#sub-Saharan

[meinradsocien]

Why family ties in Africa has not led to business development

The original title of the article, “Why Tight Family Connections in Sub-Saharan Africa Are Not Leading to Business Capital and Development,” highlights an interesting paradox. While tightly-knit extended families are a cultural norm in many African communities, this social fabric doesn’t always translate into a readily available pool of capital for financing family members’ business ideas. The…

[alabs1]

5G Subscriptions To Hit 150 Million In Sub-Saharan Africa- Report

5G Subscriptions To Hit 150 Million In Sub-Saharan Africa- Report

Fifth Generation (5G) subscriptions have been projected to hit 150 million in sub-Saharan Africa by the end of 2028. There are about seven million subscribers in the region, according to a report by Ericsson, a Swedish multinational telecommunications company. Ericsson presented its projection on Thursday during a webinar organised to discuss its latest 2022 edition of the Mobility Report. The…

[ferritins]

IN A STITCH, IN A PINCH | J. TODD

SUMMARY: you’ve developed something of a friendship with the Outlaws, but you’re not quite sure about what the irascible Red Hood thinks of you.

WARNINGS: graphic description of burn injury, oblique reference to canonical parental drug dependency, reader is a meta.

NOTES: bringing back an old work! Re: the burns treatment depicted here - my area of study was clinical microbiology, not emergency medicine; everything I know about burns is relegated to opportunistic Staphylococcus aureus infection and how Gram negative skin flora influence wound healing. Take none of what you see in this fic as medical advice; if you do have a severe burn, call 999 and get your arse to an A&E ASAP.

After an extraterrestrial incident in your city that ended with something to the tune of 5 and a half million dollars worth of property damage and you knitting Arsenal's torn-open back together in a moment of adrenaline-fuelled insanity, you've developed something of a friendship with the Outlaws.

What that really means is that you periodically come off your shift at the hospital to find 2 mercenaries and an alien princess divesting your fridge of it's contents, and get wheedled into using your meta abilities to heal wounds that would otherwise take them out of play for a good few months.

You're under no illusions. You're aware that a healer is a useful contact to have, that should the situation necessitate it they'll take the few scant inches you can give and run a mile with them.

However, you're also aware that being a meta is a risk and that it pays to be liked and valued by dangerous people.

It's a friendship of convenience, but a friendship nonetheless.

Kori picks you up bodily and spins you in a tight circle until you're giggly and dizzy when confess her favourite shirts of yours are always freshly washed, just in case.

Roy gives you a vulgar wink when you order his shirt off to take a look at where his back scarred over, but faithfully applies the Vitamin E cream you give him for the scarring, trusting you to ease his discomfort, and sneaks bottles of your favourite elderflower cordial and the tins of Zambuk you can never find in the US for you to find when he leaves.

The only one you can't quite puzzle out your relationship with is Jason. He's taciturn, stands watch faithfully as Roy and Kori pull you into friendly hugs and dizzy spins, pepper playful kisses on your cheek and rub their knuckles into your hair. He rolls his eyes at his teammates' antics, huffs through his nose at your fussing.

Sometimes though, he'll call you sweetheart in a low rasp as he bumps you away from the sink to take over doing the dishes.

Sometimes, you think you catch him watching you with something unnameable and warm in his eyes.

You're not expecting your front door to fly open and damn near off the hinges late on Saturday evening — just as you're fresh out of the shower and only just into your pyjama shirt & shorts, might you add — but your alarm and annoyance die on your tongue when you see Roy and Kori's grim faces and the way that Jason sways despite both of their considerable strength holding him up.

You smell the odd, sour-smoke char of burned flesh as they pass you to ease Jason down oh so gently onto your sofa, and your gut goes cold with fear. The burn, once you get his shirt cut open, is not as extensive as you'd feared, but it's still something from a horror scene.

It's a third degree burn, skin mulberry-red, weeping and blistered in a long arc that curls up from his right hip to just under his right pectoral.

"Bloody hell." You breathe, horrified.

You run to your room, digging out your first aid kit, and drop to your knees by the couch as you tear it open.

Roy snorts, bitter as cyanide. "Yeah, that's a fairly accurate summary of the situation, sweets. The only reason he's still alive is because he dodged and got a glancing blow from the energy beam instead of a direct hit."

You look up from Jason's side.

"I'll need you and Kori to get some things." You say, hands shaking at the prospect of the task in front of you. "I can reduce the severity of the burn to a first degree, maybe, but it–"

"What do you need?" Kori snaps, terse. You reel off a list - topical antiseptic, light bandages, a banana bag & an IV kit, amoxicillin - and then look to Roy.

"I need you to get him to take some co-codamol. It'll kick in in about 10 minutes given his enhanced metabolism, but I can't do anything until he's got painkillers in him."

Roy's brows tighten further.

"Jason doesn't do opiates."

"Roy, if this was anybody else he'd be hooked up to IV morphine! If I start working on him without him having painkillers, he'll go into shock which could kill him." You exclaim.

You make low, soothing sounds when Jason tenses at the shouting, only to groan at the fresh wave of agony in his side.

The sound of Jason's pain seems to be decisive enough for Roy, who moves round the couch and grabs the box of effervescent tablets, dissolving two in water and coaxing Jason into drinking it down.

When the glass is empty, Roy is back to his feet, quick as lightning. He strides to the door, shepherding Kori out of your apartment.

"We'll be back with everything you need in half an hour, tops. Please, help him."

Jason comes out of the shrieking adrenaline of agony to the sound of your voice, and a slight cotton fuzz in his head.

Narcotics, then, but a fairly low dose for him to still retain this degree of alertness. Feeling the encroaching spectre of that terrible pain just barely held at bay, finds he's grateful for the medication.

He goes to prop himself up on his elbows, only to strike a line of phosphorus-white flare of pain down his side that has him hissing breath through gritted teeth.

Above him, you make a startled sound, press a hand to his sternum to keep him down. His eyes catch yours, and he sees the relieved sag of your spine and shoulders at the alertness in his eyes.

"Thank fuck you didn't go into shock." You sigh. "Stay still, I've just about got this down to a second degree burn. I've just got your hip."

You snap off your nitrile gloves and lean forward, cupping his face in your hands. "Don't make a habit of this. You'll kill us off with stress if you keep on nearly-dying."

As if on cue, the front door opens and Roy and Kori come into the living room, pharmacy bags clutched tightly in their grips and fragile hope in their eyes.

When they see Jason's alert eyes, the slow knit of skin and sub-dermal tissue and hear his sheepish grumbling in, response to you, their smiles are like sunlight.

Healing the burn is slow going, taking a full five evenings after your shifts.

Roy and Kori are intent on Jason staying the full course of treatment — settled by a, literally, on account of Kori, flaming row when he asks for his helmet and body armour —and though your entreaties are quieter, they're no less insistent.

It serves him right, probably, but it's driving him to distraction.

Specifically, the feeling of your hands over his skin is driving him to distraction.

He's not sure whether it's mercy or the sweetest of torture when you approach him, eyes darting down his body in a way that's half-assessing, half appraising before the heat-shock of your touch makes contact, pieces his skin back together.

(The thing is, Jason's attuned to everything about you, has been ever since you pulled Roy's flayed skin back shut whilst the city was still smoking behind you, totally unafraid in scrub trousers and a hoodie.

He's got it bad, and it's not exactly subtle.

Roy and Kori haven't missed that, or the way he reacts to you, judging by the raised eyebrows and teasing smirks as they lean up against the wall and watch you work.

He hopes the glare he levels at them over the top of your head communicates exactly what he'll do to them if they open their mouths.

It all comes to a head on Monday evening, when you come home from your OR shift, duck into the shower and then come into the living room in a too-large grey t-shirt and deliciously short sleep pants.

Jason's heart stops for a second. He lets his eyes flit despairingly over to Roy and Kori as you prep your kit, watches their unrepentant grins with a burning resentment towards them.

Having you this close to him, worry-soft and lit like a Rembrant from the lamp on the side table without being able to touch you is the closest thing to hell there is. You're close enough that he can smell the overlapping, inoffensive fragrances of your facial skincare products, see the faint pearlescent sheen of the residue of some serum on the apples of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, the soft line of your jaw.

Your nitrile-gloved hand settles gently on the raw new skin just above his hip and he jumps, his own broad hand flying up defensively to catch your wrist and still your movement. It's a mistake he regrets immediately.

The skin of your wrist is still tacky-soft with still-settling moisturiser, hair curling damp where the spray of your shower caught it. Jason's mind spins an unbidden reel of your hands, smoothing lotion over the plush expanse of your thighs, the line of your neck and the gentle swell of your décolletage, the curve of your hip.

He presses his eyes shut tightly.

He feels feral, the hungry bones of him blown open and exposed like the hull of a shipwreck. He wants to worry marks the shape of his mouth into your thighs, your neck, across your collarbones. He wants your knees bracketing his hips, the weight of you on top of him.

God, he wants–

"Are you okay? You're not in too much pain, are you?" He hears you ask.

He knows he's in far too deep when the thought of tasting the way the words roll off your tongue flits across his mind.

"Sorry." He croaks, releasing your hand. "Instinct."

(Roy turns to Kori with a snort, murmuring low so you can't hear.

"He's been watching like he wants to eat them alive since the first time we met and it's a miracle he's got enough blood north of his waistband to be capable of speech, but sure. Instinct.")

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Say Hi to the Spotted Hyena

The spotted hyena is also known, perhaps most famously, as the laughing hyena (Crocuta crocuta). This species once ranged throughout Eurasia, but following the end of the Ice Age was restricted to sub-Saharan Africa. Today they can be found in many types of dry, open habitat, including savannah, semi-desert, and mountain forests. At times, the spotted hyena may also enter urban areas in search of food.

Unlike other hyenas, Crocuta crotuta is a predator, not a scavenger. They most commonly prey on wildebeast, but they may also hunt zebra, gazelles, Cape buffalo, and warthog. In addition, desperate times may cause packs to hunt on more dangerous prey such as young hippopotamus, giraffe, and rhinoceros. Spotted hyenas have incredible endurance, reaching speeds of 60 km/hr (37 mph); a single chase can last over 24 km (14 miles). When live prey is scarce, the laughing hyena can also turn to carrion, as well as snakes and ostrich eggs. In turn, this species may be killed by lions, though this may be motivated more by competition than prey drive.

Spotted hyena females are typically larger than males, weighing 44.5–67.6 kg (98–149 lb) to the males' 40.5–69.2 kg (89.3–153 lb). The height range for both sexes lies between 70–91.5 cm (27.6–36.0 in). In addition, female laughing hyena are somewhat famous for their masculinated genetalia; the clitoris is enlarged, resembling a penis, and is accompanied by sacs filled with fibrous tissue that resemble a scrotum. As the name implies, the coat is light brown with darker spots over most of the body. Because the species has such a wide diet, it has was is considered to be the strongest in relation to size of any mammal. The bite force is stronger than that of a brown bear, and can exert a force of 4,500 newtons-- enough to crush bone.

The laughing hyena is a highly social animal, and individuals live in communities up to 80 strong; size largely depends on prey availability and whether or not the group migrates. A clan territory can be anywhere from 40 km (24 mi) to 1000 (621mi) squared. Females dominate the males, and a pack is usually led by a matriarch. Hierarchies are strictly enforced, and positions are primarily inherited through birth and transferred through death. In addition, one's rank is maintained and recognized through social alliances and their contributions to the clan rather than size or dominance displays. The entirety of the clan comes together most often when defending a territory, gathering at the communal den, or at a kill; however, these kills are more commonly produced from smaller offshoots of the clan.

Crocuta crotuta can breed year-round, though mating is at its peak during the wet season from April to June. Members of both sexes pair indiscriminately with multiple mates, both within their clan and without. To offer himself, the male performs a mating ritual in which he lowers himself to the ground before the female, and retreats if any aggression is shown. Once impregnated, the female carries for about 110 days before giving birth to two cubs-- three is fairly rare. Weaning takes another 14 to 18 months, during which time cubs learn to hunt and defend the clan, as well as establish their place in the social hierarchy. Sootted hyenas reach maturity at about 3 years old, and can live an average of 12 years in the wild, though individuals as old as 25 have been recorded.

Conservation status: The spotted hyena has been determined Least Concern by the IUCN. However, outside protected areas the population is declining due to deforestation and hunting as a nuisance species.

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Photos

Augusto Bila

Elise Pianegonda

Evie Davidian

Art Wolfe

[tinyshe]

Bongo (antelope) - Wikipedia

Bongo (antelope) The bongo ( Tragelaphus eurycerus) is a large, mostly nocturnal, forest -dwelling antelope, native to sub-Saharan Africa. Bongos are characterised by a striking reddish-brown coat, black and white markings, white-yellow stripes, and long slightly spiralled horns

[lgbtqreads]

Fave Five: Queer Fiction with African MCs

For more fiction with Nigerian MCs, click here and here. Lighter by A. Aduma (Kenyan, YA) No One Dies Yet by Kobby Ben Ben (Ghanaian) The Longest Summer by Alexandrine Ogundimu,,And Then He Sang a Lullaby by Ani Kayode, and Blessings by Chukwuebuka Ibeh (Nigerian) These Letters End in Tears by Musih Tedji Xaviere (Cameroonian) The Good Boy by Iris Mwanza (Zambian) Bonus: These are all novels,…

[albertayebisackey]

“Marveling at the strength and grace of the majestic horses on Labadi Beach. Their beauty against the backdrop of the ocean is truly breathtaking.

#LabadiBeach #nature #horsepower #beauty

[caprakinz]

Webkinz Hyena moodborad, based on appearance, PSI and PSF.

Webkinz Hyena, HM670. PSI = Fifteen minutes mic. PSF = Sub-Saharan sandwich.

[rahabs]

Lots of people complaining about The Mummy vs the new Cleopatra documentary but therein lies the issue: Cleopatra is claiming to be a historically accurate documentary, it is claiming to tell the “real” truth and even put out a statement on how Cleopatra’s ethnicity has been long debated (which, among scholars, no it really hasn’t, y’all just keep ignoring us when we say Cleopatra wasn’t black), but now they’re here to tell the real story that Cleopatra was really black and so was everyone in Egypt, especially the ruling class, at a time where they definitely were not as they were being ruled over by the Ptolemaic Greeks, while The Mummy was not claiming any historical accuracy or to be a documentary of real events, and that’s where a lot of the backlash is coming from.

[filletedfennysnake]

they all love me for the way i get a little prosey on the canvas discussion board

[saxafimedianetwork]

The Political Economy Of Connectivity In The Somali Horn Of Africa

New insights into the political economy of connectivity in the #SomaliHoA! Discover how firms in #Somalia & #Somaliland are leveraging digital platforms to control logistics & shape digital capitalism, amidst protracted insecurity & state fragility.

Continue reading The Political Economy Of Connectivity In The Somali Horn Of Africa

[panvani]

I genuinely hate these people so much

[citrus-soda]

I haven't got a clue how much traction "homestar runner" had outside of english-speaking countries but considering how a good chunk of keroro gunso takes place during the early/mid 00's. Ya think keroro would've watched it?

[yurious-george]

posts that will get me hash tag cancelled (maybe) but these sorts of posts are really interesting to me bc i grew up in a heavily muslim country. i know what it means bc it was just part of the vernacular where i was. i am not immune to cultural appropriation, of course, but when does existing adjacent to a culture become part of your culture? I ask myself that question a lot and random little things like this niggle it.

[pokeparkservices]

so you might be wondering, what the heck is a water conservation district and what does it have to do with Castelia??

well strap in because I'm gonna tell you exactly what a water conservation district is AND what it has to do with Castelia AND why you YES YOU should care about it

SO. first of all. if you've ever looked at a map of Unova or been anywhere vaguely in the vicinity of Castelia City any time in the last, uhh, few centuries or so

you might have noticed the GIANT HECKING DESERT between it and the entire rest of the landmass. you know, the one that takes up like a full quarter of the peninsula?

yeah that one.

has it ever struck you as KINDA WEIRD that there's a big fuckoff desert right at the tip of an otherwise VERY GREEN peninsula? smack in between two rivers?

because it KINDA IS. and it's also kinda a problem!

because that desert is very very difficult to be in. or to get across. yeah, they managed to get some construction up along that route, and that definitely makes it easier... for humans

but what about pokemon?

now, don't get me wrong, the desert has been there for hundreds if not THOUSANDS of years and has become an important Pokemon habitat in its own right. nobody's gonna be summoning Kyogre about it or anything (and if anyone tries I will hit you with my rake do not fucking test me). but Castelia has grown dramatically in modern times, and eaten up a lot of what was historically lush seaside habitat for Pokemon that don't like living in deserts. so where did those Pokemon go?

unfortunately, a lot of them just... didn't. the descendants of those pokemon, at least the ones that couldn't make it upriver or across, are just making do with the fringes we've left them, their populations drastically decreased from historical levels. and it's getting worse: big modern cities like Castelia, with lots of pavement and tall buildings made of metal and glass, reflect a LOT of heat, and also take up a LOT of water and resources. if we're not careful, a city like Castelia can make everything around it - those last green fringes - into barren desert.

hey Lennox that's sad and all but what about the water conservation thing

I am SO GLAD YOU ASKED, inquisitive hypothetical reader

bare basics: a conservation district is a local government unit that carries out and oversees resource conservation activities in its jurisdiction. so, the Castelia Water Conservation District is basically the governing body that does stuff to conserve water in Castelia. simple.

as I've said, I work as a groundskeeper for the district. and my specific workplace is actually Extremely Cool and is a place I think everyone in or around Castelia should visit!

the official name is something like Castelia Riparian Preserve at Water Ranch or something like that, but we mostly just call it Castelia Riparian or the Preserve. and what it is, is a water treatment and groundwater recharge facility that doubles as manmade pokemon habitat!

basically, there's a series of lakes that we fill up periodically with reclaimed water. which, well, you wouldn't want to drink the stuff, but the tiny fish and aquatic bugs and plants? they can live in it just fine! and the plants purify it over time! and in turn those tiny plants and things serve as food for wild Pokemon, who also do just fine on this water. and the lakes make it possible for bigger plants, bushes and trees, to grow around them - and THAT makes homes for lots and lots of wild non-desert pokemon, baybeeee! and eventually the water in the lakes rejoins the water cycle by either evaporating into the air or percolating down into the groundwater, and either way that makes for a happier, healthier ecosystem - and once the lakes are empty, well, we've got plenty more to pump right back in!

since this park was established, population numbers for non-desert-adapted Pokemon in the Castelia area have been consistently rising. and it's not just the locals, either - since it gives migratory pokemon passing through the region an extra place to stop off and rest, we've been seeing those numbers rise as well. even better, we've seen a decrease in extreme high temperatures near the preserve, thanks to the natural cooling effect of the lakes and tree cover - even the desert areas immediately nearby the park have been starting to support more greenery and healthy Pokemon populations! if we keep this up, then over enough time, we might be able to significantly reduce the size of the Unovan desert, make the remaining desert area significantly more hospitable both for the Pokemon that live there and other species that have historically lived on the peninsula, and almost totally offset Castelia's adverse impact on the climate!

damn, that DOES sound cool, Lennox!

IT SURE DOES, DOESN'T IT

and you can even come visit and spend the day here! there's walking trails built right into the park and everything! and it's free! you can't beat free!

however, if you do come to visit, be warned: you are NOT allowed to capture or battle pokemon here. no, we don't care if they jumped out at you in the tall grass, you shouldn't have been in the tall grass in the first place. there are trails. you stay on them. enjoy the trees, enjoy the pokemon from afar, and everyone will have a nice chill time.

(okay, yes - we will make an exception if you were in fact minding your own business and a Swanna decided it didn't like your face or something. we can't hold you accountable for some pokemon just being assholes.)