My boss had a habit of delaying our salaries, but we later discovered why.
Whenever the company made good money, he would transfer the income into his wife’s account before payday.
One month, we were all waiting for our salaries.
Employee: “Sir, when are we getting paid?”
Boss: “Very soon. Just be patient.”
Employee: “You said that last week.”
Boss: “I said be patient.”
Nobody wanted to argue because we needed the job.
But this time, something unexpected happened.
Our boss traveled for a few days and left the HR manager in charge of the office.
That week, the company received a huge payment.
For once, there was enough money sitting in the company account to pay everyone comfortably.
The HR manager checked the records, calculated everyone's salary, and paid us in full.
People were shocked.
Employee: “Wait… my salary is complete?”
HR: “Yes. That's what you're supposed to receive.”
Everyone was celebrating.
Until the boss returned.
She was a grandmother from Montana who asked the U.S. government one question and it took them fifteen years and $3.4 billion to answer it.
Elouise Cobell grew up on the Blackfeet Reservation in Montana without running water or electricity. She was the middle child of nine. Three of her siblings did not survive childhood. Her great-great-grandfather was Mountain Chief, the last war chief of the Blackfeet Nation, who had refused to compromise with the United States government in the nineteenth century.
That stubbornness ran in the blood.
Cobell went to college, studied business and accounting, and came back to the reservation. She became treasurer of the Blackfeet Nation — and almost immediately, the numbers stopped making sense.
She could see oil wells pumping on Blackfeet land. She could see cattle grazing on allotted parcels that should have been generating real income. But the checks that arrived from the federal government were impossibly small. One tribal member showed her a report proving an oil company had received six thousand dollars from his land. His check was for eighty-nine dollars.
When Cobell asked federal officials to explain the discrepancy, they told her she didn't know how to read a financial statement.
She had a degree in business. She had studied accounting. She had founded the first nationally chartered bank on an Indian reservation — the Blackfeet National Bank, created in 1987 because no other bank would open a branch there. In 1997, the MacArthur Foundation awarded her a "genius grant" for her financial work on behalf of Native communities.
She knew exactly how to read a financial statement. The problem was that the government didn't have one to show her.
What Cobell uncovered was not simple mismanagement. It was the near-total absence of accounting for a trust system that had been running since the Dawes Act of 1887. For over a century, the United States government had been collecting royalties and lease payments on behalf of individual Native American landowners — money from oil, gas, timber, mining, and grazing — and depositing it into Individual Indian Money accounts that it was legally required to manage.
But the records were a catastrophe. Accounts were mixed together. Documents were missing, destroyed, or stored in conditions so poor they had been damaged by water, mold, and rodents. Nobody could say where the money had gone. Attorneys would later argue that upwards of one hundred seventy billion dollars was unaccounted for.
Cobell lobbied for reform throughout the 1980s and 1990s. Nothing changed. So on June 10, 1996, she did what almost no one thought was possible.
She filed a class-action lawsuit against the United States government.
Cobell v. Babbitt — named for then-Secretary of the Interior Bruce Babbitt — represented approximately half a million individual Native Americans across more than one hundred fifty tribes. It was filed in federal court in Washington, D.C. Cobell did not sue for personal enrichment. She sued because the government had broken a legal and moral promise to the people whose land it was supposed to protect.
The fight lasted thirteen years.
The government tried to dismiss the case. It argued the records were too old, too damaged, too complex to reconstruct. It deployed teams of lawyers and delayed proceedings at every opportunity. But federal judges kept ruling in Cobell's favor. Cabinet officials were held in contempt of court. One judge was so openly furious with the government's conduct that he was eventually reassigned from the case.
Presidents came and went. Interior Secretaries changed. The case was renamed as defendants rotated — Cobell v. Norton, Cobell v. Kempthorne, Cobell v. Salazar. Through all of it, Cobell remained.
This man and his five children are the pride of the family
The family
Makes $4.6M in a day, a net worth of $199.7B
Controls the largest luxury goods company in the world
And the last born was just 25 yrs when he was made the CEO of TAG Heuer
Canada Prime Minister candidate Piere Poilievre explains inflation in simple English.
This is the most explanatory video you will watch that breaks down the economics and the evil of inflation in basic everyday language.
Everyone must watch this video:
Hey guys, so due to popular demand, I present to you (drumroll… 🥁🥁) the bible verse bits (DARK EDITION). For everyone who mentioned it, please know that I saw it and took note even though I did not respond 🫶✨
These are the first 40. I’ll update over time 🙏
Nigeria desperately needs an elite.
The current excuse for an elite are just poverty-stricken people who happen to have a lot of money. There's no difference between this stunt by Yahaya Bello and an office assistant who steals the diesel money to buy Frisocrem for his hungry infant at home.
The level of ambition is the same - a simple desire to be able to afford food, accommodation, transport, education, and healthcare. There isn't even enough sophistication to use layers of separation to give the thing plausible deniability. The hungry thug used his government name to propose an illegal transaction, plus the government names of his children.
Now, an actual (corrupt) elite in a more advanced society would never pay expensive school fees in a direct transfer to the school's account so that it can be traced to him. It would be one shell corporation registered in the Bahamas, owned by a holding company registered in the British Virgin Islands under the management of a charity registered in the Cook Islands overseen by a law firm in Mauritius that would have influenced a recognised international institution to issue scholarships to the Bello sprogs in an amount that coincidentally matches the AIS fees.
The whole thing would have been set up in a way that would make it nearly impossible to unravel or stop. Instead, this conflict mineral warlord went and did a direct transfer with his name on it, because no matter how much money he has, he is really just a poor man who is tormented by memories of his struggles in poverty.
An illegal mining chieftain like Yahaya Bello has no greater ambition in life than to eat chicken, buy tacky, ostentatious houses, drive tacky, ostentatious cars, send his kids to tacky, ostentatious schools, go on tacky, ostentatious holidays, have intercourse with every woman in the northern hemisphere, and ultimately have a tacky, ostentatious funeral when he dies of coronary heart disease at 64, after which his multiple legitimate and illegitimate children, wives and concubines will begin a multi-decade inheritance struggle over his estate, which - needless to say - will not be covered by his Will, if he has one.
Nigeria is PLEADING for actual elites.
These guys are Igwe Tupac level of parodies.