I am a Motswana,
A young girl striving for success.
Trusting the gifts that we have been granted
By our ancestors and God.
Believing in the power of my voice and the beauty of my skin.
Embracing the uniqueness of my hair, which is as black as mud.
The way I walk reflects the flow…
Society, my home,
Society, my refuge,
From time unknown,
You have been my haven.
I cry, I weep,
When all I see is that you are now
A technologically torn area.
What was our unity force
When I wandered into the depth and breadth of your beauty
Has become our contender.
We have become adversaries
And strangers in one abode.
Society,…
Heavenly Father, hear my weeping prayer to you
I am a rotten apple
A bad element of the holy and sacred equation
Unloved, unworthy, and underserved because of me planting the demonic seeds and watering them in my lifeless and dead spiritual garden
I saw unholy statutes that enticed me
Took a sip of…
My name is Blessing Daniel Mohie, and I’m from Nigeria. I’m a Virtual Assistant and Web3 marketer, and I currently manage an NGO’s social media page, focusing on health, education, and youth impact. I love creating content that educates, inspires, and connects people.
My Journey
I’ve always been interested in making…
Is pain her lifelong purpose?
Momma calls me to her room.
She tells me she’s afraid she won’t be here
To protect me, to shield me from
The blows, the screams, the endless pain.
She says I must try to endure,
Like she did in her marriage, in vain,
Because that’s all she knows.
Her bruises are…
“Shamyne’s Turbulent Mind”
Shamyne Doreen Mwila, a soul so bright,
Torn apart by darkness and endless fight.
Bipolar disorder’s waves crash on her shore,
As schizophrenia’s whispers echo evermore.
“Rejected and Alone”
Her loved ones, they couldn’t understand,
The turmoil raged like a stormy land.
They rejected her with words that cut deep,
Leaving Shamyne to face her…
Through the storm
I walked
Two hours every day,
The sky wept, the sun blazed,
Through rain that soaked my soul,
And the heat that dried my dreams,
I walked.
The weight of my dream was heavier than the backpack I carried,
My feet blistered, my heart bruised,
Yet each step whispered:
“Keep going, don’t quit”
Four years in the…
Mama feared the river for what it took; I loved it for what it carried away.
The river knows my name. It has whispered it since I was a child, its voice curling through the reeds, dancing over the rocks, and sinking into the depths where secrets sleep. The current…
