Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in History.
Cults of Gods: Poseidon, God of the Sea and...Horses?
Modern sources often present Poseidon as a one-sided god of the sea. But that is only part of his vast domain. Beyond the waves, Poseidon ruled forces that had little to do with water such as earthquakes and horses. This makes him one of the most complex figures of the Greek pantheon.
By Alex Smith11 months ago in History
Origins of the fallen ones the annunaki(chitauris)
African people, at least those within Southern Africa are the initiates of Antu. We do not believe that the creatures that rule and abduct us are extraterrestrial. We believe that they are children of the serpent in the metaphysical world within earth who were created long before humans were created. They made God angry by practicing very bad magic, harming nature for power and control. They then ran away from earth to certain stars such as “Iso lenkanyamba- the eye of the dragon”. This star is in the same constellation that white people call the Draco. Some found refuge in the muhambi constellation (walking giant) which white people refer to as Orion. After our creation, these rascals returned to mess us up through spiritual enslavement. They found us in harmony with nature through the spark of life- ikqangi lemvelo. We were without language, but were telepathically conversational with all nature. We had no sight of the stars because of the mist that hovered over us. For this reason, we looked to the earth for all our answers and treated it with the utmost respect as it was part of us. They gave us fire (ilanga elibi); putting feelings in our hearts that made us insecure, jealous, power-hungry, lustful, gluttonous and very destructive against our mother earth who is our mother. We knew no self, we had no “I”. It is believed that over time, these early creatures removed the mist from the skies opening our sight to the stars, moon, and sun. We began to long for the stars, ignoring the earth and mistreating it, with the aim of wanting to get up there. These draconians destroyed our telepathic powers through language because we no longer could hear through visions and dreams (inkqangi lemvelo). A language divided us and made us very quarrelsome amongst ourselves. These whisperers of the dark law, the jealous ones, disconnected us from our spiritual abilities and related identity. During initiation, one of the most fundamental steps is ukuvuma ukufa (to die in the self/ego). This step in some cultures involves walking on fire to marry being uncomfortable physically in order that you never hear the whispers of the jealous ones and their dark law who trap us through ambition, pride, and illusionary realities that remove us from our purest and truest selves- from which our abilities reside. Ambition was instilled in us in order that our thought drives a process of consuming the earth and in turn destroying it and ourselves. Africa is dying and our people are enslaved in this darkness because they forgot their truest identities. Many of the tribes that were custodians of our truth have been destroyed and deliberately wiped out. Where we were the breadbasket of the world, we have become the beggars because we birthed ambition and lost mother earth. We are a continent that can no longer feed itself. These draconian children (Chitauri) created a dependency through scarcity. They create wars and systems of mental enslavement that detach us from our truest selves. They are the crossbreeds between the human race and reptiles, having created a hybrid royal bloodline over others. They are now initiated into our family realities because we do not understand ourselves as children of the soil. Our people are enslaved by ambition and the idea of royalty and reaching it that they don't understand that there is no royal blood. All blood is life, sacred and was never meant to be spilled unnecessarily- even that of animals. all of it is life, it hosts the spark of life that connects all life into its oneness. For example, the tree exhales life to sustain us as we exhale its much-needed breath of carbon dioxide. Reptile humans (the chitauri) have conditioned our people into cold-blooded behavior that suppresses the warmth and the breath of life. They have desensitized our people into initiating their methods as cultural and or religious practices. These draconian continue to find methods to lead our people away from themselves. They can shapeshift themselves into humans and at times introduce themselves as ancestors to lure us into the bondage of illusion. They shape themselves according to what you believe in and they whisper technologies, sciences, and strategies that are from the dark law and in modern times ambition has clouded discernment. Dark Pride imposed by the chitauri is harming families that are already in harm's way. For years our people have been kidnapped by mantindani (the tormentors, the torturers). The victims often come from ancient tribes of noblemen and women- amaCamagu. The mantindani are servants of the chitauri. Our people must accept that we are not alone in this world and we should pay attention and be able to discern against the workings of the chitauri. Why is Africa being murdered and by whom? How are we used as people to further the chitauri’s aims? Sources are from the great man Credo Mutwa
By Yanda Mbali11 months ago in History
Stanislav Kondrashov Oligarch Series: Medieval Oligarchic Systems
The analyses in the Stanislav Kondrashov Oligarch Series explore the original meaning of oligarchy and its many modern ramifications, seeking to offer a comprehensive and exhaustive overview of the different interpretations of oligarchy developed by various disciplines.
By Stanislav Kondrashov11 months ago in History
The Forgotten Fields: Part V – Soccer
I. The Sound of the Game Before the scoreboards, before the TV deals and plastic cleats, there was the sound... A sharp thud of a leather ball smacking against a threadbare boot. The metallic ring of a goalpost that was once a pipe from the shipyard. The whistle of wind through chain-link fences. Mud sucking at heels. Steam rising from factory stacks in the distance.
By The Iron Lighthouse11 months ago in History
Cults of Gods: Hera, Goddess of Jealousy?
Alongside Zeus’ numerous antics, Hera’s jealousy and anger are equally famous in Greek mythology. From trying to kill Heracles to pursuing Leto across the world and preventing her from giving birth to Apollon and Artemis, Hera made it adamantly clear that she would not tolerate infidelity, though Zeus would rarely heed to her.
By Alex Smith11 months ago in History
Room 207 – The Haunted Hostel That Taught the Value of Time
🕯️ Room 207 It was the first week of college, and the boys’ hostel was alive with laughter, music, and the chaos that only new beginnings can bring. Among the hundreds of students dragging their suitcases down the long, echoing corridors, Ahmed stood out — quiet, curious, and eager to start fresh. When the warden handed him his room key, he smiled politely. “Room 207,” the warden said. “Top floor, end of the hallway.” Then, almost as if by reflex, he added under his breath, “No one’s lasted there long.” Ahmed raised an eyebrow. “Why?” The warden looked away. “You’ll be fine,” he said curtly and walked off. --- The Room Room 207 was old — older than the rest of the hostel. The paint on the walls peeled in thin strips, the ceiling fan groaned like it carried secrets, and the window rattled every time the wind blew through the courtyard. But it had a good view — the college tower on one side and the football field on the other. Ahmed liked it. That night, he unpacked, played some music, and started arranging his books. Around midnight, when the hostel lights dimmed, he noticed something odd on the wall behind the study desk — faint white chalk marks. He leaned closer. It said: > “Don’t waste your time.” He smiled. “Some senior’s idea of a joke,” he thought, and rubbed it off. --- The Whisper Two nights later, while he was studying for his first quiz, the lights flickered and went out. The whole building fell silent except for the rain tapping against the window. He took out his phone flashlight — and froze. The same message was back on the wall. Fresh. > “Don’t waste your time.” This time, the handwriting looked… different. More deliberate. More recent. Ahmed laughed nervously, trying to shake off the chill creeping up his spine. “Must be one of the guys pulling a prank,” he muttered. But the door was locked from inside. He didn’t sleep much that night. --- The Story of Salman A few days later, Ahmed was chatting with his roommate from next door, Bilal, when he casually mentioned the writing on the wall. Bilal’s face went pale. “You don’t know about that room?” he asked. Ahmed frowned. “What about it?” Bilal looked around, lowered his voice, and said, “There used to be a student named Salman in that room. Brilliant guy. Always top of his class. But during finals last year, he… well, he didn’t make it.” Ahmed stared. “What do you mean?” Bilal sighed. “He pushed himself too hard. Barely slept, barely ate. The night before his last exam, they found him unconscious at his desk. Heart failure. He’d been awake for three nights straight.” He paused. “After that, people said strange things started happening in 207. The message started appearing — the same words Salman used to tell everyone: ‘Don’t waste your time.’” Ahmed didn’t know what to say. He laughed it off, but deep down, the story stayed with him. --- The Change That night, Ahmed sat at his desk again, staring at the blank wall. He whispered, “If you’re still here, Salman, I hear you.” From then on, things were different. He started managing his time better. He woke early, studied with focus, and took breaks when needed. The wall remained blank for weeks — until one night before finals. When Ahmed came back from the library, exhausted, he noticed a faint glow on the wall. The same words had returned: > “Don’t waste your time.” But this time, there was something new below it. > “You’re doing well.” He stood still for a long time, heart pounding — not from fear, but from something else. Gratitude. --- Graduation Day Three years passed. Ahmed became one of the top students in his department. Everyone admired his discipline and calm confidence. When people asked how he managed to stay so consistent, he always smiled and said, > “Someone once reminded me that time is precious.” The day he graduated, he returned to Room 207 one last time. The hostel was quieter now, almost peaceful. He unlocked the door, stepped inside, and looked around. The same peeling paint, the same creaking fan — and the same wall. He picked up a piece of chalk from the desk and wrote carefully beneath the old message: > “Thank you, Salman. Your words changed my life.” Then he placed his graduation cap on the desk, as if leaving a gift for an old friend. --- Years Later Five years later, a new batch of students arrived. One of them, a first-year named Hassan, got assigned to Room 207. The warden hesitated but handed him the key anyway. That night, as Hassan unpacked, he noticed faint words on the wall. > “Don’t waste your time.” He chuckled. “Must be the previous student’s handwriting,” he thought. He turned on some music, sat down to study — and for a brief moment, felt as if someone was sitting beside him, quietly turning the pages of his notebook. From that day, Hassan never procrastinated again. --- The Legacy Room 207 became more than just a room — it became a quiet legend. Students whispered about it in the mess hall, seniors warned juniors not to take it lightly, but those who stayed there always came out changed. Some said they felt a presence that pushed them to do better. Others claimed that whenever they were about to give up, they’d find that same message reappearing — glowing faintly on the wall. > “Don’t waste your time.” No one ever erased it completely. It became a symbol — a reminder that some lessons are too powerful to fade, even with time. --- The Realization One evening, Ahmed returned to campus as a guest lecturer. After his talk, he visited the old hostel, just for nostalgia. The corridors still smelled the same — like damp walls and chai. When he reached the third floor, he paused in front of Room 207. The door was open, light spilling into the hallway. Inside, a student sat studying, unaware of Ahmed standing there. The chalk writing was still visible on the wall — the same words that had once changed his life. Ahmed smiled, whispered softly, > “You kept your promise, Salman.” And as he turned to leave, the fan above creaked — once, gently — as if someone was acknowledging him. Outside, the sun dipped below the horizon, and the hostel lights flickered on, one by one. But in Room 207, the light never really went out. --- ✨ Moral: > Some people leave this world, but their lessons stay alive — written not just on walls, but in the hearts of those who choose to listen.
By Muhammad Daud 11 months ago in History
The Historical and Logical Case for Jesus Christ, the Son of God
The following is not an appeal to blind faith or emotion. It is a reasoned argument grounded in history, logic, and evidence. Whether one accepts the divinity of Jesus Christ or not, the data surrounding His life, death, and resurrection demand an intellectually honest examination. Truth, by nature, does not depend on belief to exist; it simply is.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast11 months ago in History
The Mysterious Death of NFL Star Doug Martin in Oakland Police Custody
A Shocking Morning in Oakland In the early hours of Saturday morning, October 19, 2025, Oakland residents awoke to headlines that seemed surreal. Former NFL running back Doug Martin, a name once synonymous with explosive power and relentless determination on the football field, had died while in the custody of the Oakland Police Department (OPD).
By Lynn Myers11 months ago in History








