Let me say what everyone is thinking but no one posts. Africa’s deepest wound is not poverty. It is not corruption; at least not the kind you can arrest. It is the wound we keep reopening on each other, daily, silently, and with a smile. The Stranger Gets the Red Carpet. The Brother Gets the Knife. When a white foreigner walks into an African office, something shifts in the room. Backs straighten. Voices soften. Coffee appears. This is not hospitality; hospitality is mutual. This is a reflex, trained over generations, that says: this person is the standard. Perform for them. And yes, colonialism built that reflex. We know the history. What we refuse to say aloud is that we have chosen to keep it running long after the colonizers formally left. The cruel irony? Even the laziest, most incompetent African professional can coast through a decade of mediocrity; as long as they master the art of performing deference to the right people. The system rewards the bow, not the brain. Fine. That i...
Edouard is a writer passionate about exploring the relationship between human behavior and the natural world. His work reflects on how modern social interactions mirror survival instincts found in nature, examining themes of competition, cooperation, insecurity, and empathy. Through his writing, he invites readers to better understand themselves and build more conscious, balanced ways of relating to others.