All posts by GBAMLOG

Student of Nnamdi Azikiwe university

Fate of the Curious by Chiedozie Ude.

‘Curiosity, they say kills the cat’. I have often taken that statement for granted until I allowed dear Mr. Experience to teach me an unforgettable lesson.

I was in a new school and because I resumed late, I had a plethora of notes to copy, legions of them. Concentrating on my task which was writing and eating ‘guguru ati epa’ (groundnut and popcorn) without a care in the world, I ignored most of the activities going on around me, in fact I was oblivious to my environment.

One fateful afternoon, we were having everyone’s favorite subject which was ‘free period’, and the whole class relished every minute of it.

As the norm was, is and would be, free periods are periods when students show their unintellectual traits— that is, a time for the display of chronic madness. Yours truly was busy trying to update his literature note when the hullabaloo started. Screams! Grunts! Moans!, tables falling and people cheering. ‘What the hell was going on?’ I asked myself. ‘Concentrate on updating your notes,’ a still voice said.

I tried to shut my ears to the cacophony which had become more raucous and vociferous. From the little I could decipher from the madness which was threatening to bring down the whole school, two gals were fighting (names withheld because it is a matter of national security) and which for analytical purposes, I’ll call X and Y. Whatever was the cause of the fight, I still do not know, but from the ecstatic cheers the boys were giving, it must have been a wonderful opportunity for many of them to feel the fighting ladies ‘uhhhm’ fleshy characteristics (forget my euphemism, you know what I mean ‘lol’).

I was not watching, but slowly, my excitement was climaxing, I had to satisfy my eyes by watching the belligerents live. The still voice came again, warning me to ignore whatever was going on, but I ignored it. After all, I just wanted to feed my eyes for a minutes. So, I abandoned my books, after all, there would be time to update them later. I began squabbling with members of the crowd so as to get an ‘HD’ view of the proceedings. I got my reward because I stumbled to the front….

All of a sudden, everything went black in my left eye, I could not see and I felt a burning pain there. Oh my gosh! ‘What just happened?’
One of the fighting gals decided it was time to turn the tables on her adversary by stoning her, and fortunately for her opponent and unfortunately for yours truly, she missed and the stone hit my left eye point blank. That ended the fight because I heard someone screaming pitifully and it took me a while to realise that I was the person.

I stayed at home for the next two days due to the blinding pain

I learnt a big lesson that day, learn to curb your curiosity

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Wickedness!!! See What Teenage Cultists Did To The Girls They Captured (Photo)

Security operatives in Awada, near Onitsha, Anambra state have arrested three cultists for allegedly abducting and r-ping two teenage girls.

The suspects, Andrew Ejike (20), Chidiebere Edwin (19) and Chisom Christian (17) were said to have sexually assaulted the victims after subjecting them to initiation rituals.

The Nation gathered that the victims were later set free but not without a warning not to reveal their ordeal to anyone.

The police spokesperson, Haruna Mohammed confirmed the incident, saying the suspects were arrested by Surveillance Patrol team attached to Awada Division.

He said they would be charged to court after investigation was concluded.

He said, “The suspects abducted two young girls aged 15 and 17years and forced them to undergo some initiation rituals and allegedly gang-raped them before letting them go.

“All of them have confessed to their membership of a cult group known as the “SAITARIS”.

The police PRO also confirmed the arrest of another suspected cultist for allegedly attacking three persons with machete in order to initiate them into his cult group.

He said the suspect, Onyeka Iloka had lured the victims into the bush where they were beaten.

He said, “Police detectives attached to Ozubulu division arrested one Onyeka Iloka alias “Campus Executioner”, aged 25 years of Eziora in Ozubulu.

“Suspect allegedly lured one Chidera Agina and two others of the same address into the bush, beat them with machete in order to initiate them into his cult group “Vickings confraternity”.

“Suspect voluntarily confessed to the crime and is assisting the Police with useful information that could help arrest his accomplices in order to bring them to justice.”

Source: 360nobs.com

HORROR REALITY STORY: AREN’T YOU GLAD YOU DIDN’T TURN ON THE LIGHT? By W. Horton | GBAMLOG.COM

Two dormmates in college were in the same science class. The teacher had just reminded them about the midterm the next day when one dorm mate—let’s call her Juli—got asked to this big bash by the hottest guy in school. The other dorm mate, Meg, had pretty much no interest in going and, being a diligent student, she took notes on what the midterm was about. After the entire period of flirting with her date, Juli was totally unprepared for her test, while Meg was completely prepared for a major study date with her books.

At the end of the day, Juli spent hours getting ready for the party while Meg started studying. Juli tried to get Meg to go, but she was insistent that she would study and pass the test. The girls were rather close and Juli didn’t like leaving Meg alone to be bored while she was out having a blast. Juli finally gave up, using the excuse that she would cram in homeroom the next day.

Juli went to the party and had the time of her life with her date. She headed back to the dorm around 2 a.m. and decided not to wake Meg. She went to bed nervous about the midterm and decided she would wake up early to ask Meg for help.

She woke up and went to wake Meg. Meg was lying on her stomach, apparently sound asleep. Juli rolled Meg over to reveal Meg’s terrified face. Juli, concerned, turned on the desk lamp. Meg’s study stuff was still open and had blood all over it. Meg had been slaughtered. Juli, in horror, fell to the floor and looked up to see, written on the wall in Meg’s blood: “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?”

HORROR TRAGEDY: HOW A FLIGHT TO VEGAS ENDED MY RELATIONSHIP by Toni Payne

You won’t believe how a flight to Vegas ended my relationship. I had been dating a guy named William for about one year. Things were going great between us and I had no cause for concern. Well, that is until he did something so thoughtless, I had to end the relationship.

I work as a financial consultant and although I travel a lot, my job is quite flexible. He worked as a fitness trainer so his job was also quite flexible. When we started dating, I felt the flexibility of our careers was a good sign because we could spend more time together.

Severally, I would invite him on trips with me, most especially when I knew I would be gone for a week or more. He turned me down all the time with the excuse that he had a fear of flying. I even went as far as trying to get him to enroll in a “defeat your fears” simulated flight program, which he blatantly refused.

I decided to overlook things, after all, there were other communication options while I was away. We kept in touch whenever I travelled, in fact he was very attentive so I did not see what was coming.

During one of my business trips, our flight got delayed and because I was in a hurry, I decided to change flights and take a connecting flight through another airport. This would have saved me two hours and given me enough time to get home to prepare for my meeting the next day.

As my flight landed, I glanced down at my watch and realized I was running late and may just miss my connecting flight from Dallas to Vegas. I hurried off the plane and proceeded to the next gate, hand luggage in one hand, laptop bag in another.

A few moments later, I heard my name announced through the airport loud speaker. I ran as fast as I could and although I was the last to board, I was glad I made it. I could feel the sweat build up on my brows as I pushed my way through the airplane aisles trying to locate my seat.
As I gradually made my way down the first ten or so rows, you will not believe what I saw!

There he was, sitting there, nuzzling the passenger next to him. Yes, you guessed it right, my boyfriend of one year, who did not like to fly, was flying to Vegas with another lady and he was so smitten by her that he did not see me stroll by.

Patience Rocks!

I was absolutely livid! I could feel the heat intensifying in my stomach as I contemplated causing a scene. It took a lot of self-control but I decided it was best to stay calm. Quietly, I walked to my seat where I fortunately, had a good view of him and his lady friend. This was where being patient played a good role.

I watched as they interacted with each other, partly because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t jumping to conclusions. From where I was seated I got a good view of them kissing, I even watched as they took a short nap with her head on his shoulder.
As I watched all this happen, I took several pictures on my phone as evidence. Although the pictures were not so great, there was no way he could have denied it was him.

I never knew I had that much self-restraint but somehow, I made it through the flight without going up to them. When we landed, I waited for them to get got off the plane first. I purposely stayed back so that I would not run into them.

Later that day, while sitting at my computer with a glass of wine in one hand, I sent him a text message saying it was over. I attached the pictured from the airplane. Although he tried to call me several times that night, I did not pick his calls. It has been a couple of years now, and I have not spoken to William since then. After all, good riddance to bad rubbish, right?

COMEDY ROMANCE: MODERN LOVE by Ruffled Quill | GBAMLOG.COM

Deep breaths…

Not so deep that you pass out, but deep enough to relax you into a state of such super coolness that you’ll pretty much glide up that finely paved driveway, knock on the door and ask her out. I try a few more deep breaths and then stop before I hyperventilate right here in the street. Her house is in the middle of the street, a semi-detached new build that screams ‘Yes, the area I was built in may be a little troublesome from time to time, but living in this house you’ll forget all that’.

It’s probably got four bedrooms with en-suite, the windows are double glazed, dark brown frames against pale, expensive brickwork and she has a garage that’s attached to the house. Whatever her dad does for a living he must be good at it.

In my head I replay the conversation that got me here.

 

***

I was sat on the wall by the art block. Ste, my best friend, was with me. We only had half an hour for dinner but he’d been back to the canteen three times already. As usual on summer days the girls in our year liked to sit in a group on the grass and gossip the time away; a ring of male spectators had gathered, keeping their distance just enough to avoid detection but watching them closely. We were in that ring but I was only watching one girl, Jo. We only had a few lessons together but it was enough for me to fall in love with her.

“She told me she likes you,” said Ste, trying to impale as many chips onto the small, plastic fork as he could manage; those he couldn’t  made a bid for escape over the side of the tray, dinner for the birds once we’d left the yard.

“Are you sure?” I asked him again. There were two reasons why I’m not convinced; one, a girl like Jo wouldn’t ever like me and two, I’ve known Ste my whole life and ninety-eight percent of what comes out of his mouth is crap.

“Trust me.” When he sees the look on my face he decides to elaborate. “She told Claire that she likes you-“

“You said she told you herself.”

He waved his hand in the air as though who said what wasn’t really important. I ducked the chips that flew off the folk.

“I meant she told Claire and Claire told me. I wasn’t supposed to know but I couldn’t keep that from you.”

As he fills his mouth with more chips I try to weigh up what’s worse, the girl of my dreams fancying me or her best friend’s shocking morals on confidentiality.

“Should I ask her out here, at school?” I ask myself aloud. Ste thinks I’m asking him. He shakes his head and I’m glad he hasn’t tried to talk with food in his mouth. Eventually he swallows. It’s like a snake swallowing a goat.

“Go round to her house after school and ask her,” he says as if he does this kind of thing all the time. I know he doesn’t since he has the same luck as I do with girls.

***

 

I try for the gate and it’s stuck, the bloody thing won’t open. Is this a sign? I’m trying desperately to get it open while at the same time trying to keep a cool exterior should anyone happen to glance out of their window. A small amount of light kicking and eventually it swings open and emits a high pitch screech of rusted hinges, like a warning system. Hopefully not one for an attack dog. Does she own a dog? She’s never said. Jesus, what if I’m savaged in her front garden? There aren’t any warning stickers in the window, though. You’ve got to warn people if you’re housing a four legged, ferocious killing machine. I read that somewhere.

I’m purposely dawdling now, admiring plants that I’ll never know the names of, following the intricate pattern of the crazy paving. The closer I get to the house the harder it will be to ask her. If I continue to panic this much my brain will surely seize.

Get a grip! I tell myself. She’s known you ages, she’ll be pleased, if a little surprised to see you at her door but that won’t matter. Once you ask her and she says yes then you’ve cracked it. You can crack a few jokes and stride off into the sunset leaving her breathless at the front door, unable to contain her excitement at your date the following night . . . you hope.

I’m at her door. Do I use the door knocker or bell? Is there a system? My hand hovers, unsure, between the two.  Is the door knocker for friends and family and the bell for salesmen and extremely nervous fourteen year olds? What do I do? Help, please anyone!

“Excuse me, mate.”

I spin around so quick that I almost turn a full 360. A man is standing by the gate dressed in a dark blue courier uniform, holding a clipboard and a package under his arm. I didn’t even hear his van pull up. He looks about thirty, unshaven and quite tough; like an e-fit from Crime Watch.

“Yes?” I say, happy for the distraction.

“Is this 14 Hamble Drive?”

“Erm…” I look back at the door, no number anywhere. Why would you not have a door number on your house?  “I er, don’t know.”

“Oh, right. I thought you lived here. It looked like you were unlocking the door that was all.”

“No, I don’t, mate.” Will he ask her for me? He can knock on the door and just tell Jo there’s a very nervous kid on the street who would like to go out with her. She’ll think it’s sweet.

“What’s the name of the family that live here?”  He asks, while placing the clipboard on the wall and checking the parcel over. My mind’s gone blank again, I’ve managed to forget my future girlfriend’s last name, and I thought exam stress was a killer.

“I don’t know,” I tell him, weakly.

“Are you a friend or relative?” He looks concerned. Concerned that he’s got a chance to unload a parcel but he can’t tell if I’m an idiot or not.

“Erm…not really.” Oh god, I’m getting flustered, he’s making me even more nervous and I’m doing my best not to show it.

“Not really what?”

“I’m a friend.”

“You weren’t sure a second ago.”

“I’m a friend,” I assure him, but he doesn’t seem assured. He reaches for the pen behind his ear and taps the parcel. He’s weighing me up, sussing if I know what I’m talking about. It won’t be long before he realises I don’t.

“A friend of whom?”

“Their daughter.”

“Who is?”

“Claire.” That’s not her name, you fool. “No Joanne, I mean, Jo.”

“Are you sure you know them?”

How has none of her family heard this conversation? There’s a man getting ever more incensed by a pointless conversation with a school boy in their garden and so far not one person has ventured outside to investigate. The Courier’s not keen on going anywhere because he’s now resting on the wall by the gate. Maybe I could reason with him? Explain the situation to him and he might understand. He might have been an idiotic fourteen year-old once.

“What are you doing at the door?” The laid back approach he had before has now disappeared and he’s looking at the other houses in the street when he asks his question. He thinks I’m up to no good, like her father will.

“I was going to knock.”

“You looked like you were fiddling with the lock.”

“I’m expected,” I lie. None of her family will back that story up if it comes down to me having to prove it. The Courier knows this.

“Well knock then.”

“Why?” I try to stall, but he knows what I’m doing.

“Because you’re expected.”

“No.” I tell him straight.

“I knew it,” he says. He begins to rub his chin while he thinks what he could do with me. There’s a sound of a door unlocking and Jo’s next door neighbour sticks his head out. I can tell he’s going to be a problem; he looks like he should be in magazines, selling life insurance or stair lifts. Eighty with grey hair and moustache, military look about him, the sort of person who sees nothing but bad news with anyone under the age of thirty.

“What’s going on?” he asks, straining at the neck like a tortoise.

“I’ve come to deliver this parcel and I’ve found this kid acting suspiciously by the front door,” the Courier tells him, instantly creating two against one.

“He was acting suspiciously by the front garden, earlier.”

“How?” I ask, tone a few octaves too high.

He’s outraged I’ve questioned him. “You were stood looking at the house for ten minutes,” he says, stepping out into his garden. He’s dressed in trousers, shirt and tie and a v-neck jumper. I almost expect war medals as well. Unless his house has air conditioning, wearing that outfit in this heat can’t be good for anyone, any age. “I thought you were lost but you were looking to see if anyone was at home.”

“That’s what I thought,” said the Courier, holding his hands out now he’s found someone who agrees with him. He points at me. “But he says he’s expected.”

“You’re expected?” the old man repeats, shaking his head.

“Yes I am.” Throughout all this the panic isn’t fading and I don’t move from the spot. I feel like I’m on trial.

“Who’s expecting you, then?” the old man asks.

“Jo,” I stress. “Jo is expecting me.” I pray this will end it.

“Well, you’ll struggle there I’m afraid,” he informs me. “She went out with her dad, earlier.”

A wave of relief crashes over me; I won’t have to embarrass myself. It’s instantly followed by a tsunami of realisation that I’ll be no closer to getting the girl of my dreams.

“I’m phoning the police.” The Courier takes out his mobile phone.

“Hang on a minute,” I protest, hands flapping about wildly.

“There has been a spate of burglaries around here,” states the old man pointing at me and raising his voice as if he wants the entire street to know. “I knew it was kids. You’ve got some nerve stealing from houses in broad daylight.”

“But I know Jo.”

“From school, that’s probably how you found out the house was empty,” says the Courier, as if he’s just solved a mystery on Scooby-Do. He puts the phone to his ear.  “Yeah, police? I want to report an attempted burglary . . .”

“I’m not a bloody burglar!” I shout.

The old man has shuffled over to the fence in his slippers, getting very excited at the prospect of me being arrested for something I haven’t done.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” he says to me. “Margo saw someone the other day in Mrs Higginbotham’s garden; she’ll be able to say whether it was you or not, won’t she?”

“What number’s this house?” the Courier asks the old man. He still doesn’t know if he’s at the right address.

“Fourteen, Hamble Drive.”

The Courier looks at me as if to say you should have just accepted the parcel. The old man is already making his way across the road to the adjacent house where, I assume, Margo lives. He knocks on the door and an old lady, about his age, greets him. They spend a few minutes having a hushed conversation. The Courier hangs the phone up and stares over at the old couple talking.

“The police will be here soon,” he says to me.

“I’ll just head off home.” I begin to make my way out of the garden but the Courier blocks my way.

“Too late, mate. You can’t sneak your way out of this.”

The old man has obviously asked Margo but she’s struggling because she’s pointing at a tree. He moves her arm in my direction and she nods wildly. What can only be described as a sprint for an eighty year-old brings him back across the road, shaking with either excitement or illness, hard to say which.

“She says it’s him,” he says. “She’s a hundred percent sure. She says you were trying to get into Mrs Higginbotham’s shed. Probably trying to steal her lawn mower and sell it for drugs.”

“I’m not on drugs,” I protest. The Courier laughs; at least someone is finding humour in all this.

“You all are,” says the old man. “You probably have a knife, as well.”

“You could put any kid in this spot and that old woman would say that’s who she saw in the garden.”

I’ve horrified the old man. “Are you calling Margo a liar?”

“I think he is,” says the Courier, enjoying himself until the police arrive.

It’s not long before I can hear a car and judging by the curtain twitching from every house on the street I know it’s the police without having to look around. It’s just my luck to get a policeman eager to break the world record for the fastest response to crime in progress. I’m sure the Courier has phoned him directly.

All I wanted to do was ask Jo out. Why is everything I ever do marred by unrelenting problems? Nothing ever seems to go right for me. Will this continue into my late teens, early twenties?

The police car pulls up in front of the Courier’s van and I can see eager heads bobbing about in gardens down the street. A father has even put his child on his shoulders to watch the teenager get arrested; they’ll probably start chanting for me to be tasered. I’m going to be arrested for a crime I didn’t commit. Maybe Jo will hear about this in school on Monday and she’ll rush to see me in court before I’m sentenced? Maybe not.

The policeman unfolds himself from the car and begins to walk his six foot six frame over to Jo’s garden. He’s the same age as the Courier and looks like he’d be better suited to smashing down the doors of suspected drug dealers, or chasing rioters with a shield and bat. The Courier has left his post hoping to meet the policeman and give his version of events before I get the chance. The old man also has his back to me, but that doesn’t stop him pointing at me.

I decide, against better judgement, to make a run for it.

It’s difficult to know who shouted first, the old man, the Courier or the policeman. As I jump the front gate I can hear all three at once; and as I frantically run in the direction that has the least spectators, I realise that the Courier and the policeman are giving chase. Whatever story the Courier told him must have done the job because the look on the policeman’s face tells me I’m in deep trouble if he catches me. I’ve never been a keen runner but I have found that when pushed it can change.

I look on this whole episode as an argument for why we need email and social networking sites rather than face to face communication. I know all this could’ve been avoided by simply sending a text message to her, but I thought maybe knocking on her door might add to the romance. I’m still thinking about this as I take the next turn off the street.

And a car hits me.

Or maybe I hit the car, both seem plausible as the car was going under the speed limit and I was trying to break the speed limit when we connected.

There’s a scream and I glance up to see a man, early forties, his face as white as chalk sat behind the wheel and doing his best to comprehend that he’s just hit a child with his car. I’m surprised to see Jo in the passenger seat, hands over her mouth in shock. I smile at her as I slowly begin to slide off the bonnet and onto the road.

The Courier and the policeman have caught me up and are trying to help me. I try to count how many organs have ruptured being careful not to confuse winding with internal haemorrhaging but the way this morning is going I wouldn’t rule out a slow and painful death.

Jo climbs out of the car and kneels down beside me; she is crying and gathers my head (still attached to my body) in her arms. She’s been riding horses, there’s a strong smell of manure. Her long blonde hair falls across her face and she looks gorgeous, if a little puffy eyed. She strokes my forehead and tells me it will be alright, and that I’m not to worry.

 

Her dad hitting me meant not only was there no objection to me taking Jo out on a date but I also got to pick the film. She still flatly denies there was any cryingor head holding, she claims she stayed in the car until the ambulance arrived.

FAMILY TRAGEDY SERIES: JOURNEY OF HELL by Geethi Karsharma | GBAMLOG.COM

She never gave a thought of marrying a handsome guy but she wished to marry a person who understands and respects her.

I’m here to narrate a story of a women who is a victim of violence. Are parents itself enemies to a women?

A poor parents gave birth to 9 children. Now,our story revolves around the 5th person. During her childhood she was not that pampered, only because of her looks. She was given less importance among the 9 children. She was sent to a government school where others to private. Her father thought that investing on her would not bring any profit. Her mom was also not that caring.

She was graduated with a B.com degree, still she wasn’t happy because no one was there to appreciate her success. She spent a lot sleepless nights and filled with depression. Later on when she was at the age of 21, she wanted to marry a person who understands her. According to her faith, she has to face problems because of her husband too.

She got married on 22-03-2018 and it is a dark day for her. Her parents were in search of selecting a groom for her as soon as she was graduated. She never gave a thought of marrying a handsome guy but she wished to marry a person who understands and respects her.

During her matchmaking process, her father got a call by the priest. Then her father immediately went to groom’s house for a matchmaking interview. Groom’s mother told her father about the affair of her son that he married other caste girl without their acceptance and now they wanted their son to get married to their caste girl. That cruel father didn’t even think about future of his daughter and immediately agreed to their proposal and he didn’t reveal about groom’s affair to anyone.

She was very happy and thought that she is marrying a person of her dreams but, she never thought that the dreams would fade out one day. Naturally after marriage she got to know about her husband , she immediately went to her parents and questioned them but there was no response. She alone faced all the problems in her life. She was beaten brutally by that drunkard husband. Now she sacrificed her life and adjusting for her children

Over thousands of women are facing this problem around the world.In India, government introduced many schemes for the welfare of women but there is no use. It depends on the mindsets of the people.Is there no solution for this problem? Yes, there is a solution. The best way to stop this violence is to raise your voice against the people who are troubling you,never adjust for each and everything, fight back.

“Before telling your daughter not to go out alone,Tell your son not to harass any women.”

TRAGIC ROMANCE: THE BROKEN HEART by Jose Heavena | GBAMLOG.COM

TTRTTThe journey of a kind hearted girl, who has to face lots of difficulties post- marriage.

Kia is a kind-hearted, sensitive and a charming girl. She loves her family a lot. Her parents encorage and pamper her. She had graduated in Biotechnology from a reputed Institution. She had worked as a Lecturer and everyone loves her, because of her helping tendency. Kia  loves adventures and she has lots of ambitions in her life.

Kia wants to pursue PhD, but she gets married at the age of 26. Her marriage is a pure arranged marriage and it takes place in a small town in Tamilnadu. On 9th May 2016, she got married to Krish. Kia’s dad hold her hands and walk towards the aisle. Everyone’s eyes get fixed on Kia as she walks on the red carpet. Kia looks adorable in her beautiful white gown.Her marriage takes place grandly with her friends and relatives.

Krish is an employee,working for IT sales in Mumbai. He is the only son who is loved by his family a lot. Krish is a well of and male egoistic person. He values people based on their money and fame. Kia gets relocated to Mumbai after marriage. Everything seems to be fine and good at the start and she gets conceived and gives birth to an adorable bary girl named Ria, on May 8th,2017. All the members in her family becomes happy.

Days passes and Krish’s parents torture Kia both physically and mentally. They beat and abuse her.Kia bears everything for her daughter, because she does’nt want Ria to separate from her dad.Krish’s mom says to Kia, that she is not capable for her son. Kia’s heart gets broken and she cries terribly. Krish is always busy in his life with his work and watching football matches at night,without even considering Kia. Kia remains all alone in that home.  Kia informs this to Krish, but he tells her to adjust and live.

One fine day, Kia makes her mind and comes to her dad’s house with Ria. Kia’s parents support and encourage her to become an author and she finally becomes an author.Kia works hard to fulfill all her child’s needs. Kia made up her mind that she will not go back to Mumbai to her inlaws house.

When Kia was alone in Mumbai,she used to pray a lot and she believed only god can heal her wounds. Kia wants to give Ria a good life with good moral values and manners. Kia lives for Ria and she hopes Ria would take care of her in the future.