Nollywood actor Daniel Etim-Effiong and his wife, Toyosi, who is an author and TV presenter, are expecting their second baby.

This evening, Toyosi announced the wonderful news on her Instagram page. She shared a photo of herself and her husband holding her baby belly. She wrote:

GOD is good and kind to us ☺️ Baby 2 is enroute 🙏🏾 but what is good news without a long testimony? I’m still writing but it’s looking like a 4-5 part series just like how #NowYouKnowMeBetter started 😄 It’s still available on Amazon! Please buy a copy today 😊 But I digress. This new series is titled “My Ovaries” 😄 Enjoy!! —- Part I In 2012 I had a ruptured ovarian cyst and underwent my first emergency surgery ever. I was scared. I felt palpably, the spirit of fear around me, taunting, prodding and tormenting me and as I was wheeled through the corridors of the old but sturdy hospital in V/I, I kept asking the nurse if I was going to die. I’ll never forget the look of uncertainty on her face; she couldn’t look me in the eye and she wouldn’t give me a straight answer. I concluded that being chatty would reduce my chances of dying so when the surgery started, I talked and talked and talked until the surgeon asked the anesthesian to put me to sleep. I had clearly overdone it but even as I was told to count backwards from 10, I did all I could to stay awake. Before the surgery, I had prayed against dreaming about hell, “LORD please I don’t want to dream about/visit/anything hell… PLEASE”. Stories of people who had been taken to hell and sent back to share their experiences had floated through my mind and I was certain, extremely certain that I didn’t want to be one of those people. No hell for me please. Anything but hell, thank you. Ten, nine, eight, sen, si, f… deep sleep. My will to stay awake had succumbed to science. TBC

She continued in another post:

My Ovaries II I could smell sulfur and an ominous tune was playing in the background; it sounded like a pipe organ, in fact I was sure it was a pipe organ because I had grown up listening to one every Sunday at church. I was in the middle of a river, standing on a small rock with other rocks ahead of me leading to the riverbank on the other side. I skipped from rock to rock towards the other side as that seemed to be the only natural thing to do and in the strange and unusual manner of dreams, the other side became the middle of a large, parched field. The field was dry and brown and dusty with scattered clumps of dead grass that reminded me of an ill-maintained football field. Up ahead, I saw rainbow-colored spiral stairs with really bright, white light at the top and again it seemed like the natural direction to head in. I walked towards it and up the stairs- the smell of sulfur and the sound of the organ both long gone by now. As I inched closer to the light at the top of the stairs, I suddenly felt resistance in front of me. I couldn’t go any further and then I felt a gentle shove that sent me spiraling back down the stairs. I woke up on the operating table in the theatre at the same time that I hit the bottom of the rainbow-colored, spiral stairs in the dream and immediately broke into spontaneous praise. “JESUS is LORD!”, “GOD is real!” are two things I remember saying repeatedly before the gibberish started. Don’t do drugs people, don’t do drugs because the next thing that happened was me pointing and laughing at the hospital staff saying they each had two heads. It must have been the morphine or some other drug but yes, everyone around me had 2 heads and I was pointing and laughing hysterically as they wheeled me out to the recovery room. Suffice to say the surgery was a success, or so I thought… TBC