20250901

FROM SUNDAY SHADOWS TO FRIDAY FREEDOM

-WARD9ICE-

The Nollywood‑worthy drama of a Nigerian workweek

Starring: Alarms, Danfos, and the quiet Heroism of Showing Up


PROLOGUE - THE WEEK Nigeria, Monday isn’t just a day. It’s a production AS CINEMA

The cast: Millions of everyday heroes.

The soundtrack: Generators, street hawkers, and the occasional motivational WhatsApp broadcast.

The plot: A journey to weekday battle — and back again from weekend bliss.

Lead Actor: Solomon, takes us through the three‑act epic we all know too well.

 

ACT ONE - SUNDAY NIGHT: THE SILENT WAR

8:59 p.m. — The weekend is still breathing, but barely.
The fan hums. A neighbour’s generator coughs.
WhatsApp family groups erupt with blessings:

“Good night o, blessed week ahead, in Jesus’ name!”Aunty Blessing

Solomon replies with a single emoji, while calculating how many hours of sleep he’ll get if he closes his eyes right now.

Then he sees it — the shirt he wash.
He stares was supposed to. He shrugs.

“We go manage am like that. Nobody died from wearing a shirt twice.”

By 11:00 p.m., he’s lying in the dark, eyes wide, the narrator’s voice echoing:

“Little did Solomon know… the real battle had not yet begun.”

ACT TWO - MONDAY MORNING: THE HERO’S RETURN

The alarm explodes like a villain’s laugh.
Solomon rises in slow motion, duvet sliding off like a royal cape.

Wardrobe inspection becomes troop review.
In the kitchen, steam rises from his tea like ancestral blessings.

“Ah… this is not tea. This is courage in liquid form.”

EXT. STREET - MORNING
Danfo buses screech. Okadas weave. Hawkers dart between cars with trays of gala and plantain chips balanced like Olympic torches.

A conductor leans out:

“Ojuelegba! Enter with your change o!”

Solomon adjusts his shirt and mutters:

“Today, Monday will not disgrace me.”

The narrator booms:

“And so, Solomon stepped into the battlefield of Monday… armed with courage, caffeine, and the unshakable hope that Friday would come quickly.”

ACT THREE - FRIDAY EVENING: THE SWEET REDEMPTION

The sun dips low, painting Abuja in gold.
The clock ticks toward 5:00 p.m. like a drumbeat of freedom.

Then… it happens.
The soundtrack bursts into jubilant highlife.
Solomon stands, gathering his things with man who has fought the swagger of a the good fight and won.

On the street, the air tastes sweeter.
Hawkers wave gala like victory flags.
Okadas zoom past, danfo conductors still shouting, but today their voices sound like a celebration.

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