Living

I ALMOST BECAME ROASTED CHICKEN BECAUSE OF A SNAPCHAT FILTER.

Listen, my people. I’ve survived Juba potholes, MTN data theft, and village aunties asking “when are you marrying?”
But nothing prepared me for the day my girlfriend tried to burn my house down over a FILTER.

Yes. A FILTER.
Not cheating. Not a baby mama. A FILTER.

My name is Mariano. H.E Ghetto President.
I’ve been dating Sandra for 1 year. Sandra is fine, hot, and has two personalities: Angel when she wants money, and Devil when she sees WhatsApp blue ticks.
Her hobbies? Loving me, and fighting strangers on Twitter like it’s her side hustle.

Me? I’m peaceful. I dodge drama like JEDCO dodges stable electricity.

Now let me tell you how I almost became barbecue.

Saturday evening. I’m at home, drinking malt, minding my business like responsible citizen.
Then BOOM. Door kicked open.

Sandra stormed in, face redder than MTN balance after 2 minutes of YouTube.
Phone in her hand like it was court evidence.

“WHO IS SHE?!” she screamed.

I blinked. “Who is who, madam?”

“The girl in your Snapchat story! The one with green eyes and waist smaller than my future! Who is she?!”

I grabbed her phone.
Checked the evidence.

Bro…
IT WAS ME.

Sandra saw my gender-swap filter and thought I was cheating with myself.
She didn’t even recognize her own boyfriend. 😭😭

At first I laughed.
WRONG MOVE.

“YOU THINK IT’S FUNNY?!” she hissed.
“Sandra, it’s me,” I said, still laughing like idiot.
She snatched the phone: “Mariano, does THIS look like you?!”

I looked again.
Honestly? No.
The filter wiped my beard, deleted my jawline, and gave me Rihanna lips.
I looked like a babe from Instagram selling skincare.

I tried to explain. Sandra was not hearing it.
She started searching my house like ICC prosecutor looking for war crimes.
I saw her smell my pillow. For perfume? For incense? For Holy Spirit? I don’t know.

Then the madness upgraded.

She grabbed my gas lighter and said:
“Mariano, if you don’t confess, I will burn this house and your lies with it.”

MY BLOOD PRESSURE PACKED ITS BAGS AND LEFT.

“Sandra, it’s me o! It’s a FILTER! Check my Snapchat!”
But Sandra was on 100% vibes and violence.
She stormed the kitchen and twisted the gas k**b.

MY SPIRIT WROTE ITS WILL IN 3 SECONDS.

“Sandra, I swear on my grandfather’s grave, it’s me! Let’s take another picture now!”
She paused: “You think I’m stupid?”
“Sandra, before we both turn into suya, just check!”

Finally, she agreed.
I opened Snapchat, hit the same filter, and BOOM — same fine babe appeared.

Sandra gasped: “JESUS! So this was YOU?”
“YES!”

She looked at the phone. Looked at me. Looked back at the phone.
Then burst into laughter so loud, neighbors thought we were fighting for land.

War ended.
House saved.
My heart rate returned from the dead.

But that day I learned:
If your relationship doesn’t give you hypertension, is it even love?

Moral of the story:
Ladies, hide your gas lighter before opening Snapchat.
Men, hide your face before using gender-swap filters.


✍️ Mariano,
Ghetto President 🥷

From the moment I journeyed to GENESIS Hotel through EXODUS Road, I realized life itself is a living scripture filled with lessons, encounters, and revelations.

Along the way, I saw LEVITICUS carefully recording the NUMBERS of people gathered at DEUTERONOMY Square, while JOSHUA stood patiently at the Beautiful Gate, waiting for the JUDGES to witness RUTH calling out passionately, “SAMUEL! SAMUEL!”

Soon after, the First and Second KINGS of CHRONICLES arrived to visit EZRA, NEHEMIAH, and ESTHER following the unfortunate situation surrounding their brother, JOB.

In the midst of sorrow, they lifted their voices in PSALMS and taught the younger generation timeless PROVERBS concerning ECCLESIASTES and the eternal wisdom found in the SONG OF SOLOMON.

At the same moment, ISAIAH was deeply engaged in discussing JEREMIAH’S LAMENTATIONS alongside EZEKIEL and DANIEL, their trusted companion. Yet HOSEA and JOEL were nowhere to be found.

Three days later, AMOS, OBADIAH, and JONAH boarded the same ship with MICAH and NAHUM on a spiritual journey toward Jerusalem. Along the road, HABAKKUK visited ZEPHANIAH, who warmly introduced him to HAGGAI, a close friend of ZACHARIAH, whose cousin was MALACHI.

Immediately after the gathering, MATTHEW, MARK, LUKE, and JOHN became actively involved in the ACTS of the ROMANS, whose behavior closely resembled that of the First CORINTHIANS group, especially because the Second CORINTHIANS remained in constant disagreement with the GALATIANS and EPHESIANS.

Meanwhile, the PHILIPPIANS, who shared a close bond with the COLOSSIANS, advised that during the First THESSALONIANS visit, attention should first be given to the Second THESSALONIANS mission.

They further recommended visiting the brothers, First TIMOTHY and Second TIMOTHY, who had traveled to the house of TITUS to help PHILEMON, their younger brother, learn how to read and write in HEBREW.

Upon hearing these remarkable events, JAMES asked PETER repeatedly to explain how the Three JOHNS had revealed to JUDE the REVELATIONS surrounding the entire journey.

This is more than a story.
It is a reminder that every chapter of life carries wisdom, every journey contains purpose, and every generation must learn to connect knowledge with faith, unity, and understanding.

✍️ Mariano
Ghetto President✊

I MISTAKENLY SLAPPED A SOLDIER AND MY DESTINY TRIED TO RESIGN.

My people, gather here. Yesterday Juba showed me pepper that I will explain to my grandchildren.

I entered bus, minding my business like responsible citizen. Earpiece in, music on, eyes closed. Not my wahala.

Then one man started disturbing the conductor for change. The conductor refused. Before we knew it, they were exchanging insults hotter than JEDCO bill.

I sighed, increased my volume. “Not my problem.”

Then GBAAM! The man slapped the conductor. Hot, resounding slap. The type that resets destiny and sends ancestors to WhatsApp group call.

Conductor screamed: “AH! YOU SLAP ME?!” and stretched his hand to retaliate.

That’s where my destiny entered wrong group chat.

Conductor swung. The stubborn man dodged.
And guess where the slap landed?
MY FACE.

MY BROTHER… I saw my village.
My ear started ringing GBIM GBIM GBIM like St. Theresa Cathedral bell on Sunday morning.
I didn’t think. I didn’t pray. I just returned the slap immediately. GBAM! Fast and sharp.

Bus went silent. Dead silence. Even the engine felt embarrassed.

I was still breathing heavy, hand raised, ready for round 2…
Then I noticed.

I SLAPPED THE WRONG PERSON.

It wasn’t the stubborn man.
It was a SOLDIER sitting quietly at the back.

MY PEOPLE… I knew I had died.
My spirit started packing load. “Mariano, we are leaving this body today.”

The soldier just turned and looked at me.
No expression. No anger. No words.
That blank face was worse than beating. That’s how I knew I was finished.

I immediately started stammering:
“Bro, it’s not what it looks like… I thought… it was… he started…”

He just sighed and said: “Come down.”

MY LEGS FAILED ME.
I wanted to jump out of the moving bus and run to Panyagor. But where would I start?
The conductor was looking away.
The stubborn man was looking away.
Even passengers who were laughing 2 seconds ago were now staring at the window like they didn’t know me.

Long story short… after plenty of begging, plenty of “bro I’m sorry, I’m a doctor, I have patients, please don’t finish me”…
He let me go.

But before I stepped out, he looked at me and said one sentence that still haunts me till today:

“Next time, look before you slap.”

MY PEOPLE…
Learn from me.
In Juba, never slap in anger.
Because you might slap peace, and peace will slap you back with rank and uniform. 😭😭

Till today, whenever I hear “come down”, I check if I’m near barracks.


✍️ Mariano,
Ghetto President 🥷

Don't be misled by what I post on Facebook.
I'm a pastor in real life.