Storyscape With Oluwasegun

In Nigeria’s unpredictable economic environment, failure is more than just an obstacle; it’s a crucial component of business strategy. Understanding how to leverage failure can turn economic challenges into opportunities for growth and resilience. Here’s how the business of failure can specifically impact Nigerian companies and entrepreneurs: 1. Learning and Growth Amid Economic Volatility - Adapting to Economic Shifts: Nigeria’s economy is marked by significant fluctuations, such as fluctuating oil prices, inflation, and currency instability. Companies that fail due to these issues gain valuable insights that help them adapt their business models. For instance, businesses that faced challenges due to currency devaluation might pivot to sourcing materials locally or adjusting pricing strategies to maintain profitability. - Building Resilience : Navigating economic downturns builds resilience. Businesses that learn from their failures develop strategies to better handle fut

Intrapreneurship is the practice of fostering entrepreneurial behavior within a larger organization. Intrapreneurs are employees within an organization who think and act like entrepreneurs. They take initiative to develop new ideas, products, or processes, driving innovation and change from within the company. Unlike traditional entrepreneurs, intrapreneurs leverage the resources and support of their employer to pursue their innovative projects while still being part of the corporate structure. The Value of Intrapreneurs 1. Innovation Catalyst: Intrapreneurs are often the driving force behind innovation in large organizations. They have the freedom to explore new ideas and take calculated risks without the constraints that often come with traditional roles. 2. Agility in Large Corporations : Large organizations can sometimes become bogged down by bureaucracy and a risk-averse culture. Intrapreneurs help these companies remain agile by spearheading projects that might othe

Love is something we all feel, and we show it in different ways. Long ago, people would express love by saying sweet words, doing things to help, giving gifts, spending time together, and holding hands. But now, with our phones and computers, love can be shown in new ways. Saying Sweet Words with Messages In the past, people would say "I love you" face-to-face or write it in a letter. Today, we do this through messages on WhatsApp, Facebook, or Instagram. A simple "Good morning" or "I miss you" in a text message can make someone feel special.  Even sending a heart emoji or a cute sticker can show that you care. But we need to be careful because sometimes, without hearing a voice or seeing a face, messages can be misunderstood. Helping Each Other Through Technology Helping your partner used to mean doing things like cooking, running errands, or fixing something in the house. Now, you can help each other through your phone

I never thought I’d find myself here, sitting across from you, baring my soul like this. But I can’t keep it inside anymore. The weight of what I’ve done is crushing me, and I need to confess. Maybe then, I can find a way to make things right if that’s even possible. Chijioke, my husband, he’s a good man. A kind, hopeful man who has always believed that if he just kept trying, if he just held on, things would get better. For 15 years, he’s worked tirelessly, trying to pull us out of poverty, always thinking the next opportunity would be the one to change our lives. But what he never knew, what I’ve kept hidden from him all this time, is that I’ve been the reason for our misery. I’m the one who’s kept us trapped in this cycle of poverty and despair. You see, I come from a line of women with dark powers witches. For years, I buried that part of me, tried to live a normal life. But as the years went on and our struggles seemed endless, I began to resent Chijioke. His optimism,

I met Tunde when I was 26. He was my first love, the man who made me believe in forever. We spent 11 years together, sharing dreams, laughter, and countless secrets. He disvirgined me, and I believed in our love so deeply that I sacrificed everything for him, even enduring the pain of aborting pregnancies six times because he wasn't ready to be a father. But now, at 37, I face the harsh truth my body can no longer carry a child. Tunde, ever the sweet talker, promised marriage, insisting that I had been the foundation of his success. I supported him through thick and thin, helping him rise in his career. But on the day of our traditional engagement, everything fell apart. His parents revealed in court that another woman was pregnant with his child, and they were already planning a wedding for him and this new woman. I was devastated, but my siblings urged me to continue with the marriage. "You've come too far to turn back now," they said. Torn between their

I sit alone in my small room, the Bible resting on my lap. The verses, once so familiar, seem distant now, as if they belong to another life. I close my eyes and try to find comfort in prayer, but the words catch in my throat. My heart is heavy with the burden of what I’ve done, and I’m unsure if I can ever truly forgive myself. The memory of that day is as sharp as the cane I used. I see Chibuzor’s innocent face, hear his cries, and feel the weight of the cane in my hand. It was meant to teach him a lesson, to correct him, but instead, I took his life. I can’t escape that truth, no matter how hard I try. The trial is over, but my soul is not at peace. Judge Olayinka was kind, I suppose, considering what could have been. He did not send me to prison; instead, he asked that I serve the community and care for the children, the ones I can still help. He also ordered me to support Nneka, to help ease the burden of her loss.  But was it fair? Was his decision just? I wonder if h

It was October 2010 when I joined a very popular school in my area. The school was well-known, and I was excited to be a part of it. I remember the first day vividly, and I might even have a picture of myself from back then. I’ll check my phone album tomorrow morning and drop it in the comments section. The school had a supervisor, a man from the Auchi tribe in Edo State. He was a close friend of the proprietor, who was unfortunately terminally ill at the time (he has since passed away). The supervisor’s two sons, David and his younger brother, Mark, were both on full scholarship, courtesy of the proprietor. The supervisor’s job was mainly to ensure everything at the school was running smoothly. It was the biggest and most popular school in the area back then, with separate locations for the primary and secondary sections. The supervisor’s wife, who everyone affectionately called Mummy David, was a completely different personality from her husband. She was a lovely soul—fun