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ART AND LITERATURE: Tracing the Roots of the LGBTI Movement

Over the next couple of weeks, we will be looking at the history of the world’s LGBTI movement down to how international events led to the start of all the global movements as they are known to date. However, to fully understand how the movement was established, it is essential to also focus on the other aspects that greatly contributed to its growth ie culture, society and literature, religion and art.

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UBUNTU BIOGRAPHY PROJECT: Celebrating LGBTI People of African Descent

Ubuntu Biography Project is a groundbreaking effort to tell the largely untold stories of LGBTI men and women of African descent from all over the world. Its currently a popular Facebook page, ( https://www.facebook.com/UbuntuBiographyProject) is easily accessible to everyone. Ubuntu Biography Project (UBP) tells the largely untold stories of remarkable men and women who are involved in Human Rights, Social Justice and community building efforts around the world.

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Are We Defined by what We Wear?

Going by biblical stories, the first human beings as we are told, Adam and Eve never wore clothes on their bodies and that was just fine. The connotation of them getting aware of their nakedness ‘immediately after they sinned’ in the garden of Eden, is seriously only confusion that doesn’t quite rhyme perfect with the gist of the story, where Eve reportedly plucked a fruit from the forbidden tree and handed it over to Adam. Dressed or naked, the focus ought to have been put on Eve’s act, which in my view is the most important issue

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Women’s Day! Sheer Mockery: One Man’s View on Women’s Day

I followed with keen interest online engagements on the occasion of International Women’s Day. To say the least, it’s quite disgusting to see what people make of this day. While majority appreciate the fact that women hold a special position in our lives and therefore require recognition, the cartoons all depicted men taking over so-called women’s chores for celebratory purposes.

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I AM NOT READY OR AM I?

I have lived more than twice; a sane person would assume I speak of a life busting at its seams. I am not and barely eighteen years old. My 18th birthday was a week and half ago- the first time life became more than I could handle.

I slit my wrists and bled to death beneath a bridge or so I thought. Yet I came back to the same path with the faintest of memories and the heaviest sense of déjà vu toward every major decision.