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Shimbo Pastory This article was published in The Citizen Newspaper on 12th October, 2021. As the world markets ‘solutions to problems,’ several ways have been devised to make people customers as they develop a feeling that they dearly need such solutions. While those who experience problems are in the daily struggle to get them solved, those who don’t have them are daily drawn by disguised baits to claim such problems. In the course of learning, one is gradually swallowed with a feeling that he or she might have that problem or is at a very high risk of getting it.…

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On the 11th of September every year the world celebrates the International First Aid day. This day allows a chance to examine the international and local uptake, growth and prospects in the field of Emergency Care and First aid. Though the concept ‘first aid’ is a familiar one, its content is indubitably not sufficiently known.

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Shimbo Pastory This poem was published by Kalahari Review on 24th August, 2021 Mh! The irony of joysHorse riders rest on their hoppingIn sunny days and cloudy nights.Resting is the man within,Heedless the tumults,The irony of joys. Oh! The irony of joysTo lowly menVeils of light wake and die in their sleepBut wealthy workmen,Float amidst fears and fatigue,The irony of joys. Well, the irony of joysRest is a string of healthOne of the choral fivesLovely for the guitar of life,Jubilant its song, of wellness,Wholeness! This irony of joys.

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The purpose of undertaking this course was to deepen my knowledge in journalistic and media ethics. The vulnerability of journalists and the data they deal with is so massive, hence the need to know the ethics that mark the margins in those matters. The course was offered by the University of Amsterdam through the Coursera learning platform. Verification link: https://www.coursera.org/account/accomplishments/verify/L322DRD7SJM6?utm_source=link&utm_medium=certificate&utm_content=cert_image&utm_campaign=pdf_header_button&utm_product=course

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Shimbo Pastory This poem was published in the U-Rights Magazine, Issue 2, April 2020 We travel far in the spaces and we return to timeWe read the infinite skies and draw maps over roadsWe may touch hearts, or hit, or hurt, or runEyes peek atop the left wrist in recurrent bewildermentThe haste is pressing, to pick to the volatile moods of fate The wrist covers the eyes to liven frightened blinksPresuming that time’s distressing marathon will soon ease. Time takes us places and brings us back homeWe are never freed from the chains we madeThe hurt over the wounds we…

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