Bachelor of Medical Science (Physiology) Bachelor of Medical Science Honours (Microbiology) (Cum laude) Master of Science (Biotechnology) (Cum Laude) Doctor of Philosophy (Medical Immunology), Specializing in Biopolymer Modification and Advanced therapeutics (pending)

Dear women everywhere, Dream bigger than what you've seen. Your background may shape you, but it does not have to limit you. There are places your family has never gone and achievements no one around you has imagined. Go there.

BSc – Biomedical Science MSc – Data Science (Distinction) MSc – Biotechnology (Distinction) PhD – Bioinformatics & Precision Medicine (in view) Cert – Precision Medicine & Cloud Computing (Stanford Medicine) Cert – Artificial Intelligence (Microsoft)

PLEASE SHARE🙏🏾 | Hi, I need help please. My younger brother has gone missing in town today. He has Down syndrome and is 35 years old, but he looks quite small for his age. If anyone has seen him in town today, or sees him, please contact 263 77 236 3700. He is not able to speak clearly, so people may have difficulty understanding him. I have attached a photo of him. He is the one on the extreme right. If possible, please crop the image to show only him and avoid exposing the young girls in the picture, as they are my nieces. I would really appreciate it. This was earlier today in Harare, and he is still wearing the same clothes. Any help provided will be greatly appreciated. @PoliceZimbabwe

Let women be. Let women lead. Let women thrive. Let women speak up. Let women represent. Let women live peacefully. Let women express themselves. Let women control their bodies. Let women live.

Kwakuhle bantu! We are empty nesters, you need to maintain an intimacy btwn each other before the kids fly the nest. If you don't you may realise that you had nothing in common except parenting. It's not even about expense as the simple things are free: walk, coffee 2gether etc

Love in Zimbabwe used to require skills that today’s generation will never understand 😭😂 Dating was basically undercover police work. You had to: *Hide from relatives *Avoid every elder over the age of 35 *Master side-road navigation *Have escape routes in case an aunt spotted you Because being seen holding hands with a girl was enough for some elder to conduct a full investigation: “Ngokabani umntwana lo?” 😭( Whose child is this?) School days were beautiful. Not because of education. Because there was a chance of seeing HER 😭 Our dates? Ah yes, premium romance. A private rocky bush spot, one green apple and a packet of Chimombe fresh milk. Till today I still want to sit down with my younger self and ask: “Son, who convinced you this was luxury dating?” 😭😂 She enjoyed it though. No KFC. No chips. No restaurant. Just calcium and Vitamin C. Everything had military precision because she had to sneak back home before somebody’s aunt became a CCTV camera. Then life happened. Marriage. Children. Work. Bills. Relatives. And somehow our house slowly became a branch of Home Affairs. Every weekend somebody was arriving. No warning. You wake up hearing: “Sivakatshele nje” 😭 Finished. There goes your Saturday. Dates disappeared. We became full-time marriage administrators and part-time husband and wife. Recently I jokingly said: “Maybe we should book a room at a 5-star hotel.” I was joking. I had no money for that. My wife heard: “Emergency romantic operation activated.” 😭 She immediately started discussing clothes, plans and logistics. At that point I realised this joke had entered the construction phase. So I booked it. Now here is the plot twist. I’m behaving exactly like teenage me. Counting down days. Heart racing. Sweet fantasies have taken over my mind. Random smiling. Checking hotel photos every 20 minutes. Today on the phone I told her: Me: “I’m getting the same excitement I had when we were dating.” Her: “Me too. I was even showing off to our daughter on the way to church.” Then she said: “I’m even wondering if we should skip church and just enjoy ourselves.” I almost dropped my phone 😭😂 I said: “If we go, somebody will bring a problem, ask for advice or invite us somewhere.” For once we need peace. “We are going to do Sabbath school at the hotel room” I said.😀😀 Now we’re discussing outfits and places to explore. And I’ve realised: Somewhere between paying bills and solving everybody else’s problems………. we forgot to date each other. Suddenly I’m back in school. Only difference now: I can finally afford more than a green apple and Chimombe 😭😂 And no rocky place to do romance things, with snoopy Lizards and geckos. Premium room with Skyline views🤗🤗 How is your marriage/relationship going? Are you still dating or you have become stagnant like us. Its time to flip the page and live again.

Teach your boy child “ Men are not Polygamous in Nature Teach your boy child that “a Man not cheating isn’t Simp but rare gem Teach him not to seek Validation from DAMAGED Men on social media Teach Your boy child how to handle Rejections Teach your Boy child Consents & No means No Teach your Boy the beauty of staying faithful with one woman Teach your boy child respect towards women Teach Your boy child the gravity of their actions Lastly :Be a Good examples to your boy child because you can tell them all this things but if you’re not leading by examples then you’re a joker. Happy INTERNATIONAL BOY CHILD DAY 🩷.

What's seriously disturbing is the number of men in the comments who are arguing that cheating, moreso impregnating someone is not grounds for divorcing. This culture of normalizing men cheating is disgusting.

A woman who stays with a cheating husband has not “succeeded” in marriage. She has survived it. There is a difference. Women hate cheating. Empty pocket or full pocket. She stays because of the children. Because her people will ask her “what did you do?” Because the church will call her proud. Because she has no money of her own. Because society has built no exit door for her, then turns around and praises her for not leaving. Polygamy in our culture was never about tolerating cheating.

Never confuse loudness, workplace politics and speaking broken site English with actual competence. 😂 Some people dominate sites with noise, confidence and unnecessary radio commentary, until the day substance is finally required. A year and a half ago, I arrived at my current project as a Pipe Fitter. The crew was mostly Filos, a handful of Koreans and a bigger group of Aussies. One Zimbabwean: Me. 😭😂 Straight away, I was the obvious outsider. To make things harder, my leading hands were Filos and many times they would discuss the job in their own language right in front of me. Then suddenly everybody would start moving pipes and fittings with serious urgency while I stood there looking like a tourist at the airport. 😭 Half the time I had to quietly ask afterwards: “Boss, what exactly are we doing?” 😂 I was surviving on half information and full confusion. Now younger me would have reacted emotionally. And once you react emotionally on these sites, nobody cares what pushed you there. You simply become: “The angry African guy.” 😭 So this time I stayed calm. Observed. Listened. Studied the environment. But there was one thing I knew: I’ve spent years building gas plants in Australia. I understand piping. I understand sequencing. I understand construction flow. So while others were comfortable with titles, cliques and acting like shareholders of the company, I quietly started identifying gaps in planning and execution. Then I started offering solutions. Fortunately, the Supervisor listened. To his credit, he openly admitted: “Mate, I’m a Mechanical Fitter. Piping isn’t really my strongest area.” That honesty opened the door for me. From then on, I started soaring like a lone eagle. 🦅 One particular guy who thought he owned the whole LNG industry hated every minute of it. 😂 A few months later management elevated me and gave me my own area to run. That’s my playground. Give me responsibility. Give me decision-making. Give me drawings and a deadline. That’s where I become dangerous. 😎 Ironically, some of the same guys who once made life difficult for me were now allocated under me. Again: Emotional control won the day. Fast forward to today - Sunday 10/05/2026. The Supervisor has now left the project. Now there’s nowhere to hide. No senior guy to lean on. No pretending. Substance is now required daily. 😭😂 And all I can say without exposing too much is: Tazo is kicking goals. 😎 Everybody now comes to me for solutions. Performance review season is also approaching and suddenly people are becoming very humble. Very respectful. Very cooperative. Very obedient. 😭😂 The same people who once treated me like an outsider now approach me carefully like church members approaching the pastor after a sermon. Because plot twist: I’m involved in the performance reviews. 😂 Life is funny. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation: Control your emotions. Stay patient. Keep improving yourself. Even take instructions from pretenders if necessary. Because eventually the day always comes when noise runs out, and substance is required. And when that day comes, you better actually have substance.

You reduce crime by eliminating poverty. You reduce crime with universal healthcare, public housing, livable wages, and free college. You reduce violence by creating happy, healthy communities that aren’t constantly fighting over basic needs and material resources.

This week the paediatric surgeons at Parirenyatwa helped a little patients with cancer in BOTH kidneys. Wilms tumor is one of the commonest cancers in children and usually affects one kidney. Paediatric surgeons, Dr Muparadzi and Dr Moyo led a team of specialists who managed to perform a nephron sparing operation on one kidney and a radical nephrectomy on the other kidney. This highly specialized operation, the first of its kind at Parirenyatwa Hospital, ensures that the child is free from cancer but still has enough normal kidney tissue to be able to survive without requiring dialysis. Although cancer is a devastating diagnosis for any family, with the proper care, children are able to recover and be cured. Hats off to the surgeons, anaesthetists and nursing staff at Parirenyatwa. And thank you to our friends, @KidsOperating for equipping the children's theatre at Parirenyatwa. Lives are being saved in this theatre.

“Helping your wife” is such a strange phrase. If you live in the same house, eat the same food, wear clean clothes from the same laundry, what exactly are you helping with? You are not helping. You are participating in your own life.

The most underrated act of kindness is simply letting people be. Let them mispronounce a word, talk too much about a show they love, or get excited about something you don't quite understand. Everyone has something that lights them up, let them shine, even if it's not your thing.

God blessed me with 2 boys. Both not that academically smart but very talented. So we ran with talent. My older is into farming as you can see him here. He’s gifted, everything he touches thrives. The other is an Artist of course chikwapuro.

For Inuit women, survival has never been just about enduring the Arctic—it has always been about knowledge, skill, and identity carried carefully from one generation to the next. In a place where life depends on precision, Inuit women mastered what others might overlook. They made the clothing that made survival possible, including hand-sewn parkas such as the **amauti**, designed not only for warmth but also to carry children securely against the body. They prepared food with the **ulu**, a crescent-shaped knife perfectly suited to skinning and butchering. And at the heart of the home, they tended the **qulliq**—the seal-oil lamp that provided heat, light, and a steady sense of life. Nothing was incidental. Everything had purpose. Their influence, though, extends beyond survival. Inuit women have long sustained culture through traditions like **Katajjaq** (throat singing), a powerful, rhythmic exchange that builds connection, focus, and endurance. Today, many are also reclaiming **kakiniit**—sacred facial tattoos that mark identity, strength, and important life milestones, practices once suppressed through colonization. Even the act of naming a child carries deep meaning, with the “name-soul” tradition honoring those who came before by carrying forward their spirit and social ties. And Inuit women are not only guardians of the past—they are shaping what comes next. As artists, leaders, and decision-makers, they navigate contemporary life while protecting cultural roots forged in one of the world’s most demanding environments. © Women In Women History #archaeohistories

No church has ever held prayers for low sp€rm count…..it’s only barren women.

Appeal. Lost my wallet containing Zimbabwe ID, UK Driver's license, Bank cards , Santander,Revolut, Starling on Friday evening. I probably dropped it on Hardy Close Vainona, Harare when I jumped out of tgd car to take over the driver's seat after the journey from Njanja Please DM if found . Joseph Hussein is the name on the Zim ID and UK DL. Thank you.

Did anyone in your family ever read Reader's Digest? That little magazine was always around - on the table, in the bathroom, tucked in a drawer. Short stories, jokes, and advice you somehow always read. Who remembers it?