Peoples' Voices for Social Justice and Equality
By Philomène Luyindula Lasoen It was a long time before we saw each other again. I used to travel to my mom in Congo when taking a holiday. I wrote short notes to my mom and always worried that I didn’t know how to show her love. She is far more complex than my dad
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By Alice Mbeya As a fledgling, I had constantly been guided into knowing that there was a heaven and hell with one true God and that your place on earth and the ways you treated people would determine exactly where your eternity would be spent. As the years progressed and varied instances of inevitable and
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The rain beats purposefully down upon the tin roof. The sound is orchestral and makes it all the more difficult for me to hold in last night’s drink now terrorizing my four year old bladder. Grandpa snores gently at the far end of the gigantic bed. He is a Health Inspector and rides a motorcycle.
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