Beating The Drum

Joseyphina (Ghana): chuckles You paint a beautiful picture, Nsatu. But for me, Afrobloggers is more like a giant talking drum. We each beat our own rhythm, our experiences unique, but the underlying message resonates across the continent. It’s a powerful force, this platform we’ve built…

Wounded Animal

The city screams, a dull ache behind my temples. Sunlight, a cruel intruder, pierces the blinds, revealing the wreckage of last night. Empty bottles, like fallen soldiers, litter the floor – casualties of a solo campaign. The air hangs heavy, thick with the scent of stale beer and regret. My reflection mocks from the bathroom……

A Wanderlusting Heart

This insatiable wanderlust that consumes you, dear reader, is not a mere desire for escape. It is a yearning to connect with the essence of humanity, to understand the stories etched in the landscapes and cultures that have shaped our world. It’s a pilgrimage to the birthplace of dreams, a chance to discover where your own story intersects with the grand narrative of humankind. So pack your metaphorical bags, embrace the unknown, and let the adventure begin. The world awaits, a vibrant canvas waiting for your brushstrokes of exploration…

An Elegy In Perpetual Dusk

The search became our salvation. It gave our existence meaning, a purpose beyond mere survival. We shared stories under the cold, indifferent stars, stories of a time when the sun kissed our skin and laughter echoed in the sunlight. In the shared memories, we found a fragile connection, a flicker of warmth in the all-encompassing darkness.

The ending, dear reader, is yet unwritten. We continue our journey, a testament to the enduring human spirit. Whether we find the fabled valley or not is immaterial. The search itself, the shared hope, the tenacity of the human spirit – these are the true lights that guide us through the long night…

Whispered Secrets

Life before the internet, a world etched in our minds,
Where secrets whispered on the wind, a hidden treasure we’d find.
Friendships forged on playgrounds, laughter echoing in the breeze,
Building forts in living rooms, adventures on our knees…

The Wilted Lily

The moment I woke up, I knew something wasn’t right. It wasn’t the absence of sunlight filtering through the blinds, usually the unwelcome prelude of a new day. It was a deeper silence, a hollowness that echoed in the cavern of my chest. I reached out, my arm instinctively seeking the familiar warmth beside me.……

The Last Echo

“The legacy I leave behind, I realized, is not a singular monument, but a ripple effect. It’s the echoes of stories whispered from one generation to the next, the lessons learned and the love passed on. It’s the strength to rise from the ashes of mistakes and the unwavering belief in the possibility of redemption.”