They called them “new arrivals.” What they meant was: newly claimed bodies. Lined up in silence.
Measured. Examined. Not for their health—but for their usefulness.
This was not medicine. It was inventory. And this is what history tried to reduce to paperwork—but we remember.
We are trying to remember everything.
“Before you say ‘just come here legally,’ ask yourself when the laws were written—and who they were written for.”
“Behind every bar of sweetness, there’s a story waiting to be told.
May we choose to listen.”
“They said the empire ended—but it simply learned how to smile while stealing.”
The evolution of colonial control beneath a banner of progress.
The illusion of progress that keeps folding back on itself.
They’ll say it wasn’t that bad.
That the raids were necessary.
That the violence was policy.
But we saw it. We still see it.
We often think of colonialism as something that ended long ago.
But some histories don’t end—they echo.
This is a reflection on the quiet ways empire shifts shape, and how its presence lingers in the fabric of everyday life.
“This Is Where It Hurts”
Every spice on this table has a lineage. Every stamp, a severing. These hands don’t just cook—they remember, they resist. The war isn’t at the borders. It’s right here, in the kitchens, where culture is quietly taxed out of existence.
Beneath the Bread: The Religion That Fed the Empire What if you had the power to reshape the world around you? I know about what ifs. But…. In this moment of solitude, free from judgment and expectation, what if you have the opportunity to make a choice?How would you lead? Would you cover your ambitions…
This Is a Resurrection: When Soul Meets Hunger.
