ALL THAT GLITTERS ARE NOT GOLD (Episode 1)

Good Day, all my followers and to you reading this very story of my, Good Day also to all the kids and parents in this very community, and to the able mod. and admin of this very big community, I celebrate you all and wish us the best of luck 🤞.

Sincerely am glad to present to you all this delicious that I cooked, i just got the inspiration by the special Grace of God, so please dear kids & parents, read carefully and see what this rich philanthropist did to this innocent young boy, you will be shocked, just read carefully and let's learn from his story.

ALL THAT GLITTERS, ARE NOT GOLD (EPISODE 1)

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(This pictures inside thumbnail was gotten from freepik and now edited with inshot application)

The entire ohanku community was filled with joy and excitement, believing they had received a savior in the form of the renowned philanthropist, Chief Ben Chisom, who returned wealthier and more generous than ever.

He came bearing gifts, including trucks laden with 20kg bags of rice, and the villagers welcomed him like royalty. Women laid their wrappers on the ground for him to walk on, men shouted his name, and children sang for him. Chief Chisom smiled and waved, giving the instruction to distribute “One bag of rice per family.”

Among the crowd was Mr. Odinaka, a poor but humble palm wine tapper, and his wife, a petty trader. After 15 years of waiting, they finally had two children. Their son, Odinaka Joseph, was now 16, intelligent, and full of promise. They accepted their rice with quiet appreciation but secretly yearned for more—a shot at a better life.

The next morning, filled with hope and bringing their son along, they approached Chief Chisom's grand mansion, the only one in the community, and were permitted inside.

Mr. Odinaka bowed deeply.
“Chief, please… allow my son to serve you in Uyo. He has just completed secondary school and can learn about small business. There’s no future for him here.”

Joseph dropped to his knees.
“Please, sir, I want to serve you. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

Chief Chisom looked at the boy and then at his parents, sipping his wine.
“Is he obedient?”

“Yes, sir,” his mother, Ngozi, quickly affirmed. “Very humble. He will not cause you any trouble.”

The chief smiled.
“Very well. I’ll return to Uyo in two days. Let him be prepared.”

Tears flowed freely as they praised and blessed him, calling him “father to the poor.”

Joseph could hardly sleep over the next three nights. He packed a small bag, dressed in his best Sunday shirt, borrowed shoes from his uncle, and carried dreams in his heart.

Uyo awaited him.

On the second day, he stood outside the mansion as Chief Benedict emerged in a sleek white suit and dark sunglasses.

“Are you ready, boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

They stepped into a Range Rover, and as the gates swung open, the people waved—grateful, hopeful, yet unaware.

Unaware of the truth.
Unaware of what awaited him in Uyo.
Unaware of the darkness that lurked beneath a friendly facade.

Upon arriving, they approached a large mansion with towering gates and armed guards. Inside, everything gleamed—marble floors, sparkling chandeliers, and leather seats that felt heavenly.

Joseph moved cautiously, hands on his small traveling bag, eyes wide with amazement.

The city was a different universe—tall buildings, vibrant lights, noise, and chaos.

Chief Chisom chuckled. “You’ll acclimate, boy.”
Nervously smiling, Joseph replied, “So, this is my new home?”

Chief nodded.
“That’s right.”

That night, he was shown a small guest room with a mattress on the floor. He felt grateful; it was more than he had ever known. He lay down, whispering thankful prayers until...

Around 2:00 a.m., the door slowly opened.

It was Chief Chisom, still dressed and smiling.

“Are you asleep, Joseph?”

Joseph sat up. “No, sir.”

The chief entered and locked the door behind him.

That was when everything shifted.

He sat next to Joseph, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re a good boy… right?”

Joseph froze, his heart racing.

“Yes, sir…”

The chief leaned closer, his tone darkening, his smile fading.
“Good boys… don’t refuse me.”

Joseph was initially bewildered, trying to cry out, but no sound emerged. He attempted to fight, but he was powerless. He sought to forget, but the memory never faded.

The next morning, everything felt normal. The staff greeted the chief as if nothing had occurred.

Joseph limped into the kitchen, his spirit crushed. No one asked questions, no one noticed, and no one cared.

He was now trapped in a gilded prison.

His phone had been confiscated. He wasn’t permitted to contact his parents. Each night, the same terror returned.

Chief Chisom, the man revered by his village…
The one known as a giver…
Had turned into his nightmare.

Joseph stopped smiling, dreaming, and being a boy.

However, one day, a young house help named Goodness noticed him. She observed the fear in his eyes, how he flinched at touch, and the tears he wiped away when he thought no one was looking.

One afternoon, while washing dishes, she whispered,
“What’s happening to you?”

Joseph met her gaze, his lips trembling. He wanted to share his plight but questioned whether he could trust her.

Ooh my God!!! If I may ask...

💬 Should Odinaka Joseph confide in Goodness? Will she assist him in escaping… or turn on him as well?

The story continues…

CONCLUSIONS

So, dear parents… when was the last time you truly saw your son?
Not just the smile… but the silence beneath it.
Not just the laughter… but the pain he might be concealing. Is someone hurting your boy when no one is watching?
This story will shake you to your core.
💔 Parents, this is just the beginning of Joseph’s ordeal.
What follows will haunt your soul. NEVER assume your son is safe simply because someone appears respectable.

Never equate generosity with virtue.
And NEVER forget—boys need protection too.

📢 Share this post on your blog if you believe no child should suffer in silence.

👀 COMMENT “Protect Joseph” if you feel your heart is breaking right now.