Towards the end of last year, a quiet protest started in the home, “mum, why do we have to eat rice and stew on Sundays?” It was answered with rolled eyeballs the first few times. Finally, I returned the challenge, “yes, you are right, why do we...
I won’t shape myself Neither will the world shape me Master, make me Porter, mold I will remain in your hands, Master Porter I will remain in your hands, Master Porter I have been humming this song and searching for the original music but yet to...
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