Samuel Asamoah
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Here's your bio, condensed to 240 characters:"Storyteller of the Heart. Confession stories of hope & resilience. Sanctuary for the broken-hearted. Empathetic, creative & honest narratives."
Stories (8)
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The Three Secret Of Wealth:Get It, Keep It, and Grow It
When it comes to building wealth, the advice often feels overwhelming. You’re told to invest here, save there, and cut costs everywhere. But the formula for real financial success is surprisingly simple: you must know how to make money, how to preserve it, and how to multiply it—all tailored to your unique environment.Take Jake, for example. He started with nothing but a dream of financial independence. Growing up in a small town, he learned early on that finding opportunities meant getting creative. Jake’s first step was to find a way to make money. With few job options, he began offering freelance services to local businesses. He taught himself skills that were in demand, from graphic design to basic bookkeeping. Slowly, he started bringing in cash—but he didn’t stop there.Jake realized the second key to wealth was just as important: preserving his earnings. He’d seen people make money, only to lose it quickly on flashy purchases or poor investments. Instead, Jake became almost religious about keeping his expenses low. He set aside his earnings, diligently building a cushion that would allow him to take bigger steps down the road.The final step? Multiplying his money. Jake knew that where he invested would make all the difference. Understanding his local economy, he began buying properties in his town just as it was becoming a trendy spot for newcomers. His money doubled, then tripled, as property values soared. Jake had unlocked the ultimate trio of wealth: he could get money, keep it, and grow it in ways that worked for him.We all live in different environments, and there’s no one-size-fits-all approach. But if you master these three steps with the resources and opportunities available to you, financial freedom might just be closer than you think. What’s your approach to managing wealth? Share your thoughts!
By Samuel Asamoahabout a year ago in Poets
The Real Key To Problem Solving:It's Not About Education Or Exposure
Title:The Real Key to Problem Solving: It’s Not About Education or ExposureSubtitle:Why True Change Comes from Those Who Understand the Problem at Its Core---Article:In today’s world, we often look to people with degrees and extensive backgrounds for answers. It’s a common belief that those with more education or wider exposure hold the solutions to the toughest issues we face. But is it really about credentials? Or could the truth be simpler—and closer to home?Consider Sara, a high school dropout in a small, tight-knit town. She never went to college and hadn’t traveled beyond her state. Yet, she saw her community’s struggle with youth unemployment, addiction, and a lack of opportunity. Sara knew these problems intimately—she’d lived them herself. Rather than accept them as just “the way things are,” she saw potential for change.Sara understood the problem deeply, more than any outsider could. She didn’t have a polished resume or academic accolades. But she had one essential quality: an understanding of her community's needs and the determination to make a difference. She began organizing local workshops for teens to learn skills in carpentry, gardening, and basic tech. With every workshop, another young person found hope, confidence, and a pathway forward.Sara’s story challenges the notion that education or exposure are the most valuable tools for change. The reality is that those closest to the problem, who understand its nuances, often hold the clearest vision for solving it. And with a capacity for action, they become powerful agents of change.Perhaps we need to shift our gaze. Real solutions don’t always come from polished presentations or high-ranking officials. They come from people like Sara—those who understand the pain points deeply and possess the courage to make an impact. The key to change is not about where you’ve been, but what you know at your core and your commitment to bettering it.
By Samuel Asamoahabout a year ago in Fiction
THE VEIL OF HALLOWEEN
The Shadows of HalloweenOctober 31st, and the small town of Willow Creek transformed into a realm of magic and terror. The air was alive with the whispers of ghosts, the creaking of trees, and the distant laughter of children.I walked through the crisp autumn air, surrounded by glowing jack-o'-lanterns and eerie shadows. The moon cast an ominous glow over the town, as if warning of impending doom.As I strolled down Main Street, a chill ran down my spine. The old Victorian houses seemed to loom over me, their windows like empty eyes staring back.Suddenly, I saw her – a ghostly figure in a tattered white dress, floating toward me. Her face was deathly pale, with sunken eyes that seemed to bore into my soul."Trick or treat," she whispered, her voice like the rustling of dry leaves.I tried to run, but my feet felt heavy, as if rooted to the spot.The ghostly figure drew closer, her eyes black as coal."Choose a door," she whispered, pointing to three ancient doors behind her.The doors stood before me, each one representing a different path.Door number one was old and rusty, with cobwebs clinging to its surface.Door number two shone with a golden glow, inviting me to enter.Door number three appeared modern, with a sleek design that seemed out of place.I chose the central door, the golden one.As it creaked open, a warm light spilled out.Inside, a room filled with cobwebs and decay.A voice whispered, "Face your fears."Suddenly, I faced my deepest fears: loss, rejection, and darkness.The room seemed to darken, the shadows closing in.But then, a light flickered.The room transformed into a warm, cozy space filled with loved ones.My heart swelled with joy.I realized that fear was just an illusion.And then, I woke up.It was Halloween morning.I realized it was just a dream.But the memory lingered.Was it just a dream, or a message from beyond?The line between reality and dreams blurred.And I wondered, what lies beyond the shadows of Halloween?Throughout the day, the dream haunted me.As I walked through the town, I noticed strange occurrences.People wore masks, but their eyes seemed to hold secrets.The jack-o'-lanterns grinned mischievously.And the wind whispered eerie tales.As night fell, I returned to my room.The dream still lingered.I decided to explore the town, seeking answers.Main Street was deserted, except for a lone figure.The ghostly woman in white."Welcome," she said. "Tonight, the veil between worlds is thin."She led me to an ancient door."The door you chose," she whispered, "was the door to self-discovery."As I opened the door, a bright light enveloped me.And I saw the truth.Halloween wasn't just a night of terror.It was a night of transformation.A night to confront fears.A night to discover oneself.And as the light faded, I found myself back in bed.The dream had ended.But its message lingered.I realized that Halloween was more than just a holiday.It was a journey into the shadows.A journey of self-discovery.And I knew that I would never see Halloween the same way again.
By Samuel Asamoahabout a year ago in Fiction
The Golden Legacy
The stormy night took everything from me. My husband, John, was taken away in a tragic car accident. I was left alone, shattered, and pregnant with triplet twins.Grief consumed me, and the thought of raising three babies without their father was overwhelming. But I had to be strong for my unborn children.*The Struggle Begins*After giving birth to the triplets, life became a never-ending challenge. Financial struggles, sleepless nights, and the weight of solo parenting took its toll.There were times when I doubted my ability to provide for my children. The fear of failing them was constant.*A Glimmer of Hope*One day, while sorting through John's belongings, I found an old map. It was worn and torn, but something about it sparked hope.Researching the map, I discovered it led to a potential gold mine. It was a long shot, but I had to try.*The Journey*With the triplets in tow, I embarked on a perilous journey to find the gold. We faced countless obstacles: raging rivers, treacherous terrain, and harsh weather.But I refused to give up. For my children, I had to push forward.*The Discovery*After weeks of searching, we finally struck gold. It was a moment of pure elation.The triplets, Emily, Michael, and Sarah, were too young to understand, but they sensed my joy.*Prosperity*With the gold, our lives transformed. We invested wisely, and soon our financial struggles disappeared.The triplets grew, thriving in their new environment. They became smart, kind, and confident.*A New Beginning*Years passed, and I realized that John's passing was not the end. It was a new beginning.The gold became a symbol of resilience and determination.*A Family Legacy*As the triplets grew older, they began to understand the sacrifices I made.They vowed to carry on our family's legacy, using the gold to make a positive impact.*A Tribute*I looked at the triplets, now young adults, and saw John's smile.Tears streamed down my face as I realized that our journey was not in vain.The gold had brought us prosperity, but more importantly, it had brought us closer as a family.
By Samuel Asamoahabout a year ago in Art
BEYOND GOODBYE
I still remember the day my world shattered into a million pieces. The day I lost my beloved friend, Harrietta. We had been inseparable since junior high school, sharing every laughter, every tear, and every secret. Her twin sister, Harriet, and I had formed an unbreakable bond, a trio of friendship that seemed invincible.But life had other plans.When we went to different high schools, the distance felt like an eternity. We promised to stay in touch, but the silence grew thicker with each passing day.That fateful day, I found myself drowning in despair, locked away in my school dormitory. I reached out to my mom, seeking solace in her comforting voice."Alice, I know it's not easy, but take it cool, we are sorry," she said, her words laced with empathy."Who told you I'm not okay?" I asked, confusion etched on my face."I knew it," she replied gently. "Because I know how you loved Harrietta, and she's passed away without saying goodbye."Time froze. The words hung in the air like a guillotine, waiting to drop."No! No! No!" I screamed, collapsing onto the cold floor.My mind refused to accept the reality. Harrietta, with her bright smile and infectious laughter, couldn't be gone.In a haze of grief, I called my mom back, pleading with her to stop the inevitable."Don't take Harrietta to the mortuary! She can't be gone!"But it was too late.The next three days blurred into a coma-induced haze. When I awoke in the hospital, the pain hit me like a tidal wave.Harrietta's presence still lingered, haunting my dreams. We shared meals, laughed, and reminisced about old times. But every morning, I woke up to the cruel reality – she was gone.Those dreams became my sanctuary, my escape from the agony.In one dream, we sat together, the three of us, sharing stories and secrets like old times. Harrietta's eyes sparkled, and her smile radiated warmth.But when I woke up, the silence screamed her absence.Losing Harrietta felt like losing a part of myself. The memories we forged, the inside jokes, the late-night conversations – all echoes of a friendship that would never be again.Tears streamed down my face as I gazed at our old photos.Why did you have to leave so soon, Harrietta?The question echoed through my mind like a mantra.As I navigated the labyrinth of grief, I realized that Harrietta's legacy lived on.In my heart, our friendship remained unbroken.And in those dreams, she'd always be there, smiling, laughing, and reminding me that even in death, love never dies.Days passed, and I visited Harrietta's graveside often. Her elderly sister, Harriet, would join me, sharing stories and tears.One evening, Harriet grasped my hand tightly."Alice, promise me you won't let this go," Harriet whispered, her voice trembling. "If someone...if someone had a hand in her passing, you must find out."I nodded, though my mind reeled in shock."We'll get through this together," I assured Harriet, my voice cracking.But Harriet's words ignited a spark within me. Could it be true? Could Harrietta's death be more than just fate?Determined to uncover the truth, I began asking questions.The investigation led me down a dark path, filled with twists and turns. Each revelation sliced through my soul like a dagger.One evening, as I pored over old records and interviews, Harriet sat beside me."Alice, I remember the day Harrietta confided in me," Harriet said, her voice barely above a whisper. "She feared someone was watching her."My heart skipped a beat."Who?" I pressed.Harriet's eyes clouded."She didn't say. But Alice, I know my sister. She wasn't one to imagine things."The room seemed to shrink, suffocating me.I knew then that I had to dig deeper.The search for answers consumed me, driving me to the edge of sanity.But with each step closer to the truth, I felt Harrietta's presence around me.Guiding me.Protecting me.And in the end, it was Harrietta's own words that unraveled the mystery:"Alice, I'll always be with you."Those words became my mantra, fueling my quest for justice.For Harrietta.For our friendship.For the truth.
By Samuel Asamoahabout a year ago in Fiction
LITTLE CHAMPION
Three-year-old Jack sat at the starting line, his eyes fixed intently on the finish line. His father, a seasoned runner, had brought him to the track to teach him the basics. Jack's chubby little legs wobbled with excitement as he prepared to take off."Ready, set, go!" his father shouted.Jack sprinted forward, his tiny feet pounding the track. The wind rushed through his curly brown hair as he giggled with glee.Suddenly, Jack's attention shifted from the finish line to a butterfly fluttering nearby. He veered off course, chasing after the colorful insect."Jack, focus!" his father called out, laughing.But Jack was too captivated by the butterfly's dance. He followed it around the track, completely forgetting about the finish line.As they finished their "race," Jack's father scooped him up in a warm hug."You may not have crossed the finish line first, kiddo," he said, "but you won something even more important.""What's that?" Jack asked, curiosity sparkling in his eyes."You discovered the joy of exploring," his father replied. "Sometimes, it's not about reaching the finish line but about what you discover along the way."Jack's face lit up with understanding.Over the next few weeks, Jack returned to the track with his father. Each time, he'd start strong, only to be distracted by something new – a bird soaring overhead, a leaf rustling in the breeze, or a fellow runner's smile.His father never pushed him to focus solely on the finish line. Instead, they explored the track together, discovering hidden wonders.One day, as they strolled around the track, Jack's father pointed to a small, weathered plaque."See that, Jack?" he asked. "It's a quote from a famous runner: 'The real contest is always between what you are and what you could become.'"Jack's eyes widened as he read the words."What does it mean?" he asked."It means that the finish line is just the beginning," his father explained. "The real challenge is becoming the best version of yourself."Jack nodded thoughtfully.As the months passed, Jack's love for running grew. He still chased butterflies and explored the track, but he also began to understand the value of perseverance and self-improvement.One afternoon, as they prepared to leave the track, Jack turned to his father with a determined look."Daddy, I want to run across the finish line," he said.His father smiled."Let's do it, kiddo."This time, Jack focused on the finish line. His little legs pumped furiously as he sprinted toward the end.As he crossed the line, Jack beamed with pride."I did it!" he shouted.His father swept him up in a hug."You sure did, Jack," he said. "But remember, the real victory is beyond the finish line. It's in the journey, the growth, and the joy you find along the way."Jack grinned, already knowing that.From that day forward, Jack continued to run, always keeping in mind the lessons he learned beyond the finish line.Years later, as Jack stood at the starting line of his first marathon, he recalled his father's words.The real contest is always between what you are and what you could become.With a deep breath, Jack took off, ready to face the challenges ahead, knowing that the finish line was just the beginning.The crowd cheered as Jack crossed the finish line, his arms raised in triumph. Tears of pride streamed down his face as he hugged his father, now gray-haired but still beaming with pride."I did it, Dad," Jack said, his voice choked with emotion.His father smiled."You've always been a champion, Jack," he said. "Not just because you crossed the finish line, but because of the person you've become."As they walked away from the finish line, Jack realized that his journey had only just begun. The real victory lay beyond the finish line, in the lessons he'd continue to learn, the growth he'd experience, and the joy he'd find along the way.
By Samuel Asamoahabout a year ago in Fiction
Forever reborn
Lena's eyes still held the sparkle of yesterday's laughter, her smile lingering like the warmth of a summer breeze. But as she stood frozen in the doorway, her world crumbled. Before she lay the shattered remains of their forever.The memories they'd woven, thread by tender thread, now taunted her. Echoes of whispered promises, stolen glances, and soft caresses haunted every corner of their once-shared sanctuary. The scent of his cologne lingered, a ghostly reminder of what could never be again.Their love story had been a masterpiece of serendipity, a symphony of chance encounters and whimsical adventures. They'd danced under starry skies, shared midnight conversations, and explored hidden treasures. Together, they'd created a universe where love reigned supreme.But now, the silence was deafening.Lena's gaze fell upon the space beside her, where his presence once filled every molecule of air. The ache within her swelled, threatening to consume her entire being. She felt the weight of his absence like an anchor dropped into the depths of her soul.How could he leave?Didn't their love mean anything?The questions swirled a maelstrom of confusion and anguish. Lena's legs buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor, surrounded by the remnants of their life. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched a faded photograph, their smiling faces now a cruel mockery.In the days that followed, Lena's world narrowed to a singular focus: survival. Each breath felt like a battle, every heartbeat a reminder of what she'd lost. Sleep eluded her, and when it did come, nightmares stalked her, echoes of their final argument still ringing in her mind."Why are you leaving?" she'd begged."I need space," he'd replied, his eyes already distant.Space.The word cut deeper than any knife.Lena's friends and family rallied around her, offering words of comfort and solace. But their kindness only highlighted the void within her. She felt like a shadow of her former self, a fragile, fractured thing.As weeks turned into months, Lena's grief began to transform. Anger and sadness still lingered, but determination started to simmer beneath the surface. She realized that she couldn't stay suspended in this limbo, trapped in the quicksand of heartbreak.With newfound resolve, Lena began to rebuild. She rediscovered her passion for painting, letting colors bleed onto canvas as she poured out her emotions. The strokes were bold, chaotic, and beautiful—just like her.She started taking long walks, embracing the solitude, and finding solace in nature's silence. The world, once a vibrant tapestry, slowly regained its hues.Lena's journal became her confidant, a sanctuary where she unleashed her thoughts, fears, and dreams. The words flowed, a cathartic release:"I thought our love was forever. But forever is a lie. Yet, in the ruins of our relationship, I'm finding pieces of myself. I'm learning to love again—not him, but me."As she wrote, Lena began to understand that losing love didn't mean losing herself. The experience, though excruciating, had forged her into something stronger, more resilient.One morning, as sunlight streamed through her window, Lena smiled. It was a fragile, hesitant smile, but it was hers. She felt the weight of her newfound strength, like wings unfolding within her.Their forever might have unraveled, but hers was just beginning.With every step, Lena reclaimed her identity, her voice, and her heart. Though scars remained, they told a story of survival, of rising from the ashes.And when she looked up at the sky, Lena knew that forever was still possible—but this time, it would be on her terms.
By Samuel Asamoahabout a year ago in Humans
The Unbreakable Bond
In the quaint village of Akwamu, nestled in the heart of Ghana, a young couple, Kojo Shino and Efya Odo, built their life together. Their love story, however, was not without its challenges.Kojo, born and raised in Akwamu, was known for his kind heart and strong work ethic. Efya, from a prominent family, was beautiful, intelligent, and strong-willed. Their paths crossed at the village market, where Kojo sold fresh produce from his family's farm. Efya, immediately drawn to Kojo's charming smile, bought a basket of juicy tomatoes. As they exchanged pleasantries, Kojo's eyes locked onto hers, and he knew he'd found his soulmate.Efya's family, however, disapproved of Kojo's humble background. They saw him as unworthy of their daughter's love. Efya's mother, Mama Adwoa, was particularly vocal in her disdain. "He's not good enough for our family," she'd say.The young couple faced numerous challenges. Efya's family made Kojo feel unwelcome in their home. They'd criticize his every move, making him doubt his self-worth. Efya, caught between her love for Kojo and family loyalty, struggled to navigate the situation.One fateful evening, Kojo returned home from a long day of farming to find Efya's family waiting for him. Mama Adwoa confronted him, "Kojo, you'll never be able to provide for our daughter. Leave her alone!" Kojo, heartbroken but determined, replied, "I may not have wealth, but I have love and a willingness to work hard for Efya."Despite the hardships, Efya stood by her husband. They found solace in each other's company and in their faith. Their love continued to flourish, and they were blessed with two beautiful children, Ama and Kofi.Years passed, and Kojo's friend, Kwame Nyanor, returned to Akwamu after seeking his fortune abroad. Kwame had established a thriving business and wanted to give back to his community. He built a factory, supplying farmers with essential resources – free of charge.As Kwame's factory flourished, Kojo's reputation as a hardworking and kind-hearted individual spread throughout the village. Efya's family, witnessing Kojo's resilience and dedication, began to see him in a new light.One fateful day, Efya's family gathered to discuss their past treatment of Kojo. Mama Adwoa, filled with remorse, acknowledged their mistakes. "We were blind to Kojo's goodness," she said. "We wronged him, and it's time to make amends."The family decided to approach Kojo, seeking forgiveness for their past wrongdoings. Kojo, taken aback by their sincerity, accepted their apology. The village came together to celebrate the power of forgiveness, and Kojo's journey to redemption.Efya's brother, Kofi Odo, who had once been Kojo's harshest critic, approached him with tears in his eyes. "Kojo, I was wrong to doubt you. You've proven yourself to be an amazing husband and father. Forgive me, brother." Kojo, moved by Kofi's words, hugged him tightly. "We're family, Kofi. No need for forgiveness. We're starting anew."Today, Kojo and Efya's village house, once a symbol of strife, stands as a beacon of hope and reconciliation. Their love story inspires generations, reminding us that forgiveness and redemption are always possible.As the sun sets over Akwamu, Kojo and Efya sit on their porch, holding hands. Their children play in the yard, laughing and carefree. Kojo looks at Efya, his eyes filled with gratitude. "My love, we've come a long way. Through every storm, you've been my shelter." Efya smiles, her eyes shining with tears. "Forever and always, my love."
By Samuel Asamoahabout a year ago in Confessions
