@Iwa_lewa1 It honestly doesn’t make sense for you to do this. They aren’t your pictures and you don’t have permission to use them for engagements. The owner doesn’t want you using her pictures so take them down.
@Iwa_lewa1 This is not your picture and you’re impersonating. You don’t have permission to use her picture. You have not taken the pictures down even after you’ve been told. Kindly take down the pictures.
Big Dreams. Bold Games.
🕹️👾☉🎮
We are having irresistible fun and we are here to take the world with us. Africa’s greatest studio in the making
https://t.co/bryDfy8cYK
I realized I never actually posted any of my poems on here. Only on insta. So here you go. Btw, this isn’t the first poem I’ve ever written, it’s sort of recent actually. But it is the first poem I’ve ever posted for people to read or see. Enjoy✨
Oya oo
I broke down the details on what to do step by step, so just follow along and get yours Thursday or Friday.
Don’t forget that Friday is the current deadline, so what you must do, do quickly.
Once again, please believe that your vote will count, because we will fight for it.
I read somewhere today that the brain suppresses a lot of memories, especially trauma-induced ones. And I realised that my brain is a mass of highly suppressed memories.
I have pushed so many memories down, to the deepest, darkest, gloomiest parts of my existence, that it has almost affected my ability to write. To feel. To reach.
Now, to write, I have to journey across a thousand seas, past the howling deserts, descend deep into myself, fighting the demons along the way, just to write what I truly want to say. Just to describe how I truly feel.
Today, I succeeded. I reached deep inside to write this piece. But the more I write, the more afraid I become, because I do not know what I will uncover — correction, I do know what I will uncover, but I am not ready to face it just yet. So my brain is at it again, drawing the curtain, sealing the doors, shielding me from myself, the way it always has.
But if I do not face my fears, what then does that make me? How then do I say that I have conquered? That I am no longer a slave to my past? To the version of me that never healed, only hid?
So I will pick up my pen, and I will write, until my fingers bleed, until my skin sheds, until I draw my last breath, until I overcome, and until I finally defeat what once defeated me.
Written by: @keenahkay (KKC)
One of my top two essentials after lipgloss is this mist, especially in the winter.
Sitting in heated rooms all day leaves my face feeling tight and uncomfortable. I keep the Clea Skn Rose Water Face Mist on my desk to fix that. 🥹🫶🏾
#cleabeauty
All my videos are edited by my baby sister @oyindachekwas
Hit her up for video edits, photo edits, and mobile photography. She’s amazing at what she does. 🫶🏾