We must never forget those who died in Grenfell Tower!!!

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Have We Had Help?

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Unfortunately both the social media and our often politically biased news broadcasters and newspaper industry have the tendency to soon forget tragedies like the deaths a few days ago, of seventy-nine innocent immigrants forced to live in a substandard council tower block, ironically located in Kensington, one of the richest boroughs in London. Given that there are four thousand of these tower blocks here in the UK, every man woman and child living in them has the right to be safe.

To date, no one in authority (neither Kensington Borough Council nor the Government) has taken charge of the situation, or admitted culpability. Nor has the borough’s sleeping partner responsible for the safety of the tower block been named and shamed, despite the vast crowd of angry people demanding justice for the victims, who marched on the Council offices!

Instead its the people living in the neighbourhood surrounding what…

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Basic Instinct

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bowaleXO

Not everyone was brought up with a silver spoon!! As a matter of fact, majority of Nigerian families are below bourgeois, so it’s not surprising when children and youths gets easily pressured and intimidated to doing anything and everything to belong or feel among (Survive).

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Who was the Old Woman of Beare?

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aliisaacstoryteller

The legend of the veiled one

Who was the Cailleach Bheara? She appears as a mysterious and shadowy figure hovering around the edges of Irish folklore and myth, yet very little is known about her.

The word cailleach has come to mean ‘hag’, or ‘crone’, yet in Old Gaelic it actually means ‘veiled one’. This conjures up images of early Medieval Christian nuns, yet it is possible that the word has more ancient origins and could refer to the wise-women or female Druids of pre-Christian and maybe even pre-Celtic times.

The legend of the cailleach can be found not only in Ireland, but in Scotland and the Isle of Man, too. She is associated with Winter, and the creation of the landscape.

In Scotland, it is said that if St Brigid’s day (1st February) dawns clear and bright, it is because the Cailleach is out collecting firewood to keep…

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Little Lost Boy

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Death, The Life Story

sennon

The funniest thing Uncle Gordon ever did was put a large bouquet: triangular in shape and a foot and a half long, in the top pocket of his dress suit at my cousin’s wedding.  He didn’t make a speech but a statement.  He said, there is madness here.

I’d already noticed it.  It was hard not to.  He had a shock of dark, curly hair and a shy smile that gave a strong hint of the little boy he’d been.  He often looked awkward.  My mother implied that perhaps everything was not all there. I could testify to this: when you arrived at he and Aunt Joan’s house he’d scurry into the kitchen and make tea all round and often there would be a cry of, “Gordon,” from my aunt to propel him onto some other task: vegetable peeling, washing, windows, pots, toilet cleaning, drain clearing and so forth all…

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