___☆tranquility☆___

If you live in people acceptance ,you will die from their objection 🥀✨🥀

A whole Kapaka😌🙈😇

[___☆tranquility☆___ @_pacify432_]

Dum Spiro, Spero
(Latin)

While I breathe, I hope.

[Kasi The Ashy @Kasikili_]

Relax, no one is gifting you a kid, o’family yeni oyina noho nokatongo.

[ncomeka @mjwarancomeka]

Like a dry sponge, ready to absorb all the knowledge I can attain 🥹

[___☆tranquility☆___ @_pacify432_]

SHAME, is what this generation lacks.

[LLONER 🦅🪐 @eyojoel77]

People don't really understand that if a person is loyal to you, it's because of their character and morals, not because you are special.

[readybible.com @readybible1611]

For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Romans 6:23

[‏ً @omgsidewalks]

You don't have to show everybody your full personality like it's very okay to be absolutely nobody to some people.

[La Sanguijuela 💉🔬 @CergieSelma]

Congratulations to the NDF graduates.

Please stay away from the other bank and cash loans 🤗.

You can’t have it all at once, and don’t try to please your home boys with buying things on credit ✌🏾

[MXXXXXXXMMMM @Daaalllas]

The joke in this country is how an unemployed graduate is giving paid coaching classes to other unemployed graduates.

[Trophy Boyfriend @Khaze10]

God always chooses the right person for you. Even if they come after too many wrong choices. You will end up with the people who look like you, especially from the inside.

And always know that kind people meet each other.

[___☆tranquility☆___ @_pacify432_]

@Shesshy2 Afrikaans

[Kayilula @MekondjoKondja]

Grace to Woven

That tweet is probably projected pain - crying out loud to a deeper pain.

We go to about 5/6 years ago (2019/2020), she tweeted about how her mother takes care of so many kids which aren't hers but just unfortunate kids whose parents can't afford to take care of them. We underestimate what that does to the person's biological children and how much it takes away from them.

Watch her content at the village and there's always many kids there,which she spoke kindly with and to a great extent, with love. I do not expect such a person to author anti-conception tweets, so I would (nonchalantly) analyse the possible psychology that I can think of surrounding the situation.

Have your mother raise hundreds of kids made by irresponsible people who can't take care of them by themselves. You'd have that dormant anger and frustration about conception, which will leak out here and there, sometimes without noticing. It shifts your perspective about having children and becomes almost a trauma. The idea of having a child will trigger you because all you'll remember is your good-hearted mother who is burdened by kids she didn't make.

Your mother can't live a life you think she deserves, because every possible penny goes into food for the team - which is number 2 need on Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. More pain is that the money you send her, for herself, is also spent in a way you feel deep down is unfair. Those children also become your responsibility.

It doesn't matter whether she's at the village and you're in town. She's living with that burden on a daily basis and she hotspots it to you everyday when you speak to her. You are kind of also dragged in this burden because you can't detach from your mother. Whenever you speak to her, you hear those responsibilities in the background. Whenever you want to see her, you have to make peace with seeing them too. It's like dating somebody with many many kids.

It gets tricky when you wanna have a child, and you think about your mother wanting to be with her grandchild. You can't take care of your kid the way you'd wish to, as that means you have to either discriminate and have your child enjoy things the other kids don't have, or buy for all the 10 kids in your mother's care, or let your kid not have fancy things and eat fancy food and just be like the rest of the crew. All those choices are undesirable.

That can be damaging to somebody. At times, there's nowhere to release that background anger since these are just innocent kids. The normalization of burdening people with responsibilities that aren't theirs especially when it comes to taking care of children they didn't make is also very common, which leads to our parents suffering and sacrificing their lives to take care of children made by whoever.

Social media has become the only place since I can't say it in my mother's face. Sometimes such can come out through shade or other ways. That doesn't mean the person hates kids. They can actually love kids but hate the idea of making kids you can't afford to take care of.

That tweet to me, just like the 2019/2020 tweet, is leaking pain. It's a valid projection, but we're more damaged today as a society. Wherever you express yourself nowadays, you're rubbing on somebody's fresh wound.

[Abhishek @MSDianAbhiii]

Insulting students because their parents are not able to pay fees on time is the worst thing in education system

[___☆tranquility☆___ @_pacify432_]

React"👍"

[Hafeezah ❤️ @Atilolahafeezah]

I need a nonchalant response to “I love you”

[Sir Max @Sir__Max1]

Being around people who put witchcraft at the center of everything is dangerous. People who constantly fear witchcraft can be difficult to live with. Witchcraft may exist, but it should not be treated as the main cause of all your failures or stop you from being civil.

[Namibian Sun @namibiansun]

Long-distance councillorship: Kansela wetu okuli kOvenduka

There was a time when, if a pothole swallowed half your Mazda Demio, you could march straight to your councillor’s house, knock on their door, and demand answers. They lived within arm’s reach – sometimes within crawling distance.

You would be offered a cup of tea while the councillor nodded gravely and wrote ‘omalambo mopate’ [pothole] into a notebook they would never open again.

But now, Namibia has entered a bold new era of governance: long-distance councillorship.

Last week, President Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah appointed seven deputy ministers – all of them constituency councillors. A masterstroke, really. Why limit yourself to disappointing one electorate when you can spread the experience nationwide?

We are now governed by a system so sophisticated it operates on the principles of quantum physics: the councillor is both present and absent – accountable and unavailable – all at once.

Back in the constituencies, however, you are on your own.

The councillor’s office – once a hive of activity – now resembles Kolmanskop, the famous abandoned diamond mining ghost town near Lüderitz.

The front desk clerk pops in occasionally to access free internet. The cleaner has not been in since the last salary run, because the boss now lives some 700 kilometres away. Not metaphorically. Physically.

Picture this: Daures constituency councillor Theresia Brandt, now deep in Okahao, resolving labour disputes in her new capacity as deputy labour minister – this, while cattle herders back in Daures have not been paid since October.

Or Otjombinde councillor Wenzel Kavaka proudly inaugurating a network tower in Kongola, smiling for cameras and cutting ribbons – while his own constituents in Donkerbos are climbing trees just to catch a single bar of signal.

In Etayi, one wonders: will the donkeys finally receive reflector jackets now that councillor Hans Haikali is deputy minister of transport? Or will he first ensure that goats in Berseba are roadworthy while those back home continue their naked, lawless existence?

At this rate, the only time voters will see their councillors is on prime-time news – heroically cutting ribbons in places they do not represent, applauded by people who did not vote for them.

If you have a petition, shove it up your sweaty rural arse. Your councillor has moved to the city of bright lights. If your communal tap is dry, talk to your bald headman about it. If your communal grazing land is being fenced off by the rich and powerful, tell your wife during supper. Your councillor is busy elsewhere – delivering a deeply uninspiring World Malaria Day speech in Buitepos as health deputy minister.

Back home, the constituency office – once the nerve centre of drought relief – now stands locked. A padlock guards the entrance like Nepando Amupanda – who loyally stood behind Sam Nujoma without blinking. Spider webs hang where accountability once did.

But do not despair.

In four years’ time, the councillor will return. Not as the person you once knew, but as a well-fed political comet, descending in a black Mercedes-Benz, dust rising behind it like a campaign promise.

They will shake hands, smile broadly, and remind you how much they have “worked for the people" – just not these people.

They will speak of development. Of progress. Of plans. With a Windhoek accent.

And then, just as quickly, they will vanish again – back to the nation’s capital – leaving behind nothing but tyre marks, sunburnt campaign posters, and a pothole still hungry for its next Mazda Demio.

[Minister of Finance🇳🇦💰 @money_flavoured]

Shaike wa tameke uupote woku sharing omahokololo guupote komalungula, ito stopa.

Divorce rumours - ongwee
Relationship rumours - ongwee
Witchcraft rumours - Ongwee
Downfall rumours - Ongwee
Ntumba okuna okamaliwa - Ongwee

Takamitha otshiparte tshohe shi hatshi ti fuuu

Gandwa!

[🍂It's Me🍂 @P_e_n_n_a_h_h_K]

As women we gotta grow, outgrow gossips, competing over men, comparing ourselves to other women, drama, needing validation from people & most importantly outgrow being lazy with your own life & playing with your own potential coz the woman you are become requires discipline.❤️