Before the advent of modern warfare and all the plethora of weaponry displayed today, warriors in the past had to fight their enemies with crude weapons. These weapons ranged from bows and arrows to swords and even axes and cutlasses. Horses were also a part of such warfare and warriors were expected to fight hard. In fact, survival means no mistake

Sickle Cell Anemia: A Condition NOT A Death Sentence

Sickle Cell... these two words have been known to send a dreaded chill down the spine of many people. This is usually thanks to misconceptions and lack of adequate knowledge and sensitization concerning the condition. Many have erroneously assume that being a Sickler is tantamount to having the Grim Reaper’s knell constantly knocking at the door of their lives, waiting for the least opportunity to snatch away that precious breathe that could mean the difference between life and death.

To be sure, life as a sickle cell patient is not all roses or chocolates. There are thorns mixed with headaches and dread. However, it is a condition that stems from genetic blood disorder often passed on to kids by parents who have the defective gene AS that causes the condition and which is common in people mostly of African descent.

A Joy2Endure

It has often been said that to be able to ride again, a great rider must always muster the courage to get back on the horse that threw them down. Suffice it to say almost everyone reading this will automatically understand what those words mean. However, just in case some do not get it, it simply means to be able to overcome or deal well with a situation, you have to be strong enough to face it hands on... in other words, grasp the bull by the horns and plunge into it.

The Guilt Vs Blame Game

Screams... Tears... Pains...

The triplets that shoot forth like babies after intense labour pangs.

It is mid night, sleep beckons and everyone gets ready to start the much needed trip into slumber land when shrill cries rein the air and screams follow. Sleep laden eyes and groggy feet make their way towards the sound. As they got closer to the screams, cold showers of guilt welcomed them; instant wakefulness followed and a beehive of activities take stock. Meanwhile the screams intensify; the pains gather momentum and the tears flow like streams of rivers, making it all look like a musical concert in which screams, tears and pains compete to develop a soprano of blame.

Guilt... Blame...  Two words akin to the warrior’s world which go hand in gloves with the other like husband and wife.