It’s that same story all over again, another black soul, voicing her injustice to a faceless, un-interested audience. My story is most likely similar to another black or ethnic minorities past, born into a country of war, flown to another country to be taken into the care of an aunt (who I’ll unknowingly refer to as mother) and my life will forever become tainted by the acts of those so-called adults. However I cannot blame them, for if it weren’t for their decisions would I even be alive today? Growing up the English old-fashioned way, which is very much still of fashion for all African families, girls and women cooked, cleaned and took care of the children, although these are all great essential skills in preparation for the future, how do they serve they’re purpose to a first class graduate female, still living at home, working in life-sucking profession with no success in the field she’d stressed and cried over for the best part of four years? Oh and let’s not forget unmarried and unattached! Someone tell me what it is that holds us (women/ minorities) back to the point of total breakdown and depression? Am I not working hard... (read more)