We were having lunch somewhere in Kenya and these two lovely kids came to join us, brother and sister Abigail and Collins. It was a joy sharing our meal with them. Abigail came first, then Collins came to join her. A special moment.
Things I Feel Strongly About
Thursday, 12 November 2026
Wednesday, 11 November 2026
Why I Still Blog in an Age of Endless Scrolling
Spend ten minutes on any major social media app today, and you can feel your brain shifting gears. We aren’t really reading anymore; we’re scanning. Driven by algorithmic feeds, infinite scrolling, and fifteen-second videos, the modern internet is built for speed. It rewards whatever stops a thumb mid-scroll, which means immediate reaction has quietly replaced sustained reflection.
In an environment designed for split-second attention, thoughtfulness becomes a liability. Nuance doesn't fit neatly into a twenty-second clip. Worse, the way these platforms are built ties everything we say directly to personal branding. Every thought is stamped with a profile picture, a follower count, and a public scoreboard of likes. When you post on social media, you aren't just sharing an idea—you are managing an image, chasing reach, or feeding an algorithm. It’s hard to be truly honest when you’re performing for an invisible crowd.
That is precisely why I still love blogging.
For those of us who aren't trying to build a personal brand, go viral, or monetise our lives, a personal blog remains the best corner of the internet. Unlike social media, where you are essentially renting space on a noisy, algorithm-controlled stage, a blog is a quiet room of your own. There is no character limit forcing you to chop an idea in half before it’s fully formed. Nobody is penalising you for taking three paragraphs just to set up a thought. Here, an idea is allowed to breathe, wander, and arrive at its own conclusion.
More than anything, blogging takes away the pressure of the crowd. Without the constant dopamine hit of real-time metrics—or the low-grade anxiety of a comment section pile-on—you are free to stop performing. When you strip away self-promotion and money, writing goes back to what it was always meant to be: a way to think out loud. Half the time, I don't sit down at the keyboard knowing exactly what I believe; I write to figure it out. A blank page gives you permission to be uncertain, vulnerable, and genuinely curious—things that rarely survive the harsh glare of a timeline.
To me, blogging is still the rawest, most honest way to put yourself out into the world. It isn't polished for a brand deal, packaged for a trend cycle, or rushed out to beat a twenty-four-hour news clock. A blog post doesn't need a flashy hook or trending audio to justify taking up space. Its only job is to say what you actually mean, as clearly as you can.
Social media is only going to get faster, louder, and more focused on metrics. And that's fine—it has its place. But as long as there are people who care more about depth than reach, and understanding than applause, the humble blog isn't going anywhere. There is still nothing quite like the quiet, deliberate act of sitting down and putting real words on a page.
Where I Stand
There are moments in life that sound larger in the retelling than they feel when you are standing inside them.
When a senior political leader made romantic advances towards me, the surreal part was not the intensity of the moment, but how ordinary my own reaction turned out to be. People often assume that proximity to immense power carries a kind of gravity that makes everything else feel small. In reality, it had the opposite effect. The sharper the contrast became between that world and my own, the clearer my priorities felt.
I did not feel torn, and I did not feel tempted. My thoughts went straight to my partner, and to the life we have spent years building together.
When you have shared a long history with someone, your relationship is not an idea you have to talk yourself into defending. It is simply the ground you stand on. It is made up of countless unremarkable days, quiet understandings, and the ease of being known without needing to explain yourself. Next to something that steady, a passing moment of flattery or status carries very little weight.
Saying no did not require a speech or a dramatic gesture. It was just a clear, simple refusal, followed by stepping back into the life I actually wanted. There was no sense of having given anything up, because nothing on offer was worth trading for what I already had.
Looking back, I rarely think about the encounter itself. What stays with me is the quiet reassurance of knowing where I belong. Titles come and go, and loud moments eventually pass, leaving behind the things that were real all along.
The Quiet Sanctuary
Why blogging endures in an age of fleeting attention.
Over the last decade, the architecture of the modern internet has undergone a quiet, fundamental shift. Where the early web once encouraged lingering, reading, and wandering down rabbit holes of interconnected thought, today’s dominant social media platforms are engineered for velocity. Driven by algorithmic feeds, infinite scrolling, and the explosive rise of short-form video, social media has conditioned us to consume information in fractions of a second. In this environment, the currency is immediate reaction rather than sustained reflection, and thoughtfulness has been steadily pushed to the margins.
This shift has altered not only how we consume media, but how we express ourselves. When a platform rewards whatever stops a thumb mid-scroll, nuance becomes a liability. Complex ideas are compressed into punchy aphorisms, twenty-second video clips, or outrage-inducing hot takes. Furthermore, the mechanics of modern social media inherently tie expression to personal branding. Every post is accompanied by a profile picture, a follower count, and a public ledger of likes and shares. As a result, much of online communication is filtered through the lens of self-promotion, curated self-image, or the pursuit of monetisation. People perform their thoughts for an invisible audience, optimising their words for engagement rather than truth.
Yet, precisely because the mainstream digital square has become so loud and transactional, a quieter, older medium continues to thrive beneath the surface: the personal blog.
For those whose primary goal is neither fame, fortune, nor carefully managed optics, blogging remains the preferred refuge. Unlike social media, which demands that you rent space on an algorithmically controlled stage, a blog is a room of one's own. There is no character limit forcing an idea to be truncated before it is fully formed, and no algorithm penalising a writer for taking three paragraphs to set up a premise. On a blog, an idea is allowed to breathe, meander, and arrive at its conclusion at its own natural pace.
More importantly, blogging removes the immediate pressure of the crowd. Without the constant dopamine loop of real-time metrics or the anxiety of a viral pile-on, the writer is freed from performing. When self-promotion and monetisation are stripped away, writing returns to its most fundamental purpose: a tool for thinking. Often, a blogger does not sit down knowing exactly what they believe; they write to figure it out. The blank page offers space for vulnerability, uncertainty, and genuine curiosity—qualities that rarely survive the harsh glare of a social media feed.
In this sense, blogging remains the rawest and most honest way to express one's thoughts online. It is unpolished by design, unfiltered by trend cycles, and unhurried by the ticking clock of a twenty-four-hour news cycle. A blog post does not need a flashy hook or a trending audio track to justify its existence. Its value lies entirely in the clarity of the prose and the sincerity of the mind behind it.
Social media will likely continue to accelerate, shrinking our collective attention spans and turning ever more of human interaction into a marketplace of personal brands. Yet as long as there are people who value depth over reach, and understanding over applause, the humble blog will endure. It stands as a reminder that the most meaningful conversations on the internet do not happen in the shout of the crowd, but in the quiet, deliberate act of putting words on a page.
Monday, 9 November 2026
How Foreign Industrial Fishing is Sinking African Livelihoods
How Asymmetrical Trade Between Europe and Africa Fuels Irregular Migration
Irregular migration from Africa to Europe is frequently framed in European political discourse as a crisis of border security or a consequence of domestic governance failures within African states. While political instability, demographic shifts, and climate change undoubtedly contribute to human mobility, a critical yet often overlooked driver lies in the structural asymmetries of international trade. Far from being an isolated phenomenon, irregular migration is deeply rooted in historical and contemporary trade practices between the European Union (EU) and African nations. By dismantling protective tariffs, flooding local markets with subsidised goods, and restricting African value-added exports, asymmetrical trade agreements systematically erode local livelihoods—creating the very economic desperation that compels thousands to risk their lives crossing the Mediterranean.
A Special Moment
We were having lunch somewhere in Kenya and these two lovely kids came to join us, brother and sister Abigail and Collins. It was a joy shar...
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I received an email today from someone who calls herself Kathy Lagoli. Her email address is kathylagoli@thingdiamond.com. The wording of the...
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I cannot but be proud that my roots are in Nigeria, a country of about 150 million people. Of course in modern times there are those aspects...
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Author's Note: The idea behind this story is to provoke, and to be thought-provoking at the same time. The story is based on real even...











