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My Contents As a Freelance Writer

I am an SEO Content Writer with artistic skillfulness in weaving words to create beautiful content. I can help you write high-quality informative and engaging content for your brand/website to increase your brand/website visibility and skyrocket your sales. I do this with dexterity and absolute refinement at an affordable price to your satisfaction.  Need help with editing and proofreading your manuscripts? I am the go-to person to help you correct any errors and make sure every word is finely knitted into one beautiful piece. What's more? I'll develop your ideas into written thoughts and you'll have a write-up to your name. Let me be your Ghostwriter. Need proof to convince you? Explore! Below are links to some of my content on ng.ewtnet.com. and eventpillar.com Content on eventpillar.com (an event blog).  https://eventpillar.com/blog/blog/nigerian-marriage-introduction-ultimate-guide/ Contents on ng.ewtnet.com (a blog for a variety of topics). https://ng.ewtnet.com/lifest
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My Poetry

E GO BE One day, One day, as I go dey waka for road I go see say my street be like abroad And for night wen I reach bustop enter Ojuelegba bus I no go too fear say dem fit kidnap us enter koro. I been sidon the oda day ask myself one question "Wetin go make me finish school come go do coper shun"? Shey na for dis very country wey everything don dabaru? Wey people wey no sabi talk better say na their turn to rule? As e be so, everybody don taya, no cap But I sha get hope for mind say good thing fit still happen As dem don talk say light dey at the end of tunnel wey we go use see After all, we all don too waka waka and suffer, but e go be. I don reason am say I go fit use dis hope hold body Unto say some kain things been don already occur wey bloody Make I just dey watch dey pray say time go reach Make I for fit japa, come look sapa for face Tell am say, "O boy! E go be, see you never" N.B: This is my first pidgin poem which has been published in the longest surviving
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Monologue

Let it be known this day that I hated this place. The air. The scenery. Everything. And it's because of you and how you make me feel–disgusted. When I tried to warm up to you, you pushed me away with your nastiness. The taste of bitter sorrow lingers in my throat. It hurts. To see you go back to who you used to be. It hurts me to watch you move about the house in bitter silence and hypocrisy. I had thought you changed. I was mistaken; this is you—the leopard can't change its spots. I'm going far away from here. We don't belong together; to each other. I need peace and I'm all out to find it. I'll go very far away from you and destroy all the memories —both the good ones. I'll destroy them because it doesn't make sense to keep them. How can one be so unfair to someone trying to love you —work on yourself!  How did we get here? Every time I try to build, you scatter into a thousand pieces with an issue the size of a grain of sand—why? How do you cope with
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MYSTERY

 BREATHE Tyson woke up that morning feeling nervous. George was in danger. The whole scene of George's death kept flashing through his mind the whole day which made him feel uncomfortable. He sat with his chin cupped in the hollow of his palm, as he pondered on what he could do to save George's life. His phone beeped. It was a text message from George and it read, "I need to see you, Tyson". Tyson's heart skipped a beat. This had happened in his dream. The horrifying scene flashed through his mind. What was he to do? Only George and Tyson's parents knew George had a special gift of discerning future danger. At age 10, he discovered that whatsoever posed danger to someone's life and eventually killed the person was shown to him in his dream. When his grandfather died, he had seen it even before the old man became sick.  Two nights ago, he had seen George in his dream drowning in a pool of turbulent water. He tried to save him but a force was pulling George
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MEMORIES

 MY FOOD STORY Mama calls out to us and we surround her, jiving in ecstasy. The smiles on our faces tell you that we will soon fill our stomachs with ofe oha and pounded yam. Excitedly, we take turns jumping into the drawn squares on the ground, throwing up stones and marking imaginary houses. No day passes when we don't play this game, but today seems to be a lucky day for us. "Nnenna, come and wash these palm nuts!" Mama instructed. It was dusk and mama was almost done with cooking. The aroma filled the small kitchen sending saliva down our throats. As we washed our hands, we eyed mama as she served pounded yam into our clay slates. The oldest will always have the privilege of choosing first and the last is left with the smallest portion.  "My own is small o, Mama" I complained as others sat down to devour theirs. "I bu onye oriri!" Mama chided me while my siblings laughed. I reluctantly sat down and stared at their big-sized portion, sulking. I had
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MY OPINION ON AI INVENTION

 ONE DAY, WRITERS WOULD LOSE THEIR JOBS TO AI. TRUE OR FALSE? Lex AI was asked in a chat, "what skills do humans have that Artificial Intelligence does not have?" The answer was, "Humans have many skills that Artificial Intelligence does not have, such as creativity, intuition, empathy, problem-solving ability, and abstract thinking. Humans also have the ability to learn from experience while AI may require additional programming to do so." This answer is a shred of undeniable evidence of the fallibility that one day, writers would lose their jobs to AI. One would think that the invention and growth of AI in the 21st century is more of a curse than a blessing. The precision with which it produces results has thrown many writers off balance and when you think about it, human writers may not be relevant anymore. But, nothing beats human creativity. Humans are designed to think creatively; weave words in their most original form and create a spark in the hearts of thei
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My Dream World

 A Peek Into the Future  It was a clear Monday morning. The sun had begun its illumination process. An Uber ride pulled up close to me. "Where are you heading, ma'am?", a robotic voice resounding from the steering asked. "Take me to Jatto Building Complex, please," I said as I quickly ducked into the still-running car. It was a few minutes before the time of my interview but I wasn't worried. There was no reason to be worried, anyway. The roads were silver-tarred and "heavy traffic" was now history. I looked out the window, and as always, I could not help but smile. It was a smile of satisfaction. My village environment has been transformed into a 'haven.' Every person had a "bot attendant" at their service. Large markets and local restaurants had been replaced by sophisticated shopping malls and restaurants that had " bot attendants" to welcome customers, who blushed at the warm reception they receive anytime they stepp
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