@baxtiyar_avriki:

baxtiyar avriki

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Region: IQ

Friday 28 August 2026 10:34:15 GMT

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Comments

SEKOO NERWAY🦅 :

xosh danga bo snapi😂

2026-08-28 12:54:45

4

🅱️ADERXAN SH 🔨📐 :

جماعەت کەس نەچیتە وێ رێکێ خودێ نەڤەکریە هێشتا

2026-08-28 11:28:19

19

صقور جبال :

ئه ري عزيز پا چاوا😂🤣🤣🤣

2026-08-28 11:21:31

6

(⚜️💎FARO💎⚜️)_211✅ :

كاميرا تة چةندا صافية 🤣

2026-08-28 12:08:15

2

Chalang Duhoki :

2026-08-28 11:49:00

2

Reber Mohamad :

فيا با به ري 20 سالا اف ريكه جيكربا خلكي گه لك قورباني داب سببي فان جادا

2026-08-28 12:00:08

4

بشار ابوكاروان :

حتى كيڤيه

2026-08-28 12:16:42

1

Mohammed.snde :

به دريكي وفروده

2026-08-28 11:34:34

1

هوگر :

کا بنزین

2026-08-28 12:00:44

1

M.O.A :

يعني فةبوويه

2026-08-28 11:59:42

1

والله زمان :

غدا سوف يضعون الكاميرات المراقبة لا تتجاوز من السرعة أكثر من ستين أو ثمانين سرعة

2026-08-28 12:21:25

1

Omar kokhi :

اري ولله

2026-08-28 11:23:48

1

سه حكه ستوري ☝🏻🥰🥰 :

سه حكه ستوريت مه 🥰☝🏻🌿🌿

2026-08-28 12:41:30

4

Zerevan Sendi :

برا درسه شباعه دري حه تا دهوكي

2026-08-28 11:33:36

2

barafan mzere :

❤️❤️🥰

2026-08-28 13:18:26

0

♥️SALAM hkmat❤️ :

يعني فول كاميرة فرحان اخونا

2026-08-28 12:18:15

0

Shawkat kochar :

2026-08-28 12:46:19

0

chalengar98 :

كورو بانزين نينن ما دئ جه وا ئن بئلئ كه ن 😂😂

2026-08-28 14:27:22

0

niwar_hussein :

بارزان و بەس

2026-08-28 12:58:18

1

Ibn duhok :

خوبگرن. پاش بێژن پێلێنە دێ بیتە پوینت تو پوینت و پشتی هینگێ دێ پارادەی هەتا ل وی شارعی را بچی مام. افە ابو ارینە.

2026-08-28 12:10:20

1

Baran :

بوكاميرانه

2026-08-28 11:47:52

1

./Barzan—King.”/ :

فئ جادوعابوبکه ن هیندزانن دئبوکئکه ن

2026-08-28 11:39:29

1

صفوان :

حتا كيفه قيركريه خالو

2026-08-28 10:38:12

0

namoramz :

نەدیتکە تڤیا بەری ٣٠ سالا چێکربا نە نوکە

2026-08-28 12:33:50

1

To see more videos from user @baxtiyar_avriki, please go to the Tikwm homepage.

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حبيت ‏أميز العريس 😂🤵🏻‍♂️🔥❤️🫂#الف_الصلاة_والسلام_عليك_ياحبيب_الله_محمد #الشعب_الصيني_ماله_حل😂😂 #ypfッ #مميز #دخله_القاعه

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This morning, driving to work, Apple Music decided my blood pressure was too stable. 😂 Daddy Lumba’s “Ohia Asem” started playing. I smiled. Then came “Sika.” Ei! At that point, I wasn’t driving to work. I was driving back into my youth. The name that came to mind? Afia Wusuaa. My first real love after the seminary. If you have never healed a broken heart with Daddy Lumba, you won’t understand this post. 😂 Life was sweet. I was in university. Not rich, but not poor either. My elder siblings were my backbone. I drove my brother’s car, had fuel, and felt like part of Afia’s family. Back then, love spoke louder than money. Until money cleared its throat. An immigration officer had entered the picture. On one side stood a student armed with dreams. On the other stood a man with a government job and a more certain future. If you were a parent, who would you choose? I was in love. I fought. Afia told me, “If my mum agrees, then I am yours.” I believed. I asked my mother to come with me. My friend Stephen joined us. It became one of the most painful days of my young life. The disrespect and humiliation my mother faced hurt more than the rejection. As we drove home, nobody said much. But something inside me had changed forever. That day I made a promise. Never again would my mother negotiate my love life. If anything would fight that battle for me, let it be my achievements, character and success. And yes, let money have something to say. 😂 Not long after, the wedding invitation arrived. Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Sunyani. Then came the enemies. May God forgive friends. 🤣 Wedding pictures started arriving. Guard of honour. Couple’s dance. Cake. Bride smiling. Groom smiling. Everybody smiling. Except one student receiving updates every five minutes. 😂😂 I even drove past the reception venue. The place was full. So was the parking lot. My heart too was full. With pain. 😂 Life has no time for broken hearts. I completed university. Got a job. Failed. Worked again. Kept moving. Years later, I stopped at a pharmacy. Guess who was behind the counter. Afia. We spoke, laughed, and she admired my little boy and my car. As I was leaving, she told one of her colleagues: “If I had been patient enough, he would have been my husband.” I didn’t celebrate or mock her. I smiled. Life had answered a question I once cried over. Later, I heard her marriage was struggling. That wasn’t something to celebrate. Nobody should pray for another person’s marriage to fail. Life teaches lessons no parent can teach. Then Daddy Lumba started singing: “Me deɛ, mato ne din sɛ Ɔgyeawareɛ… Ɛma ɔdɔ sɔ… Sɛ ɛnhyɛ me ho a, nka ɔdɔfoɔ biara mma oo…” Ei, Chairman Lumba! Some lyrics are not songs. They are documentaries. 😂 Today, when people say money doesn’t matter, I smile. Money cannot buy love. But poverty has destroyed many relationships. Money doesn’t create character. But poverty can hide your value. Sometimes they don’t reject you because you are bad. They reject the future they cannot yet see. So I tell men: Don’t chase women. Chase purpose. Don’t spend your youth convincing someone that one day you will make it. Spend it actually making it. Learn a skill. Start a business. Get a qualification. Work. Invest. Save. Take every lawful opportunity to improve your life. Poverty is not romantic. Poverty is stubborn. Poverty can make someone wonder whether love alone can build a home. When success comes, don’t go back for revenge. Revenge is too expensive. Stay humble. Keep moving. Sometimes the greatest victory is hearing, “If I had waited…” and smiling: “Thank God neither of us knew what He had planned for my life.” Thank you, Daddy Lumba. This morning you did more than play music. You reopened old chapters, reminded me where I came from, and why every man must never surrender to poverty. Because sometimes poverty doesn’t just empty your wallet. It introduces itself into your love story.

This morning, driving to work, Apple Music decided my blood pressure was too stable. 😂 Daddy Lumba’s “Ohia Asem” started playing. I smiled. Then came “Sika.” Ei! At that point, I wasn’t driving to work. I was driving back into my youth. The name that came to mind? Afia Wusuaa. My first real love after the seminary. If you have never healed a broken heart with Daddy Lumba, you won’t understand this post. 😂 Life was sweet. I was in university. Not rich, but not poor either. My elder siblings were my backbone. I drove my brother’s car, had fuel, and felt like part of Afia’s family. Back then, love spoke louder than money. Until money cleared its throat. An immigration officer had entered the picture. On one side stood a student armed with dreams. On the other stood a man with a government job and a more certain future. If you were a parent, who would you choose? I was in love. I fought. Afia told me, “If my mum agrees, then I am yours.” I believed. I asked my mother to come with me. My friend Stephen joined us. It became one of the most painful days of my young life. The disrespect and humiliation my mother faced hurt more than the rejection. As we drove home, nobody said much. But something inside me had changed forever. That day I made a promise. Never again would my mother negotiate my love life. If anything would fight that battle for me, let it be my achievements, character and success. And yes, let money have something to say. 😂 Not long after, the wedding invitation arrived. Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Sunyani. Then came the enemies. May God forgive friends. 🤣 Wedding pictures started arriving. Guard of honour. Couple’s dance. Cake. Bride smiling. Groom smiling. Everybody smiling. Except one student receiving updates every five minutes. 😂😂 I even drove past the reception venue. The place was full. So was the parking lot. My heart too was full. With pain. 😂 Life has no time for broken hearts. I completed university. Got a job. Failed. Worked again. Kept moving. Years later, I stopped at a pharmacy. Guess who was behind the counter. Afia. We spoke, laughed, and she admired my little boy and my car. As I was leaving, she told one of her colleagues: “If I had been patient enough, he would have been my husband.” I didn’t celebrate or mock her. I smiled. Life had answered a question I once cried over. Later, I heard her marriage was struggling. That wasn’t something to celebrate. Nobody should pray for another person’s marriage to fail. Life teaches lessons no parent can teach. Then Daddy Lumba started singing: “Me deɛ, mato ne din sɛ Ɔgyeawareɛ… Ɛma ɔdɔ sɔ… Sɛ ɛnhyɛ me ho a, nka ɔdɔfoɔ biara mma oo…” Ei, Chairman Lumba! Some lyrics are not songs. They are documentaries. 😂 Today, when people say money doesn’t matter, I smile. Money cannot buy love. But poverty has destroyed many relationships. Money doesn’t create character. But poverty can hide your value. Sometimes they don’t reject you because you are bad. They reject the future they cannot yet see. So I tell men: Don’t chase women. Chase purpose. Don’t spend your youth convincing someone that one day you will make it. Spend it actually making it. Learn a skill. Start a business. Get a qualification. Work. Invest. Save. Take every lawful opportunity to improve your life. Poverty is not romantic. Poverty is stubborn. Poverty can make someone wonder whether love alone can build a home. When success comes, don’t go back for revenge. Revenge is too expensive. Stay humble. Keep moving. Sometimes the greatest victory is hearing, “If I had waited…” and smiling: “Thank God neither of us knew what He had planned for my life.” Thank you, Daddy Lumba. This morning you did more than play music. You reopened old chapters, reminded me where I came from, and why every man must never surrender to poverty. Because sometimes poverty doesn’t just empty your wallet. It introduces itself into your love story.

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