In the bustling streets of India, where the sound of honking cars and the aroma of street food create a symphony of daily life, a different kind of energy was palpable in the air. The Indian General Elections of 2024 were not just another political event; they were a testament to the resilience and hope of the world's largest democracy. Amidst the cacophony of election rallies, debates, and intense media coverage, there was a quiet yet powerful movement taking place—one that was fueled by the common people of India. This movement wasn't driven by political parties or charismatic leaders, but by ordinary citizens who believed in the power of their vote. Take, for example, the story of Rani, a 78-year-old woman from a small village in Uttar Pradesh. Rani had seen it all—India's independence, its struggles, and its triumphs. Despite her frail health, she was determined to cast her vote. She had always believed in the democratic process, and to her, every vote mattered. On election day, Rani walked three kilometers to the nearest polling station, her back bent with age but her spirit unyielding. When asked why she went through so much trouble, she simply said, "This is my duty to my country. My vote is my voice, and I will make sure it is heard." In a remote corner of Maharashtra, a group of young college students organized a campaign to educate first-time voters about the importance of their participation in the elections. They went door-to-door in their village, holding workshops and discussions. The enthusiasm they generated was contagious. By the time election day arrived, the entire village was buzzing with excitement. The voter turnout in their area was the highest it had ever been. These stories were not isolated incidents. Across India, millions of people, from all walks of life, came together to participate in the democratic process. The elections were a reminder that despite the challenges India faced—be it economic, social, or political—there was an underlying current of hope and optimism that refused to be extinguished. The Indian General Elections of 2024 were not just about electing a new government; they were about reaffirming the faith of a nation in its democratic principles. It was about the young and the old, the rich and the poor, the urban and the rural, all coming together to make their voices heard. As the election results were announced, there was a sense of accomplishment, regardless of which party won. The real victory lay in the process itself—in the participation, in the stories of perseverance, and in the belief that every vote counted. India, with its diversity and complexity, once again demonstrated the strength of its democracy. The elections of 2024 were not just a political event; they were a celebration of the enduring spirit of a nation that continues to believe in the power of its people. And as the sun set on election day, the streets of India, from the smallest villages to the largest cities, were filled with a sense of hope—a hope that the future would be brighter, that challenges would be met with resilience, and that the democratic spirit of India would continue to thrive for generations to come.

When I came home and drank water, I felt as if everyone would come running to me and ask how I was? Why did I get so late in coming home today?But looking at my reflection in the glass, I could see the vermilion in my hairline. Riya, now you are married, she says to herself. Leaving behind the luxurious life of the city, she agreed to live in a small village for her father. She was very educated and wanted to study further. But her mother was suffering from blood cancer. In haste, her father married off his two daughters to whatever less-educated boys he could find. After some time, her mother died and her first child died in her womb due to a fall in the bathroom. When she had a second son, her husband started staying at home less often. and he started living where he worked. One day when Riya wanted to know where he lives?So he hit Riya very brutally. After a few days, Riya comes to know about her husband's illicit relationship. She calls at her home and tells them everything; her family members go there and beat up her husband badly. After their departure, Riya's husband beats her so much that she becomes unconscious. When Riya's family got the news, they said take the child and let's go. Riya's father filed a court case and kept his daughter with him. She went to court on several dates where her husband threatened to shoot her in front of everyone and also to take away their child. Her younger sister took help from an NGO for women. She lived at her father's house for three years and studied there but,These things started bothering the people around and they started giving unsolicited advice. They started taunting her, some started saying, how long will you stay here, your real home is there now, no matter how your husband is, you will remain better than him. Then the behaviour of other brothers and sisters in the house also changed. He wrote in the court that if anything happens to me then my in-laws will be responsible for it,And this man will not do this again. Her husband agreed to everything and she came home.A few days later, when she went to the kitchen to work, the moment she switched on the gas cylinder exploded and Riya got burnt. Her sister saved her but she was slightly burnt. When the police interrogated Riya and asked who had done this, she did not say anything and remained silent. Her husband did not even get her treated, then her father said that I will get your daughter treated, come home with me. Tears come in Riya's eyes, she wants to hug her father but cannot do so because of the burning sensation.

Your vote shapes policies, impacts communities, and secures democratic values. Each vote influences future generations and strengthens civic responsibility.

Yusuf Aliyu, also known as Man Of Yola (born 19 June 2003 in Jimeta Yola, Adamawa State) Yusuf Aliyu is fashion model, computer Scientists,Can Also Reserch such as algorithm and computer graphics and others, He was Born on 19 june 2003 in Yola (Adamawa State) in the Northern Part of Nigeria. He is currently 20 years old. Yusuf Aliyu is Currently Unmarried. Yusuf Aliyu, also known as Man Of Yola (born 19 June 2003 in Jimeta Yola, Adamawa State) Yusuf Aliyu is fashion model, computer Scientists,Can Also Reserch such as algorithm and computer graphics and others, He was Born on 19 june 2003 in Yola (Adamawa State) in the Northern Part of Nigeria. He is currently 20 years old. Yusuf Aliyu is Currently Unmarried.

Nothing but lush green filled the vision of Roman Santos, who spun to admire the spectacle. Under the shiny leaves, the umber-colored branches of the tree were well-hidden. It was like a sea of emeralds surrounding him, dancing in the air to the tone of the gentle wind which gave them a rhythm. Except that wind was from his own professor's fan. Roman crawled on all fours with his back only an inch from the jagged pine wood. Ever since he drank Dr. Miro's elixir, his entire body had shrunken down to the size of an ant; each leaf had become as big as his entire body. Dr. Miro's words from just an hour earlier still echoed in his head: “It's a true test. Drink this elixir, and you'll shrink so much that my bonsai tree will appear as a giant force of nature.” “So you're promising me that if I find every piece of gold slathered on its leaves, I'll win a million dollars?!” Roman asked as he hunched over his chair next to Dr. Miro's desk. “Yes,” the professor answered. “Remember, Roman. This bonsai tree is special. It's the rarest species in the world - one which can grow gold on its leaves. All you need to do is shrink down, collect the gold, and trade it in for cash.” As his recollection faded, Roman peered down the tree trunk, landing his eyes at the dirt which hosted the roots. Time to start hunting for that gold… he thought. With his sights on the first leaf in front, it didn't take long for him to locate his first piece of treasure. The glossy yellow made it easy to detect, and it appeared more splashed than slathered. Roman worked away at pulling the gold off of the leaf's surface - his fingers clawed at the edges while he heaved at his prize. By the time it finally unstuck itself from the leaf, Roman found his forehead drenched in sweat. “Ugh, this will take a while…” But it wasn't until the third leaf, at the sight of its thin and weak-looking petiole - “Wait, I'm so stupid…” - was when he realized how simple the task assigned to him truly was. With both hands gripping the sides of the leaf which was as wide as his entire torso, Roman twisted the entire blade menacingly. Within seconds, the petiole ruptured, tearing the entire leaf off its branch. “Alright!” One by one, Roman began breaking each leaf off entirely, while dropping them to the ground below between snaps. This is a much easier way to collect the gold! “Ouch,” he muttered, caressing his knee as it caught a bump on the twig he kneeled on. He forgot the tree's branches were snaggy and hardly sittable. I just have to avoid the sharper parts, he thought, and grinned as he continued collecting. To Roman, it simply meant higher risk, higher reward. For a million dollars, nothing was impossible. And so he continued breaking off every leaf from the bonsai tree. By the end of the day, only one thought lingered in his mind: How should I spend my million bucks? Not a single leaf remained on the tree. A smile engulfed his face as Dr. Miro greeted him from the ground below. “Congrats, now please come down.” A red ladder appeared just below his feet, prompting him to finally come down from a long day of treasure hunting. Roman smirked as he reached the ground, observing the pile of leaves he gathered next to the trunk. “You completed the task in a way I expected you to,” Dr. Miro explained. “Nice, now where's my money?” But then it happened. “Wait, what the fuck?!” Roman cried as his feet began sinking into the dirt. Any yank from either leg proved to be useless. “Your time has come to an end,” Dr. Miro explained with a sigh. “What do you mean?!” Roman yelled as the dirt underneath continued swallowing him up like quicksand. “You became greedy, and prioritized your own self-interests over the health of my bonsai tree.” “Screw off! You're the one who told me-” “Yes, that I know. And it's not just your fault, it's our fault.” With one last scream of agony, Roman's head tucked under the enveloping dirt from the ground. Two Days Later João walked into his former professor's lab while a policewoman followed from behind. “Dr. Roman Miros Santos passed away in his lab yesterday due to cerebral hypoxia,” the cop explained. “I recall he was also suffering from a few mental illnesses, and sometimes referred to himself as two different people,” replied João. “But even our president loved him.” “That's ‘cause he was an advocate for the President's Deforestation of the Amazon Rainforest project last year…” “Ah, yes, I remember his ten-year-old bonsai tree was completely dead when I found his body. No leaves, no life,” answered João. “There's a lot of folklore about that bonsai tree species. It's said that Gaia, the Goddess of Nature, created that tree to test the morals of humans. It could grow gold, but the only way to extract it without damaging the tree was to let the leaves fall by themselves. Gaia was testing greed. The tree's bumpy branches represented the uselessness of those who knew, but ignored its pleas for help.”

It wasn't every day you got to spend a whole bunch of days sleeping on the ground outside. It wasn't every day you got to spend a whole bunch of days sleeping on the ground outside with a pandemic raging on. It wasn't every day you got to spend a whole bunch of days sleeping on the ground outside with a pandemic raging on, during the COVID 19 pandemic. And yet, there I was, sleeping on the ground outside during a pandemic. Of all the places I could have been, I was homeless. There were a lot of people who were afraid. They heard about something that happened on the news, they got petrified of the potential results, and so they decided to bunker down and buy a whole bunch of toilet paper to the point were it was almost completely sold out in every grocery store. Can you imagine that much toilet paper being bought out? I guess I could? I mean, that was pretty ridiculous! That much toilet paper being bought out! Dude! That much toilet paper! Me? I wasn't afraid, and I still am not. For God is my refuge and my strength, and I put my trust in him. God says He will protect me in His word, so it will be. I don't need to see, I know and I believe. And so far, I haven't gotten COVID throughout the pandemic (and for all you conspiracy theorists out there, ‘the plandemic,' that being said with an overexaggerated wink), so, I think He's done a great job as He always does! He made heaven and earth and all things. Shouldn't I trust Him when He makes a promise? A lot of things were closed and being homeless that was frustrating at times. I was restricted in what I could do and how I could do it. There were so many of my favorite places that were shut down, and I was really limited in what I could do. But, I was pretty busy writing. I got my first publications throughout this pandemic so I am pretty happy. I remember calling my brother on the phone when he and my family had got covid and he was saying, “Dude, I lost my sense of smell and taste. It feels bad man,” He replied. I was chuckling and sarcastically replying with, “Oh, you poor, sad little thing, you,” and both of us started laughing. As the pandemic starts to wrap up, with tensions still high in some cases and people still on alert, I am still homeless as I write this and its frustrating at times, but I have hope. It may seem like its hopeless at times, but I know it's not! I have seen it first hand! God's been good this whole time, and I believe he will continue to be to the very end. For the time being, I need to keep striving and believing, not becoming disheartened or discouraged by the setbacks, and continue to believe despite the odds I go against. May Lord Jesus Christ have all the glory!

‘Cough-cough!' my throat wheezed, waking me up at nearly 4am. I looked around and saw that mostly everyone was sleep. The few that were awake were staring at me. I breathed in, out, audible breaths that made me yearn for my asthma pump. I waited though, instead, rising to my bare feet. Usually, I was careful when I stood up, a particular dose of consideration for my neighbors above and beside me. They next bunk over was an arm's length away. In the dorms of Lincoln Correctional Facility, it was literally impossible to social distance. Five dorms filled with twenty people, totaling at one hundred people on a single wing. My legs felt heavy, as though I were wearing ankle weights. Because they were so weak, I grabbed onto the bunks, shaking them slightly, all carefulness thrown out the window. I went towards the light in the long hallway. My eyes were burning by the time I made it to the shared bathroom. “Feeling better bro?” I heard someone say. “Yeah, I'm good” I lied, the blood rushing to my head obscuring my vision. I honestly couldn't tell who had spoken to me. I sluggishly went over to the line of sinks, washing my hands in the steamy, boiling hot water that spilled from the faucet. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Thick bags under my brown eyes, rough scraggly hair beginning to cover my face. “I just want to die” I said in a low voice, practically incoherent to the others who were in the common bathroom. I threw water in my face before I stalked back towards my dorm. There were others of course, in the hallway in front and behind me. But the noises are what got to me. People coughing and sneezing. Like its honestly possible that everyone on that wing had covid and yet nothing was being done about it. When I made it back to my bed area, I lay down, shivering slightly. I think more than anything I was sad. My outdate was less than two weeks away and before I come home, I get sick. I was so disappointed in the system, mainly because I wasn't the only one going through the same thing. Instead of releasing the people who were already coming home, they would rather keep healthy people and put them in bunks next to sick people. But then again, in our society, felons or rather incarcerated individuals weren't even treated as second class citizens because technically we weren't citizens at all...just state property. As I lie down, it feels like someone is sitting on my chest. When I told the nursing staff about it, she gave me an ibuprophen. I took one along with a vitamin I had bought at commissary and took a weak puff from my asthma pump. It didn't do much, but it was enough relief to put me to sleep. My eyes softly closed and I suddenly I saw nothing but darkness. Darkness...until the light was suddenly turned on in the room and I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stirred, a small nurse standing before me in between the bunk beds. She reached down, wiping the thermometer across my forehead. “96” she soon said, turning away. So many questions popped into my head at that moment. Like how can you have covid, but not a fever? And for the people who did have fevers, was it possible that they didn't have covid? The weight of the world on my chest, I reached over to my small property boxed lined against the wall beneath my television. On its surface was a small notebook I kept handy. I kept hearing this one phrase, I repeated it over and over in my head. ‘I want to give up but I can't...this is not how my story ends' The words spilled onto the notebook's hard surface in blue ink. With those words I began to think of my time in prison, seven complete years at this point. I thought about the person I was when I started my journey, my battle with depression after I had gotten found guilty, the fights and hardships I had suffered especially the month I spent locked away in isolation. I though the sleepless nights, the starving, the occasional brutal treatment from the officers, literally everything I had been through because of my actions. Most of all, I remembered what had gotten me through. I looked at the composition notebook in my grasp. It was almost filled from cover to cover, my ugly handwriting littering every page. Throughout my entire time in prison I was writing, from books to short novels, movies, even music. Somewhere along the lines I forgot about that. I sat up, my thumping head resting in my palms. I was so tired; I just wanted to lay and sleep all day. Instead, I rose and went to the bathroom where I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I forced myself to eat. My stomach could only handle a peanut butter and jelly sandwich but it was enough. After I ate, I drank nearly a gallon of water. I didn't know that I was that thirsty until I started drinking. Suddenly, I could breathe better. That same day I went outside and I ran laps on the grassy patio. My lungs burned and my body screamed at me, but I just kept repeating the words I wrote. ‘This is not how my story ends'

WHEN TIME COMES...won't a matchstick set the forest on fire and suffocate the dwarfs of the jungle suffering from dementia? Questions 1. Who authored this piece of writing? 2. State the type and genre of the text. 3. What was the writer's goal? 4. What factual information do you know about His Excellence Magufuli? 5. “Politics is a dirty game” justify the statement in about 100 words. 6. Give the meaning of the following words as used in the text. (a) Half-witted (b) Ostracise (c) niche (d) fashionable (e) underrate (f) avaricious (g) oppress 7. Construct two sentences with each word as stated in question 6 above. 8. In about 250 words explain why it's imperative for the youth to proactively get involved in the political welfare of their own countries.

One of my most memorable achievements was winning the pro death penalty debate while being against the death penalty. During my sophomore year in highschool, I had to debate against two of my friends, while my classmates decided the winners, as well as my final project grade. I knew majority of people were sympathetic by nature so they would be against the death penalty. So, I had to figure out how to erase that sympathy by replacing it with a demand for justice. I understood that for the most part, when people thought about the death penalty they imagined a picture of an innocent man being hung. Therefore, I had to take the humanity away from the vicious predators who were likely to be given the death penalty, and give a real image of what kind of people they were. My first argument was about taxes, while I was in a room full of 15 and 16 year olds who had never paid any. So my opening sentence was: “Who wants to take home a murderer?” Like the reaction I predicted, I got: shock, laughter, and confusion in return. I continued with my statement: “Anyone? There has to be someone curious. Miss M? Nobody? Okay, what if I give you more options: a murderer, a rapist or a terrorist. Take your pick.” Getting the same response, I then proceed to explain my reason for asking. “You know when your parents ask you to do something, but it's not really a question. You either do it or you do it. So, when I asked who wants to take home a murderer, it wasn't a question. I'm telling you that's what you're doing and it's final. Now there are rules, and if you don't follow them, you'll have to pay. You're all taking home a serial killer, who you will feed three times a day, give clothes to, and any medical care they need. Oh, and he kills 99% of the time, but don't worry he's in a good mood 1% of the time, so he might not kill you. This is what a life sentence in prison is. You might not be paying for them now, but guess who's paying taxes in three years. When you're doing two, three or four jobs to feed yourself and your family. You're going to feed these criminals three meals a day, give them clothes, and if the murderer who killed 10 people ever gets sick, you're paying his medical bills. Who needs a job when you can sit in prison and get everything you need? You're set for life. According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, the annual cost of mass incarceration in the United States is $81 billion. Criminals should be paying for what they've done, not sitting in prison peacefully spending their life living off of our tax money. Yes, the death penalty costs more. But since you're paying that tax money regardless, wouldn't you like to decide if you want to feed that murderer or permanently get rid of them? It's your money, maybe you should decide what should be done with it.” With that, I knew I had set the stage for the remaining of my arguments and continued gaining support throughout the debate, ultimately winning it with 16:2 votes.

Hannah-Grace was always different. She was peculiar. She wasn't like your normal story character, do you know why? Because she was an African outcast. It was rumoured in her village that her mother was a slut and her father a thief. She didn't have anything good to hold onto but she chose to be different and move past her parents vile reputation and become the best of it. In Africa, children like her were always looked down upon because society believed she had nothing to offer. Going to school was worse because she was picked on by not only her peers but her teachers also, all except one. Mrs Ibitunde. An African woman from the well known Yoruba tribe in Nigeria. She saw a girl with lots of potential and wasn't afraid to let others know how much that child was worth. Hannah felt love for the first time the day Mrs Ibitunde came to her defence after being welcomed into their class as their new economics teacher. The other students had mocked her when a question was asked in class and she answered correctly before the teacher could affirm her answer. She was expecting Mrs Ibitunde to be like the other teachers and mock her as well, rather she scolded the students and told them she was correct and gave a rule that anyone caught mocking any student in her class would be punished. That was when she knew Mrs Ibitunde was different from the other teachers. She smiled at the considerate woman before her. That was how there bond grew, strengthening the little girl. One day as they walked back home together as they had begun doing after that incident, Mrs Ibitunde asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up and she happily replied that she wanted to be an Economist. That she wanted to be like Mrs Ngozi Okoji-Iweala. The greatest economist Nigeria had had. Mrs Ibitunde smiled at her enthusiastic answer and told her about a university far from Africa. The great University of Amsterdam. Hannah smiled and said she couldn't go because her parents barely even give her money to add to what she makes from hawking water on the streets for schooling. Mrs Ibitunde smiled and explained that she could go if she got a scholarship. That was how plans began to be put in place and studying was set into a different pace. Hannah wanted to prove to everyone and herself that she wasn't a victim as the world looked upon her as. She was bigger than that. Her new found confidence put a step in her stride and a constant smile in her face which confused not only her peers and teachers who picked on her but also everyone in their community who looked down upon her because of who her parents were. The day of the scholarship exam came sooner than she expected and she felt nervous despite the constant words of encouragement Mrs Ibitunde whispered to her as they journeyed to the scholarship center where she would write the exam. She did her best as she promised herself she would, and give it her everything. Few weeks after the exam Mrs Ibitunde called her to her office and gave her the bad news. She wasn't chosen because she was African and she was from a rural community which no one recognised. She was devastated. She cried for days but then suddenly came out of that despair and told Mrs Ibitunde that she wanted to retake the exam. Luckily for her , these scholarship exams came four times a year. She had partaken in the first one, she studied harder and worked more to raise the money for the registration. Taking the exam for the second time she prayed for good news this time. Yet to her disappointment, she still didn't make it because of a controversy about her skin colour and her background. Not losing hope she wrote the third time and still wasn't listed. Mrs Ibitunde never having seen that kind of determination in a child mistreated and looked down upon so much. A child born after the 2020 pandemic. Even in a country still suffering from the economic meltdown due to the pandemic,Hannah worked hard to be exceptional. Mrs Ibitunde wrote to the university of Amsterdam as an alumni requesting sponsorship for Hannah's education. Hannah was just coming back from the market after a stressful day of selling water when she sites Mrs Ibitunde and ran to welcome her. Her joy knew no bounds, as Mrs Ibitunde hands her the letter she had lost hope of seeing. Mrs Ibitunde explained to her how the letter came about and encouraged her to chase her dreams. It's been ten years since that day, and she couldn't help but smile as she remembered her journey. Looking at her children play with her husband she remembered why she changed her name to hope, because that was what brought her through. HOPE.

I'm a second year English Major, with a double minor in Legal Studies and Sociology. I want my life to mean something, I want to stand up for the little guy, I want to make a difference. I never expected that I'd live through a time like this. There's a global pandemic the likes of which I'd never heard of before, and ongoing protests and rallies to stop injustice that is happening all over my country, and I'll be the first to say, I'm afraid. I'm afraid for my family, for my elderly neighbors, for my best friends, for my future. But what is all of that worth, if the base is broken, if the foundation is cracked? You see, I'm so afraid, but now I'm more afraid for our society. I'm afraid that the country I love so much, the society that I've been taught so much about, doesn't have the best interest of everyone at its heart. Because I look around, and I see sadness and pain in the eyes of my darker skinned brothers and sisters. I see the reflections of the brutality and injustice that they experience everyday in their eyes. I see a nation that will not rest until there are changes, until there is justice, until there is true equality. I also look around and see outrage and misseducation, despair and self-loathing, anger and corruption. I scrolled through social media and saw a young man shot down in the street, I turned on the news and saw a man gasping for air as he died, I opened a newspaper and saw a beautiful young woman who was killed in her apartment. No one person was the turning point, but there's no more room, not for one more death. When I go out, I look at my skin and know I don't have to be afraid for the same reasons that others do. I can put on a mask and walk into a convenience store and no one is going to call the cops. I can pull over in a white neighborhood and no one thinks I don't belong. I can fall asleep without wondering if I'm going to wake up or not. When I went out I covered my face, I covered my hair, I wore long sleeves. When I went out I packed a first aid kit and bottles of water to give out. When I went out I packed granola bars and bandages. When I went out I packed my camera and notepad so that I could share people's stories. I know that my voice matters, but not as much as my presence. My words only mean as much as the actions that back them up. My social media posts only mean as much as the petitions that are linked below them. My photos and snapshots of life in a single moment only mean as much as the stories of those within them. So when I go out, I listen, I ask, I offer my help, I cry with the mothers crying in the street for their babies, I chant with the crowd that longs for justice. I look out over a sea of weeping eyes, mouths and noses obscured by masks and bandanas, fists of all shades raised in the air, and the only thing that I'm not afraid for is change. I am so ready for change. My future is the one that I want to write about, the one that I'm fighting for; Our future is the one that we make ourselves.

Is Covid-19 A Retribution From On High? For believers in a ‘Higher Power' of whatever hue, there must be times when one wonders if that heavenly body ever loses patience with what goes on below. Just imagine that said entity, after creating a magical gift like the planet Earth, balking at the mere sight of the inflicted destruction created by the modern-day human rulers. So picture if you will, the Earth designed to be the epitome of perfection, with deep blue oceans, filled with cleansing marine life, corals and fauna. The lush green pastures and forests, a veritable playground for animals of every kind to frolic and multiply in. And a sky, lovingly painted in an infinite pastille of blue. The Sun, positioned to cascade the world with daytime light. Its health giving rays a source of energy, vitamins and radiation to promotion the essential growth to Earths plant life. Then to offer a twist of gaiety, brightly coloured birds added to soar free upon the thermals singing and chirping their own sweet song. Insects of all shapes and sizes, also taking their pleasure by cleaning and preening the land, whilst employed by ‘Mother Nature' as her little postmen of pollen to fertilize the eagerly awaiting flowers. Finally, to the world came man and woman in human form. By purpose they were first made humble, introduced as merely another species on this vast orb of paradise. But human's had not been created as equals, far from it. They were enhanced in their powers, by featuring highly dexterous hands and a powerful brain, capable of ever wider thought and development. The human, by design, was destined to evolve, blossom, and ultimately achieve mastery over the planet. Indeed blossom they did over countless centuries. Through trial and error and with the use of ingenuity, human's conquered the arts of cultivation, husbandry and propagation. This set them apart from other species, now they could not only create food, but store it for when needed. Thus humans could concentrate their powerful minds on an ever wider scale. Yet over time the human thrust for world improvement began to lose its way. Progress became twisted into the pursuit of false gods called money and power. The simple basics of life as initially created for beauty, necessity or utility, were becoming abused in the pursuit of profit. The true purpose of evolution becoming corrupted by neglect, or as mere collateral damage of mans short term objectives. So by now, the believers in the ‘Heavenly Body', should not be criticized for wondering if some of the worlds disasters of nature, weren't in some form an early warning of displeasure as cast down from on high? The words: “Don't push your luck too far humans!” Coming to mind. But such actions in the past were predominantly a regional issue, whereas now the life threatening pollution and abuse circumvents the world. Those original blue oceans are now awash with detritus. The lush green pastures and forests, plundered for minerals, or stripped bare to return ever greater profits for ‘The Man'. Originally human leaders were men of vision who nurtured the land whilst thanking it for its blessings. Such men of wisdom have now sadly gone, and in their place sit closed minded men of money, thirsty for power and addicted to wealth. Some notably worthless caretakers, through lack of intellect, or simply devoid of interest, actually lay sermons to the beauty of power and wealth. With heads held high and puffed out chests, they espouse how the ultimate value of the world is calculated in the monetary depiction of a long line of zero's on a computer screen. So with all things considered, who would blame the ‘Higher Power' looking down on such worthless views to take some action? How can such men of power, deaf, dumb and blind to reason, be made to see that they are dragging the world down the wrong path? Subtle warnings of the past have come and gone without effect, Mother Nature has displayed her power in many forms of recent years, but no change of direction appears forthcoming. Has the time eventually come when a ‘Final Warning' from on high is due? I for one can almost hear the words from the heavens… “Send in the Covid-19!” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZypKfRKGRLk

Today is May 1, 2020: I wonder exactly how this month will play out? Will it be politics as usual for our elected representatives? One party against another? Or will they truly consider what is best for our nation's peoples? And will our people truly consider the decisions of our leaders as being the best possible decisions in a difficult time? Or will the people see political leaders making decisions that accrue power to themselves? And following any lifting of restrictions that have hampered our freedoms to travel, to work, or to gather together, will we be able to pick up the pieces of our lives and create a new positive lifestyle? One that will help not just us, but our communities to recover and rebuild? Just as the flowers are once again blooming and bringing beauty and joy to many, may we do our part to bring beneficial changes to the lives we touch. I have chosen a photo of flowers on a type of grass, each flower is smaller than 1/16 of an inch, but they add to the beauty around me. Our efforts may be small, but they add up.

Courtesy Of The Carter Photo Gallery I Love Great Books as they enlighten me and this is where I get my greatest insights. This is an article about the greatest book I have ever read about the miracle at Camp David, and the fine art of peacemaking. The book is entitled Thirteen Days, Carter, Begin, and Sadat at Camp David by Lawrence Wright. I have a Master's Degree in Government and Politics and I learned more about diplomacy and peacemaking from this book than I did in all my years as a student. You can have the same success by reading great books at the library. Wright's book displays the principles of diplomacy and peacemaking that can be used to peacefully resolve any conflict. These principles can also be used to resolve the conflicts in your life. Here are the universal principles of diplomacy and peacemaking: 1. Peace Is Always Possible When President Carter came into office, the consensus at the time was that peace between Israel and her Arab neighbors was impossible. President Carter was the only known major leader in his generation who believed real peace was possible and he pursued it with great vigor and determination as he believed God Himself wanted him to bring peace to the Middle East. 2. Chose a Peaceful Environment President Carter chose Camp David as it is isolated, peaceful, close to nature, and would encourage people to leave their grudges behind. 3. Be Willing To Make Sacrifices For Peace Carter, Begin, and Sadat were willing to pay the price for peace. President Carter risked his presidency. President Sadat gave up Egypt's traditional role as leader of the Arab world as the peace treaty was widely opposed in the Arab world. Prime Minister Begin put Israel's security on the line as he gave up the entire Sinai Peninsula, a strategically important piece of real estate, to make peace with Egypt. 4. Know the People Involved in the Conflict President Carter studied and understood President Sadat and Prime Minister Begin and that made it possible to negotiate the peace treaty. President Carter studied a thick briefing book that the government compiled. Carter's understanding of Prime Minister Begin made peace with Israel possible. The Camp David conference was beginning to conclude on the thirteenth day and there was no final agreement as Prime Minister Begin was holding out. President Carter knew that his grandchildren meant the world to him, and he used this to his advantage. President Carter had a batch of photographs for the three leaders to sign, and they were to be souvenirs for Begin's grandchildren. Carter signed each photograph with the inscription "with love" and wrote the name of each grandchild on the photos. Begin was sitting on the porch in great anguish because the negotiations had failed. When Carter approached him Begin simply wanted to dismiss Carter. Carter handed Begin the photos and he noticed that he had signed the top photograph with the child's name on it. For example, the signing read "To Ayelet." Begin was moved by Carter's display of human kindness and compassion and he froze as he read the names of the grandchildren on the photos. One by one he read the children's names and Begin began to cry. Begin invited Carter into the cabin and suddenly Begin was friendly. Begin changed his mind and accepted the agreement. 5. Be Flexible President Carter wanted a comprehensive peace treaty. When this proved impossible, Carter lessened his goal to a separate peace between Israel and Egypt. 6. Know Your Proper Role Frequently, a peacemaker can be successful simply by being a facilitator or mediator. This is not always possible, and then the peacemaker must play a larger role and become a catalyst. This requires the peacemaker to get personally involved in the conflict and present specific proposals to resolve the issues. Begin and Sadat could not make any progress by talking to each other, so President Carter had to play a much larger role. President Carter became a catalyst for peace and began presenting specific proposals to solve the issues. President Carter used the one-text procedure which is based on a simple concept. As the catalyst, President Carter wrote the basic document or peace treaty and then asked each side for their response. Issues that are not contested are considered agreed upon. Those that are contested are then dealt with by continually narrowing the differences. When each side finally agrees on an issue, that issue is considered complete. The key is that as the catalyst, President Carter controlled the document. When the contenting parties hit a stalemate and could not agree, President Carter proposed new ideas and new language. Issues that would lead to war and economic ruin in the Middle East were resolved. 7. Be Persistent It took thirteen arduous days to negotiate this agreement, and there were plenty of opportunities to give up. Carter pursued peace until he finally had an agreement.

Part III: Are We Blind To It All? Theodore Roosevelt cared. I wish that wasn't a billion times more credit I could give to most presidents. Born into a wealthy family, he somehow grew up to understand class struggle and the fact that people who were just slaves forty years ago weren't going to rise up without the help of their much better off neighbors. Modernizing Jefferson's statement a century prior, “The debasement of the blacks will, in the end, carry with it the debasement of the whites.” Yet again, a prophecy? Yes. Was it acted upon? No. What Teddy was able to accomplish though was the dismantling of multiple corporations, food and drug regulations, and great strides in workers' rights. The crippling imperialism at the heart of this country also starts with Teddy. He cared, but that care couldn't stay domesticated. Yet, no one was a greater threat to the system than Woodrow Wilson. His fourteen points serving as a modern political ninety-five theses that explicitly described the dismantling of colonialism, world peace, open borders, and free trade. He implemented a federal income tax with the top being taxed at 77%, lowered tariffs, and reformed big banks. Wilson was a nightmare to the establishment. As we'll see with all three of the major progressive presidents, there was a catch. Woodrow Wilson was pro-segregation and even let it occur in his own office as he said after firing 15 black federal employees, "There are no government positions for negroes in the South. A negro's place in the corn field." as well as outlawing interracial marriage in DC. His excuse? It was in the manner of “If you keep them apart there's no possible way there could be any racial tension”. Was that true? The lynching postcards, race riots, and theatrical release of “Birth of a Nation” would all say otherwise. His policies would cause a massive economic boom though. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. On May 31st, 1921 a race based massacre would demolish the richest black community in the country, Greenwood. On October 24th, 1929 the wealthiest nation in the world would collapse. Part IV: What Have We Become? Franklin Delano Roosevelt ran the country for 12 years and didn't waste a second of it. The New Deal immediately struck at the structure that had been ironically keeping America down. The housing act, social security, wealth tax, major bank reform, and Wagner act. Eleanor championed civil rights while Franklin wrote in an executive order that outlawed race based employment. FDR oversaw a new America, one able to escape a Great Depression due to a great revelation. It was beautiful. Oh sorry, there is a catch. After Pearl Harbor, it was ordered that over 100,000 Japanese-Americans had to stay in camps during a time known as Japanese Internment due to terror induced impulses. “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself” he said. “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country!”, so what did JFK do exactly? Well, Frank Zappa sums it up perfectly with “What's there to live for, who needs the Peace Corps?” as the warmongering Kennedy had every American fearing for their lives on a daily basis. He never got to see the escalation of the Vietnam War. Now the question is, who would get to see its end? Richard Nixon was swept up by political theater. A man of restoration, peace, and development quickly destroyed by a stupidity that hid deep inside him. Desegregation, peaceful ties with China, strides in medicine, deescalation of the cold war, and attempts to fix the fractured middle east all swept away because of three things. Kissinger, the fact that strategy is nothing in the face of politics, and Watergate. A scandal that still stands as the largest blemish on Nixon's record over nonstop wars erupting in the area he sought to repair most and United States backed state backed terrorism: the ultimate proxy. Ronald Reagan was an existential crisis. A conservative hero who gave amnesty to 3 million immigrants, a Capitalist that backed the Khmer Rouge, a war on drugs while selling cocaine to fund a fraudulent arms deal. Reaganomics destabilized the markets and budget while we try it again. He proved that the people could become nothing and that's exactly what we did.