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Posted: Jan 1, 2014 1:32pm
Dec 29, 2013

From Mother Admits Repeatedly Kicking Boy Who Died:

By Sky News US Team
A New Mexico mother is facing child abuse charges after admitting to police that she kicked her nine-year-old son who later died.
The woman initially reported that the boy hit his head after falling from a toy horse.
Officer Simon Drobik said police were called to a home in the city's northeast heights on Friday night after getting a 911 call from the mother, 38-year-old Synthia Varela-Casaus.
She first told police that the nine-year-old was arguing with her three-year-old while playing on the toy horse when he hit his head, Albuquerque Police Department spokesman Daren DeAguero said.
The mother said she tried to help him and put him in the shower to try to make him more alert, but he was unconscious when police arrived,he said.
The boy was pronounced dead at the hospital.
Medical personnel found multiple injuries on the boy's body and the mother later told detectives she kicked the boy in the stomach during an argument, causing him to hit his head, Officer Drobik said.
The mother told detectives she had repeatedly kicked the boy while he was on the floor.
Is this for real
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Posted: Dec 29, 2013 10:36pm
Mar 8, 2012

Someone asked me, “Youre a whitey why do you go for Ubuntubags and placemats?”

The answer is simple, I consider myself an African. I was born in Africa, I grew up in Africa I have lived my whole life in Africa, in fact I have never been out of Africa. I love Africa, I love the vibrant African Spirit. I could go on verbatim on the meaning of Ubuntu and still not come anywhere close to the meaning as given by Nelson Mandela on you tube 

In South Africa, there are two distinct disadvantage groups, the previous and present : Majority of the previous disadvantaged are still disadvantaged, the major difference is their ranks have been swelled by the present disadvantaged. Frankly poverty doesent distinguish between past and present it affects everybody the same. Everyday I am faced with pleas for help, I am in the same position they are in, so I could shrug my shoulders and walk away with an attitude I have nothing so I cant do anything; or I can take the stand which I have, an attitude of gratitude. I have been blessed with talents, one of them is sewing. I believe we are blessed to be a blessing to others, not to horde it all to ourselves, if through Ubuntu Bags and Placemats I can create work oppurtunities for others, then I would have achieved what I set out to do.


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Posted: Mar 8, 2012 11:27am
May 17, 2009

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Posted: May 17, 2009 11:56pm
May 5, 2009

According to the National Institute For Literacy, 113 million children around the world have no access to primary education. This number continues to grow. All too often I take for granted the gift of reading and writing, (though I might question the gift of writing.) I forget there are millions who can’t even read. I was rudely reminded of this fact when standing in the queue at the Port Shepstone post office. There was a black woman about my age already being helped at the counter, the post office worker was reading a letter to her, helping with the filling in of forms, and when the woman signed, she pressed her thumb onto an ink pad pressed hard on the form, then gave it back. Most of us sign our names several times a day without giving it a second thought.

Though sterling work is being done in the bigger centers, the averages for learners completing the courses are low. Courses need to be tailored to for students to experience the benefits from the outset, and not focused on getting them diplomas. Practical application in their daily lives, presented in an exciting and fun manner. Reaching people in remote rural areas is where the challenge lies. It is here where children often walk hours to get to school. It is also here where there are children looking after children. It is also here where we want to make a difference, a meaningful difference.

Dalenco is proud to launch a poetry competition. This is not a vanity publishing competition. It is a straight forward competition with a first prize of $500.00 (U, second prize $250.00 (U third prize $125.00(U. The competition is being launched to raise funds for two projects we are passionate about.

Literacy and vulnerable children in communities.

The competition has a reading fee of $15.00 for three poems.
Use the paypal button to your right.

Poems can be submitted to
Click Here

Closing Date 15th June 2009

Your support helps to support this section of the community; we would like to thank you for your support!

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Posted: May 5, 2009 4:45am
May 2, 2009

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Posted: May 2, 2009 6:44am
Feb 4, 2008
Taking dreams off the shelf,
wiping off the settled dust
repairing wounded parts of myself;
disillusion baking a hard crust;
an armour of protection,
sealing blocking my trust.
Looking at old stillborn dreams,
scars not only renewing pain,
also the zest of lifestreams
the vibrance of being born again
releasing pent up inner screams
numbed by shackled restrain.
Marking off different stages
pivotal points clear and stark,
some clouded by varying ages,
others half forgotten in the dark,
a few scribbled on a page,
delicately folded into a bookmark.
From brimming bubbling success,
to stumbling bumbling tripping failure,
all parts are more or less
that which helps me to endure,
when all seems a random mess
in a discordant overture.

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Posted: Feb 4, 2008 3:16pm
Dec 21, 2007

There are unknown paths to explore,
undiscovered hidden thoughts to analyse,
to show me ways to love you more,
to get me to stop and realise
for our love to sail the storms,
come through them stronger
cant or wont be found in prescribed forms,
or the obsession to conquer.

Maybe I could try to make a start,
by learning to listen,
to words whispered from the heart,
or wipe your tears that glisten;
place your needs above mine,
discover your one secret desire,
nurture your talent for it to shine
a bright beacon of hope amidst the mire.

Show my love through my actions,
and stop trying to remould;
and destroying what was the attraction,
rather allow that truth to unfold,
by being close to you in laughter and tears,
not allowing us to become strangers,
by embracing my own fears,
and illusions of unreal dangers.

All said and done,
words strung together,
there are still only three
which I can say,
and they don't say it all.


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Posted: Dec 21, 2007 1:00pm
Dec 9, 2007
This poem is dedicated to "Highway Ministry" - a ministry directed at the trucking industry. Highway ministry is a non-profit organization providing support services, dealing with problems such as alcohol, drug abuse, AIDS/HIV, marital discord and prostitution, to mention a few, as well as a "Highway Prayer Patrol."

If you are going somewhere,
along these roads we share,
to be safe enough to get there,
start the journey in prayer;
and along the way show you care,
by stopping now and then to share.

As we travel be it on the busy highways,
or off the beaten track along quiet byways;
or wherever our hearts yearn to stray,
or when our tempers start to fray;
and the horison appears bleak and grey,
lets take time to stop and pray.

When 'tis time to return home,
digital memories of where we roamed;
of the endless beaches we combed,
of things lost and found in swirling foam;
from crashing waves washing away sand domes,
it will still be great to get back home.

For those kneeling in prayer every hour,
standing steadfast in their watchtowers;
through the darkened storm showers,
praying for us to have the inner power
and guidance to be empowered;
not to become an accidental statistic for that hour.

Please visit

And see the work that is being done by "Highway Ministry'
and how you can make a difference.

Thanks Stan.

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Posted: Dec 9, 2007 3:34am
Dec 4, 2007

"There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures."
William Shakespeare

Amidst the idyllic isles,
from whence they will begin informing,
of the drastic changing lifestyles,
with the effect of global warming.
In this panoramic tranquil setting,
set on a path to paradise lost,
it would be to easy to start forgetting,
of bridges needed to be crossed;
that the effects of global warming,
like a cancer silently eroded,
its far reaching tentacles started forming,
the ground for the isles to be unloaded,
a second Atlantis about to be born;
Ordained seasons breaking from traditions,
shall all be lost before we mourn,
we could have halted the emissions.
Rain has formed mighty canyons,
with the power of one drop at a time,
so too can millions of companions;
standing as one reach the sublime.
If you care for the ground,
which you are standing upon.
If you want your voice to resound,
and help carry the baton.
Sign the AVAAZ petition,
help stop the emission.

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Posted: Dec 4, 2007 1:08pm


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Frederick Stanley
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