Society My Home By Catherine Banda
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,…
The Sinner’s Prayer
Heavenly Father,
hear my weeping prayer.
I am a rotten apple,
a bad element,
of the holy and sacred equation.
Unloved,
unworthy,
undeserved, I am,
because of me planting demonic seeds,
and watering them,
in my lifeless and dead spiritual garden.
I saw unholy statutes,
that enticed me,
and I took a sip of sins,
and bad deeds.
In my time of deep darkness,
I…
Meet Blessing Daniel Mohie, an Aspiring Creator From Nigeria
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…
Unbroken, but not Unscarred
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…
A Soul Torn, A Spirit Unbroken by Shamyne Mwila
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.
Her loved ones, they couldn’t understand,
The turmoil raged like a stormy land.
They rejected her with words that cut deep,
Leaving her to face the demons, asleep.
Her thoughts, a jumbled…
My Dream’s Weight
Meet Maria, a 19-year-old fighting for her future. Every morning for years, she walked two hours to school because her family couldn’t afford transport. Many would have quit – but Maria kept walking. She studied by candlelight when there was no electricity. She passed her exams when others said…
My Name Is Magdalyne, And This Is My Story
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…