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…
Tag: inspiration
Behind the Curtain
This is my story, a peek behind the curtain of my blogging journey. It’s not a story of grand achievements or overnight success. It’s a story of quiet passion, of facing fears, and of finding my voice in the vast digital orchestra. It’s a story that continues to unfold, one keystroke at a time, with the hope that it will resonate with someone out there, somewhere, in the vast unseen audience…
A story from DMT on Medium
Read “From Script to Syntax: My Alpha Techie Experience“ by DMT on Medium: The initial lessons were brutal. Lines of code resembled cryptic messages, a jumbled mess of commands and variables that seemed more suited to an ancient spellbook than a modern computer program. Frustration gnawed at me. My fingers, accustomed to the dance of storytelling, felt…… Continue reading A story from DMT on Medium
The Confessional
In my walks, in the quiet whisper of nature, I find the solace to forgive the past. It’s there, too, that the strength rises, a phoenix from the ashes of despair. It’s in those moments of solitude that I remember who I thought I could be, who I wanted to be. And for a fleeting moment, the weight of years falls away. I feel young again, the embers of those lost dreams flicker once more, a faint warmth against the chill of reality…
Lullaby of Threads
The poem “Lullaby of Threads” celebrates African fashion’s rich history, from ancient empires to modern designers. It weaves a story of resilience, cultural pride, and the beauty of self-expression through clothing. It’s a lullaby that puts a child to sleep while highlighting the enduring spirit of African fashion…
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…… Continue reading Wounded Animal
Disrobe This Love
With every touch love’s imprints cling to our skin, its intricate patterns mapping excitement. We unfasten each delicate hook, revealing the map of longing etched within. Finally, we stand bare: naked truth, our souls unmasked, our flaws unhidden. No more pretense, no more veils – just the raw, imperfect beauty of us…