Tera Mayo Funny Storyteller, Moncton, NB (2025)

11/18/2025

cos Pressure Plenty, Expectations High.
Me realizing December is next month, and the only thing I have saved is my life😭

11/18/2025

I cried all the way back to the palace, my heart breaking with every step. I had found love—but lost it in the same breath.
Would Chuka ever forgive me for lying to him?
storytera.com/stories/114

11/18/2025

Walk in the valley of the shadow of death

11/18/2025

The Princess Who Pretended to Be a Maid to Find True Love
Episode 1: The Hidden Crown of Princess Amara
I was born with everything most girls prayed for—wealth, beauty, respect, and power. My name is Princess Amara, the only daughter of King Obieze of Umuako kingdom. From birth, people bowed when they saw me. Servants rushed to do my bidding, and no one dared to question my words. But what is the use of a crown if it cages your heart?

All my life, I was surrounded by men who only wanted me because of my father’s throne. Some came with sweet words, others with gifts, but I could see the greed in their eyes. None of them loved me for who I was. I wanted to be loved as Amara—the woman—not as Princess Amara, the royal daughter of Umuako.

It all began one rainy afternoon when I overheard two of the palace maids whispering near the kitchen.

“Have you heard? The young carpenter from the next village built the King’s new chair. He’s so humble and hardworking,” one of them said.

Something about that word—humble—hit my chest deeply. I was tired of prideful men who only dressed in royal robes but had empty hearts. That night, I made a decision that changed my destiny forever.

I decided to leave the palace and live among common people. I wanted to see the world from their eyes, to understand what love truly meant.

The next morning, I stood before my mirror. I took off my golden earrings, removed the beaded crown on my head, and packed my long hair into a simple scarf. I wore one of the maid’s faded wrappers and rubbed ashes on my face to hide my fair skin. I looked at myself and almost didn’t recognize the reflection. The Princess of Umuako had become a poor maid.

With the help of Nwakaego, my childhood nurse, I sneaked out of the palace through the old goat path that led to the marketplace. My heart raced as I walked, feeling both fear and freedom at the same time.

By evening, I found myself in a small village called Obele. The place was peaceful, surrounded by tall palm trees and the sweet smell of roasted corn. I met Mama Ifeoma, an old woman who owned a food stall near the village square. She looked at me with suspicion when I begged her for work.

“Who are you, my daughter? You don’t look like someone from this village,” she asked.

“I’m Amara,” I replied softly. “My parents are gone. I need work to survive.”

She studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright. You can help me serve food. But I pay small-small, o. No palace money here.”

Her words almost made me laugh. If only she knew that the ‘maid’ before her was a princess with more gold than she could ever imagine. But I stayed humble, nodding my head. That night, I slept on a bamboo mat beside her kitchen. The ground was hard, but my heart was light.

Days turned into weeks. I woke early every morning to fetch water, wash plates, and serve customers. The people liked me because I never complained. Some called me ‘the quiet one,’ others said I was too fine to be a maid. I ignored them all.

One afternoon, while I was sweeping in front of the stall, a young man walked by. He wore a simple shirt and had sweat glistening on his forehead. He was tall, with dark skin and eyes that carried both sadness and strength.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted politely.

“Good afternoon, sir,” I replied shyly.

He smiled. “Don’t call me sir. My name is Chuka.”

That name would later change my life.

Chuka was the village carpenter. He often came to fix Mama Ifeoma’s broken tables or chairs. Sometimes, he stayed to eat after work. He was respectful, hardworking, and spoke with wisdom beyond his years. Every time he talked, my heart listened closely. Unlike the princes and suitors I knew, he didn’t boast about himself. He didn’t know I was a princess, and that was exactly how I wanted it.

We became friends. He told me stories about his late mother and how he was saving money to build her a proper grave. I told him I was an orphan searching for peace. He never pitied me, and I liked that. He treated me like a human being, not a princess or a helpless girl.

One evening, the moon was full, and we sat under a mango tree after closing Mama Ifeoma’s stall. The night air was cool, filled with the sound of crickets.

“Amara,” he said softly. “You are different. You don’t talk much, but when you smile, the world feels lighter. I don’t have much, but I wish I could make you happy every day.”

My heart pounded so hard I thought he could hear it. That was the first time anyone had spoken to me like that—with honesty, not greed.

But love is never that simple.

The next week, the King sent soldiers across neighboring villages. My father had fallen sick, and word spread that the Princess had gone missing. The royal guards came to Obele searching for clues. They moved from house to house, shouting my name.

That evening, Chuka and I were washing plates when we heard the sound of horses.

“Everyone come out!” one of the guards commanded. “The missing Princess of Umuako is believed to be in this village!”

Fear gripped my heart. If they found me, my secret would be over. The love I was beginning to build would crumble before my eyes.

Chuka looked at me, confused by my trembling hands.

“Amara, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Before I could answer, one of the guards’ torches shone directly on my face. The ashes on my skin had faded from sweat, and my real complexion was visible. The guard’s eyes widened in shock.

“It’s her! The Princess!” he shouted.

The villagers gasped. Mama Ifeoma dropped her pot. Chuka stepped back, his mouth open in disbelief.

“You… you’re a Princess?” he whispered.

Tears filled my eyes. “Chuka, please listen. I only wanted to find someone who could love me for me—not for my crown.”

But he didn’t answer. His eyes turned cold, filled with pain and betrayal.

The guards dragged me away from the village that night. I cried all the way back to the palace, my heart breaking with every step. I had found love—but lost it in the same breath.
Would Chuka ever forgive me for lying to him?
Would my father’s kingdom ever accept the kind of love I desired?
Or had I just destroyed the only true connection I ever had?
Find out in Episode 2 here right Now below👇:
https://storytera.com/stories/114/episodes/11402 📺
Episode 3 is also here:
https://storytera.com/stories/114/episodes/11403 📺
Kindly like👍, share✔️ and comment✏️ your own view to this story🙏.

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NOTE TO READERS:
use the links above to read episode 2 to 3.
This is just episode 1 out of the full 3 Episodes. All episodes are available for free on StoryTera

11/17/2025

The Nurse Who Saved My Life Turned Out to Be My Sister
Episode 1: The Accident That Changed Everything
I never thought a single day could change my life forever, but that day in Lagos did. My name is Chijioke, a 28-year-old businessman, living what I thought was a normal life filled with ambition, friends, and dreams. That morning started like any other. I was rushing to a meeting with a client when a speeding car, carelessly overtaking on a busy road, hit me. Everything went black before I even realized what happened.

I woke up hours later in a hospital, my body aching in ways I couldn’t even describe. The beeping of machines and the antiseptic smell were overwhelming. My first thought was panic—who would pay for the hospital bills, who would check on my business, who would save me if this was the end? But then I saw her.

A nurse in a neat white uniform was attending to me with care I had never felt before. Her name tag read “Ngozi.” She had dark, gentle eyes that looked straight into mine, and somehow, in that terrifying moment, I felt a strange calmness. She checked my vitals, adjusted my drip, and even whispered words of encouragement.

“You’re strong, Chijioke. Just focus on breathing. You’ll get through this,” she said softly.

Days passed, and Ngozi never left my side. She was always there during rounds, quietly observing, helping me with medicine, and sometimes just sitting beside me, keeping me company when the pain became unbearable. I started to feel something I hadn’t expected—gratitude, admiration, and then something more confusing, something dangerous. My mind kept wandering to her smile, the way she held my hand gently, and how she made me feel alive when death had just brushed past me.

But life has a strange way of hiding the truth. One evening, while recovering from surgery, my father visited the hospital. He looked uneasy as he glanced at Ngozi. Then, he called me to the side and whispered words that froze my blood.

“Chijioke… Ngozi is your sister. Your mother had a child before you, and we lost touch years ago. She’s the nurse caring for you now.”

I couldn’t believe it. My heart felt like it was going to explode. The same person I had been secretly admiring, fantasizing about in my mind during my recovery, was my own sister. I wanted to scream, to run away, to wake up and find it was all a nightmare—but it wasn’t. It was real.

From that moment, every look, every gesture, every moment of closeness between us felt like a dangerous secret. I didn’t know how to process the feelings that had started as admiration and had now transformed into something forbidden. The guilt was heavy, the shame unbearable. But there was also fear—what if this secret came out? How could I explain my thoughts to anyone? What would happen if Ngozi ever found out what I had felt before knowing the truth?

Ngozi continued her work as if nothing had changed, unaware that my heart was caught between shock, confusion, and an unsettling attachment. I realized then that life is fragile, and love, when tangled with ignorance and secrets, can be dangerous. I had to survive, but surviving was harder when the truth kept tormenting me.

I began to notice little things that made me question our family story. Why had she never mentioned our parents? Why did she seem so familiar to me, like a memory I couldn’t place? Could it be that fate had twisted our lives in ways no one could foresee? And most importantly, how would I deal with these feelings that were morally impossible, yet emotionally overwhelming?

Every night, I struggled to sleep. My dreams were haunted by images of the accident, the hospital, and Ngozi’s face. The once comforting presence of my nurse had become a source of terrifying temptation, and I knew I had to find answers before my mind, heart, and conscience completely collapsed under the weight of secrets and forbidden emotions.

But the most shocking part was still ahead. I didn’t yet know that Ngozi also carried secrets—secrets about her past, about our parents, and about why she had come back into my life as my caretaker. Secrets that could shatter everything I thought I knew about family, love, and trust.

The hospital room felt colder that night. I stared at the ceiling, asking myself questions I could not answer. How could I continue seeing her without losing myself? And more importantly, could I ever forgive myself for feelings that should never exist between a brother and a sister?
Will Chijioke be able to control his forbidden feelings for Ngozi? What secrets is Ngozi hiding about their past, and why has she appeared in his life at this precise moment? Can love and family survive such shocking truths, or is everything doomed from the start?
Find out in Episode 2 here right Now below👇:
https://storytera.com/stories/113/episodes/11302 📺
Episode 3 is also here:
https://storytera.com/stories/113/episodes/11303 📺
Kindly like👍, share✔️ and comment✏️ your own view to this story🙏.

❤️‍🔥If you copy🚫 my story and paste⚠️ it on your own page, remember I sabi how to find and rèpørt⛔️ your pàge🤗.

NOTE TO READERS:
use the links above to read episode 2 to 3.
This is just episode 1 out of the full 3 Episodes. All episodes are available for free on StoryTera

11/16/2025

Could Ada’s twin really still be alive after all these years? ゚viralシ

11/16/2025

Title: The Day I Discovered My Girlfriend’s Twin Died 10 Years Ago.
Episode 1: The Mysterious Family Secret.
I never thought a casual dinner at Ada’s house would change my life forever. Ada and I had been dating for two years. She was beautiful, kind, and smart—a perfect girlfriend by every standard. We lived in a quiet neighborhood in Lagos, and I thought I knew everything about her. But that night, I realized I had been living a lie, or maybe I had been blind to the truth.

Ada’s parents had invited me for dinner. Her mother, Mrs. Balogun, was polite but distant, and her father, Mr. Balogun, hardly said a word. I didn’t mind; I was used to quiet homes. What caught my attention, though, was a photograph on the living room wall. It was of Ada and another girl, both in school uniforms, smiling at the camera. But something was off.

“Who is she?” I asked Ada, pointing at the photo.

Ada’s face froze. She looked at her mother, and I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. “That’s… um… my twin sister,” she said quietly.

I blinked. “Twin sister? I never knew you had a twin!”

Ada shook her head. “I… I didn’t want to talk about her. It’s a long story.”

I felt a chill. Something in her tone told me this wasn’t just a normal family story. I pressed further. “What happened to her?”

Ada looked away, her eyes wet. “She… she died ten years ago. It was an accident. My family doesn’t like talking about it.”

I didn’t know what to say. Ten years? I had been dating Ada for two years, and not once had she mentioned her twin. My mind raced with questions. How could she hide something so big from me? Was she afraid I would treat her differently? Or was there something darker behind her silence?

Dinner was tense. Ada barely ate, and her parents seemed to avoid looking at me. After we left, I couldn’t stop thinking about the photograph. There was something strange about it. Something about the eyes of the girl next to Ada. They seemed… too alive. Too familiar.

A few days later, I decided to visit Ada’s neighborhood, under the guise of surprise. I wanted to meet the neighbors, maybe hear more about her family. That’s when I met Mrs. Adebayo, an elderly neighbor who had known Ada since she was born.

“Oh, Ada’s twin?” Mrs. Adebayo said, her voice trembling. “Poor girl… such a tragedy. I still remember that day. Everyone thought Ada survived, but her sister… she didn’t make it. Such a shame.”

I frowned. “Survived? You mean Ada’s twin actually died?”

“Yes, my dear,” Mrs. Adebayo said, shaking her head. “Ten years ago, there was a fire in their house. One girl didn’t make it. People said the other girl was lucky… but I always wondered… sometimes, I see her twin walking around in the neighborhood at night, just staring at the house. It’s eerie.”

I left, my heart pounding. I tried to brush it off as just an old woman’s superstition, but later that night, I saw something strange. While walking past Ada’s house, I thought I saw her twin in the window—exactly like Ada, but with a hollow look in her eyes. When I blinked, she was gone.

The more I thought about it, the more I questioned everything about Ada. Why had she hidden this? Was it grief, shame, or something else? And why did I feel like her twin’s presence was still haunting their home?

The next morning, I called Ada. I wanted to talk about the twin, to understand the truth. But when she answered, her voice was different—cold, distant. “Can we not talk about this right now?” she said.

I felt a knot in my stomach. Something was very wrong. Ada was hiding more than just a past tragedy. And I had a sinking feeling that discovering the truth might destroy everything I thought I knew about her.

That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn’t sleep. Every creak of the house, every shadow on the wall, seemed to whisper her twin’s name. I realized then that I was no longer just curious—I was scared. Scared of what Ada had not told me, and scared of what I might uncover if I dug deeper.
Was it really possible that Ada’s twin was still… around? And if so, what did it mean for us, for our love, and for the life we had been building together?
Could Ada’s twin really still be alive after all these years? What secret was Ada hiding from me, and why was her family so determined to keep it buried? Would I be able to handle the truth if it came out?
Find out in Episode 2 here right Now below👇:
https://storytera.com/stories/112/episodes/11202 📺
Episode 3 is also here:
https://storytera.com/stories/112/episodes/11203 📺
Kindly like👍, share✔️ and comment✏️ your own view to this story🙏.

❤️‍🔥If you copy🚫 my story and paste⚠️ it on your own page, remember I sabi how to find and rèpørt⛔️ your pàge🤗.

NOTE TO READERS:
use the links above to read episode 2 to 3.
This is just episode 1 out of the full 3 Episodes. All episodes are available for free on StoryTera

11/15/2025

Who exactly was the man that called himself Chuka?
read the full gist on storytera.com/stories/111

11/15/2025

The Rich Guy Who Paid My Bride Price Disappeared After the Wedding
Episode 1: The Day My Dreams Came True and Then Turned to Dust
My name is Amara. I grew up in a small town where every girl’s dream was to marry a rich and handsome man who would change her life forever. I never believed such dreams could come true for someone like me until I met Chuka—the man who paid my bride price and vanished a few days after our wedding.

It all started one hot afternoon when I was returning from the market. My mother had sent me to buy garri and pepper, but I decided to take a shortcut through the street where big men usually parked their flashy cars. That was where I first saw him—leaning on a black Range Rover, dressed in white native attire that looked like it was made from gold.

He smiled when he saw me. “Excuse me, pretty lady, please can I talk to you for a minute?”

I almost ignored him, but something about his calm voice made me stop. His name was Chuka. He said he was into real estate and importation business. I didn’t understand much of what that meant, but the way he talked, the confidence, and his expensive perfume made me believe he was someone great.

From that day, my life changed. Chuka started calling me every day. He sent gifts to my mother, bought clothes for my younger siblings, and even gave me money to stop selling akara by the roadside. In just two months, he asked for my hand in marriage.

My parents were shocked. They asked if I was sure I knew him well enough. But when they saw the bags of rice, the drinks, and the envelopes full of money he brought for introduction, their doubts disappeared. Everyone in my family said I was lucky. My mother even knelt and thanked God, saying, “Amara’s time has come.”

The wedding day was like a movie. The hall was filled with expensive decorations, food flowed like water, and Chuka’s friends came in convoys. People in the village whispered that I had married a billionaire. My friends envied me, and even my ex-boyfriend, Emeka, who had once rejected me because I was poor, stood outside the hall watching bitterly.

I thought I had finally found love. But I was wrong.

After our wedding, we lodged in a five-star hotel in Lagos for our honeymoon. Chuka treated me like a queen. He bought me a gold necklace and whispered, “You’re my everything.” That night, we talked about our future—our dream house, children, and the business he wanted to set up for me. I couldn’t stop smiling.

But by the third day, things started to feel strange. He received a phone call at midnight. I woke up and saw him pacing around the room. His face was pale, his voice low. When I asked who it was, he said it was a business partner. The next morning, he told me he needed to travel to Abuja urgently.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said, kissing my forehead. “It’s just for two days. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He left with only a small bag and his phone.

That was the last time I saw him.

Two days passed. Then one week. Then two weeks. No call, no message, nothing. I called his number repeatedly, but it was always switched off. I tried contacting his friends, but none of them picked up. His driver, whom I once saw, also disappeared.

I went to the estate address he once showed me, only to find out that no one named Chuka had ever lived there. The gate man looked at me with pity and said, “Madam, this place don’t get anybody like that. Many women don come here ask for that name.”

My legs went weak. I sat on the floor and cried. The man I thought was my husband had vanished into thin air.

When I went back to my parents’ house, the joy that once filled our compound turned into shame. Neighbours whispered that I had been scammed. My father shouted at me for bringing disgrace to the family. My mother wept, saying she didn’t understand why a man would marry a woman and disappear.

Days turned to weeks, and I kept hoping maybe he was kidnapped or something bad happened to him. But as time passed, reality became clear—Chuka had planned everything.

One evening, while crying on my bed, I opened one of the suitcases he left behind. Inside, I found a hidden envelope with documents bearing another name: “Chukwuma Nnamdi.” There was also an ID card with a different picture that looked like him but younger. My heart raced as I realized the man I married might not even be who he said he was.

Who was Chuka? Why did he disappear after paying my bride price? And what secret was he hiding?
Who exactly was the man that called himself Chuka?
Why would a rich man go through all the stress of marrying someone only to vanish afterward?
Was Amara truly married—or just used for something darker?
Find out in Episode 2 here right Now below👇:
https://storytera.com/stories/111/episodes/11102 📺
Episode 3 is also here:
https://storytera.com/stories/111/episodes/11103 📺
Kindly like👍, share✔️ and comment✏️ your own view to this story🙏.

❤️‍🔥If you copy🚫 my story and paste⚠️ it on your own page, remember I sabi how to find and rèpørt⛔️ your pàge🤗.

NOTE TO READERS:
use the links above to read episode 2 to 3.
This is just episode 1 out of the full 3 Episodes. All episodes are available for free on StoryTera

11/14/2025

To anyone that may want to copy my stories(content), I will report your page I find my content lifted to your page.

You can use the share button to legally share my stories to your page

11/14/2025

To and .

Kindly desist from copy my stories🙏🙏

I use God beg you🙏.

You can always click the share button to share my stories with your friends legally without cøpyright issues.

Tera Mayo Funny Storyteller

11/18/2025

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