry fingers and stepping forward.

“Good evening, ma,” Duyu, Yumiwa’s friend, greeted with a small wave. “You're the one spoiling my daughter, abi? You and that your useless brother,” Ankau fired back without even looking at her. She grabbed Yumiwa by the ear and dragged her out like she was pulling a stubborn goat from market.

“Why can't you be like Boya and Galida?” Ankau scolded as they walked. “As soon as you come back from school — fiam! — you're off to play. When other children are doing homework and being useful to their parents, you're jumping up and down like frog. I go flog that nonsense commot from your body today!”

Yumiwa didn’t resist. She never did. She was used to it by now; All the dragging, the scolding, the whipping. But each time she was flogged, she cried as if it were her first day on earth. Loud. With shaking shoulders and tears that refused to dry. And as always, Ankau would end up petting her to stop. The neighbors would murmur again, "This woman too soft. She go beat her pikin finish, come begin pamper am like egg."

Read on...

13/06/2025

13/06/2025

PARENTS ARE TEACHERS AND TEACHERS ARE PARENTS