Everyone loves the idea of the diaspora when it’s just about accents and “international perspectives,” right? A little exotic seasoning to sprinkle on your diversity panel. But living in the diaspora isn’t just airport codes and WhatsApp calls across time zones. It’s exile. It’s grief with no funeral. It’s shouting in a language your children might never fully understand.
It is a strange thing, isn’t it — to wake up each day and realize that breathing, eating, and simply existing have become labors more brutal than the work we were taught to dream of? There was a time, or so they told us, when work was about building a life, stacking one brick of hope upon another, until you could look back and say you had truly lived. Now, survival itself has been twisted into a full-time job, stripped of dignity, stripped of meaning, stripped of the simple promise that if you worked hard, you would be okay.
Let me be real with you. Big Pharma isn’t a cabal of vampires gathering at midnight to discuss how to keep the world sick. There is no Illuminati-like council of CEOs clinking glasses while plotting a flu outbreak in Botswana.
You know why?
It’s funny. We have more access to information than any generation before us. I can sit here in Marondera or Harare or even Bulawayo and read what someone in Tokyo or São Paulo is thinking in real time…..
Let me be clear—I have nothing against ambition. Dream. Build. Thrive. But what y’all are doing out here? This “I-sleep-3-hours-and-drink-anxiety-for-breakfast” lifestyle? That’s not ambition. That’s pathology. That’s collective burnout masquerading as motivation, and someone needs to say it out loud……
Continue reading “Your Grind Culture is Killing Us, and You Still Call it Ambition”
You ever talk to a conspiracy theorist? No, I mean really talk to one. It’s like stepping into a kaleidoscope of nonsense—colours, patterns, wild connections—but zero structure. Zero proof. Just vibes.
Continue reading “Conspiracy Theorists Are Just Creative Without Discipline”
Donald Trump is what happens when a country mistakes loudness for leadership. He is a walking, orange migraine with a gold toilet and the ego of a demigod. A man who talks in loops, lies like it’s a reflex, and makes fascism sound like stand-up comedy…
Continue reading “Donald Trump Is a Madman With a Microphone”
You’re mad at robots? Seriously? You think Siri and ChatGPT are the reason you got laid off? That’s cute. Convenient, even. But let’s not be foolish. It wasn’t the algorithm that cut your healthcare. It was a man in a boardroom who wanted to buy a fourth yacht….
Continue reading “AI Didn’t Take Your Job—Capitalism Did”
Hey folks, it’s been a minute. Life’s been doing its thing — exams, adulting, the usual chaos. I just wrapped up my Hexco (Tertiary) exams yesterday (finally!), and honestly, I’ve missed this space more than I expected. So, while I’ve been a bit MIA, I’ve also been cooking up something fresh. Zealous Thierry’s got a new look. Yep, I decided it was time to revamp … Continue reading New Vibes
Lately, the same dream keeps returning to me, over and over. I wouldn’t call myself a person who trusts dreams. I don’t believe in prophecies or mystic signs, and I’ve never thought of sleep as anything more than rest. This blog was never meant for things like this. It’s a place for argument, for clarity, for the hard light of day, not visions. And yet, the dream comes back with such eerie detail, such deliberate structure, that it’s begun to feel like something more than just my mind wandering. I don’t know what it is. But I feel I have to write it down like I did the previous one. Not because I think it will come true, but because it won’t leave me alone.
Continue reading “My Dream: A Vision In The Winds”
Zealous Thierry 