
Cheers to 2025
Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of
A tribute to an icon – By Adeyemi Abidemi Adebola
A Tribute to Desmond Tutu
The Priest of Liberty
The last Icon of the struggle against Apartheid is gone! He died today 26th December 2021(Boxing day). Desmond Tutu stood on the pages of the Bible to wage war against apartheid, the purity of his morality, spirituality and social crusade reverberates across the world. His death and legend is a great opportunity for South Africans and Africans at large to revisit and reinvent the course of social justice.
The world needs so many of Desmond Tutu; in this generation that the pulpit has been turned to a platform to grandstand and acquire material progress, Desmond Tutu is not only a spiritual but moral relief! His studious stand against racial justice and LGBT rights defined him as a non-segregationist and universal human right activist.
I was attracted to him not just because of his activism but his immense intellectual sagacity, his book ‘Hope and Suffering’ is one of the most treasured collection in my library, he gave life, meaning and hope to the struggle against apartheid.
He was ordained a priest in 1960 and thereafter he became the bishop of Lesotho from 1976-78. In 1984 he received the Nobel Peace Prize for his nonviolent struggle against apartheid, according to the Nobel Committee Tutu was regarded as a “unifying leader figure in the campaign to resolve the problem of apartheid in South Africa” He became the Bishop of Johannesburg in 1985 and subsequently appointed the first black Archbishop of Cape town. From the pulpit he spoke out against oppression of the black people and injustice all around the world. In 1994 Desmond Tutu was appointed the Chairman of Truth and Reconciliation Commission(TRC) which was created by President Nelson Mandela. He brought his moral authority to bear on the commission.
One of the most inspiring aspect of his leadership is the consistency of rejecting abuse of power during apartheid and post-apartheid South Africa. He was indeed a man of high principles! In his life time over 100 universities around the world bestowed honorary degrees on him.
He won the Gandhi Peace prize award in 2007 and was awarded the presidential medal of freedom in 2009 by the government of America.
Desmond Tutu is one of the bravest and most courageous African that ever lived.
Rest in Peace Desmond Tutu!
Amandla!

Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of

There is a category of question that polite intellectual company tends to avoid: the kind that, if you pull the thread long enough, begins to unravel not just a specific mystery but the entire fabric of what we think we know about human history. The Pyramids of Giza are that thread. They have been standing in the Egyptian desert for roughly 4,500 years.

Let me take you somewhere. Not to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean — at least, not yet. First, to Lagos. Nigeria. Sometime in the late 1980s. A teenager who should probably have been revising for exams is instead sitting cross-legged on the floor of a library, holding a book that is older than most of the furniture around it, reading about a city beneath the sea.

This is my story of discovering a film that challenged everything I thought I knew about the gift of time, every pulsating detail documented to inspire you to leap beyond your limitations and appreciate the beauty of growing old.
This story explores the paradox of immortality and why a movie from 2015 still resonates so deeply with audiences today.
I hope you find it worth your time.

This is my story, every pulsating detail documented to inspire you to question what you know and leap beyond your limitations.
This story is about the audacity of belief, the power of a well-told lie, and the journey to unlearn the things that poisoned my teenage mind.
I hope you find it worth your time.

There is a category of question that polite intellectual company tends to avoid: the kind that, if you pull the thread long enough, begins to unravel not just a specific mystery but the entire fabric of what we think we know about human history. The Pyramids of Giza are that thread. They have been standing in the Egyptian desert for roughly 4,500 years.

There is a peculiar kind of madness that does not arrive with hallucinations or trembling hands. It arrives quietly. At two in the morning. In a small desert town in New Mexico. It sounds like an idling diesel engine somewhere in the distance — except there is no engine. It sounds like a bass note being held by an invisible orchestra — except there is no orchestra.

Let me confess something. Long before LinkedIn articles, podcasts, and leadership keynotes became my world, I was a teenager sneaking to the library

In an era that increasingly demands hyper-specialization, Akin Akingbogun stands out as a refreshing anomaly. He is a man who refuses to be confined to a single box.

There is a particular kind of silence that falls on a man when the phone stops ringing, the proposals go unanswered, and the diary that once groaned under the weight of appointments sits quietly — almost mockingly — open. If you have ever been there, you know it.

Let me tell you something uncomfortable: the most generous person you know — the one who volunteers every weekend, donates quietly, never asks for anything in return — is probably getting something out of it. Not money. Maybe not even recognition. But something.

Adaeze had been awake since 4 a.m.
Not because she was anxious — though she was — but because this trip felt different. After eighteen months of follow-ups, phone calls, and PowerPoint presentations polished to a mirror shine, the deal was finally ready to close. An investor meeting in Abuja. A partnership that would change the trajectory of her small but gutsy consulting firm. She had triple-checked her flight, her documents, her outfit. She had prayed. She was ready.

When he told his father, Dare’s first response was a sigh. Then: “I told you to practice more. I told you months ago. You don’t listen. You never listen.”
There was no “I’m sorry, son.” No pause to let the boy simply feel the loss of the thing he wanted. Just a swift, seamless pivot to what Temi had done wrong — and, by extension, how Temi’s failure was evidence of Temi’s failure to take his father’s wisdom seriously.

I want to tell you something that took me embarrassingly long to learn. Not because the idea is complicated — it is not. But because it cuts against something deeply wired in us, something we are rarely honest enough to admit.
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