After finishing Senior High School with good grades, I had dreams of going to the university, but I didn’t have the money to continue. So I started working as a hotel receptionist just to survive. Almost everyone I met at the hotel would say the same thing: “You’re very smart. Why are you working here instead of being in school?” It was a question I got tired of answering, but I always said the truth: “I don’t have the money to go to school.” My salary was just enough to take care of my daily needs—food, transport, bills. There was…
Author: town gist
I was at a point in my life where things were really hard. I had a job, but it didn’t pay much because I only had my senior high school certificate. The little money I earned each month went straight into paying rent, transportation, food, and other bills. Most of the time, it wasn’t even enough. I had to stretch every cedi, and sometimes I didn’t even know how I would make it through the month. Asking my family for help wasn’t an option because they were also facing their own struggles. Everyone was just trying to survive. So I…
“You must not know how to read, you black woman,” Judge Thompson mocked, his voice booming across the courtroom. “This is a court, not a zoo for stupid monkeys. I thought you’d at least know how to dress for a trial or is that too much?” Suppressive chuckles rippled through the room. Olivia Jackson stood alone at the defense table her hair in a neat braid, dressed in a modest white blouse and gray skirt. Her hand clutched a cane not from weakness, but principle. She didn’t flinch. “Do you even know why you’re here?” Thompson asked, sneering. “Should I…
A Black soldier, proud in his military uniform, walks through the airport—only to be grabbed, shoved, and accused of stealing. The white cops refuse to check his ID, calling him a liar as they twist his arms behind his back. But just when it seems all hope is lost, karma hits harder than anyone ever expected. Stay tuned. Staff Sergeant Jamal Rivers stepped off the plane at the airport. His Army Service Uniform was spotless, his name embroidered above his chest. He had just returned from an overseas deployment, eager to surprise his mother in Atlanta before heading to his…
When I met them, there were three guys: Martin, Joe, and Laka. Martin was the one who first called me and talked to me. They had just moved to town and were looking to make new friends. I agreed to be friends with them, and we all got along well. Since they lived together, I would visit their place on weekends to help out. They were always kind to me. Whenever they traveled, they brought me gifts, and they gave me money when I needed it—even helped out my parents too. Martin was the one who first reached out, so…
The sun blazes down on a sleek white Lamborghini as it tears down the highway. Victoria Hastings, a young billionaire with sharp blue eyes and an even sharper tongue, presses the accelerator harder. She doesn’t believe in limits—never has. Music blasts through the speakers, her diamond-studded fingers tapping against the wheel. A smirk plays on her lips. But in an instant, everything changes. A truck runs a red light, slamming into her car at full speed. Crunch. Glass shatters. The world spins. The Lamborghini skids across the pavement, flipping twice before crashing into a street pole. Silence. Smoke. Pain. Victoria’s…
The heat on the city pavement was unforgiving—humid, cracked roads, noise, dust, shouts echoing off concrete buildings. But none of that registered to Staff Sergeant Malik Johnson. After two years overseas, the only thing he cared about was getting home. His boots thudded steadily as he walked through the edge of the city, a heavy military backpack still strapped to his back. His camo uniform was stained with sweat and time, but he wore it with pride. A folded photo of a smiling little girl—his daughter—was tucked inside his left chest pocket. That photo had kept him alive through mortars,…
She let a Black homeless boy shower in her bathroom.When he finished—she fainted when she saw. It was the kind of day where the sky itself looked heavy, with clouds swollen and low, as if they were too burdened to hold their grief. Clare Monroe, a 34-year-old interior designer, had just returned home from a long client meeting. Her heels clicked against the polished marble floor of her building lobby, her mind buzzing with deadlines and details. As she opened the tall iron gate to her private courtyard, something caught her eye—near the trash bin beside the guest garage. A…
The mansion was so quiet you could hear the curtains shift in the breeze from the air vents. A 14-bedroom estate, three floors high, wrapped in golden light and silence. It stood like a palace—spotless, perfect, untouchable. But somewhere on the second floor, beyond the velvet walls and crystal sconces, a little girl was screaming. And no one came. Not the chef. Not the groundskeeper. Not even the private tutor or the assistant who usually walked around with a tablet in hand. Because on that particular day, they were all offsite—sent away by Clara, the housekeeper in charge of the…
The mansion was so quiet you could hear the curtains shift in the breeze from the air vents. A 14-bedroom estate, three floors high, wrapped in golden light and silence. It stood like a palace—spotless, perfect, untouchable. But somewhere on the second floor, beyond the velvet walls and crystal sconces, a little girl was screaming. And no one came. Not the chef. Not the groundskeeper. Not even the private tutor or the assistant who usually walked around with a tablet in hand. Because on that particular day, they were all offsite sent away by Clara, the housekeeper in charge of…