Spenda dey for you 😁 Thank you @MySpenda

Halloween vibes with @zBit_Official Zoroo #zBitHalloween

Every clip deserves a powerful finish Meet the RALLY FINISH a 5 second burst of energy built to make every ending count #ClipRallyOutro

My name is Henry, and I'm an Uber driver. In six years of driving, I've met all kinds of people, but none terrified me like Daniel and his wife. For six years, I drove Daniel and his family whenever they needed me. They treated me like family. His wife would always say, “Henry, you're not just our driver. You're part of our family.” But there was something strange about them. They never visited Daniel's village. Not once in six years. One December morning, I overheard his wife arguing with him. “Daniel, we've been married for six years! I speak to your parents on the phone every week. Why have I never met them?” Finally, he agreed to take her. At 4 a.m., I picked them up, and we drove toward his village. Around 3 p.m., Daniel asked me to stop near a market. “I can't visit my parents after all these years without palm wine and bushmeat,” he said. He handed his wife some provisions and told me to drive her to the family compound. He would join us shortly. That was the last time I ever saw Daniel alive. When we arrived, seven people were holding a family meeting. His wife greeted them cheerfully. “Good afternoon. I'm here to see my husband’s parents. My husband is Daniel Obi.” Nobody answered. Finally, an elderly man asked, “Which Daniel Obi?” When she explained, a woman shook her head. “That man died nine years ago.” His wife laughed nervously. “That's impossible. I slept beside him last night!” Hours passed. Daniel never arrived. At 8 p.m., the village elder returned. When she explained everything, his face went pale. “My daughter,” he whispered, “my son died nine years ago. I never attended any wedding, and I have never spoken to you on the phone.” She showed him photographs and videos of their marriage, their children, and their family celebrations. The old man said nothing. He simply led us behind the house. There, beneath a tree, stood a grave. On the tombstone was Daniel's photograph. The name and dates confirmed it. He had been dead for nine years. His wife screamed and collapsed. That night, after she finally fell asleep, she woke up screaming. She told us Daniel had appeared in her dream. “You wanted to meet my parents,” he had said angrily. “Now you've disturbed everything. We were happy. Why did you bring me back here?” The village priest warned that Daniel's spirit was restless. His wife and children stayed in the village for three months before returning to the city. I thought the nightmare was over. Then, three weeks later, I received a ride request. The passenger's name was Daniel Obi. My hands began to shake. I cancelled the trip immediately. Seconds later, my phone rang. It was Daniel's number. I answered without speaking. A familiar voice whispered: “Henry, my friend. Why did you leave me at the market?” Then I heard the sound of a shovel digging into the earth. And a final whisper: “Come and help me finish my burial.” The call ended. #zBitHalloween @zBit_Official