THE HOUSE THAT FORGOT HOW TO LAUGH

 There was no love missing in our house, because there was no love left to miss.That was our secret. We were not sad. Sad would have been easier.In House 24, 2nd Street, Germiston - the Molefes were perfect.6:00 AM - Alarm. 6:15 AM - Mom in the kitchen. The sound of the spoon against the pot. Same pot. Same porridge. Every day for 7 years. 6:30 AM - Dad at the table. Phone brightness on his face. He nods at Mom. Mom nods back. That's their good morning. 6:45 AM - Me and Junior. We eat with the TV on mute. Mom says TV at breakfast rots your brain, so we watch the pictures move with no sound.No one shouts. No one throws plates. Our neighbors who scream at each other at night - they have more life than us.We just... live. We pay. We eat. We sleep. We repeat.Then Mrs. Khumalo gave us the project."Grade 4s, for Life Skills this week: Record 10 moments your family laughed together."I took my pink notebook home like it was gold.DAY 1 - Monday I wrote the date and waited. Dinner....

The Richest Poor Nation: A Story of the DRC

 In the heart of Africa lies the Democratic Republic of Congo, a land so breathtakingly beautiful and unimaginably rich that it could, in theory, be one of the wealthiest countries on Earth. Beneath its fertile soils lies a treasure chest of minerals — cobalt, gold, diamonds, coltan, copper — resources the modern world depends on for everything from smartphones to electric cars. The rivers roar with hydroelectric potential, the forests teem with biodiversity, and the land could feed millions if harnessed well.

And yet… the people remain poor.

Decades of political instability, corruption, and exploitation have strangled the nation’s potential. Successive governments, instead of using the country’s wealth to build schools, hospitals, roads, and industries, have treated public office like a personal gold mine. The riches flow out — to foreign corporations, to private offshore accounts — while the streets of Kinshasa and the villages of Kivu cry out for clean water, decent wages, and peace.

Foreign powers have long played their part in the tragedy. In the scramble for resources, powerful nations and corporations fund conflicts, arm militias, and strike deals that benefit the few while leaving the many in rags. The DRC’s minerals are polished and sold in glistening markets overseas, while the miners who dig them — often barefoot and risking their lives — earn barely enough to survive.

But the real heartbreak lies not only in the theft of minerals, but in the theft of possibility. Every child denied education, every farmer without tools, every doctor working without medicine — these are the invisible losses, the untold fortunes squandered.

Still, the people of the DRC are resilient. They sing, they build, they dream. And somewhere deep within the soil and the soul of the country lies the same hope that has endured for generations: that one day, the nation’s wealth will serve its people, not just its politicians.

The question is — will that day come before the riches run out?

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