Supernovae

Frontend vs Backend ⚽️ Come play, cheer, or help out. Ya’ll pull up, take pics, vlog the day, hang out, and have fun. There are prizes too. Sponsoring? You can sponsor the event on the website. Tag your Telegram channel and it goes on the wall. We need you to make this happen, lol :) Register here - communitymatch-seven.vercel.app Missed it? You might be able to pay at the gate if there’s space. 📍Sun, Nov 8. Addis Ababa (ofc) Venue + Kickoff and more will be announced by Nov 2. Contact us for more (comment below )

Howwwwww I miss video bet (been busy ) soon ... soon inshallah 🤍️️️️️️

Chilll ,yeleginm bro ... fr feta alkubet with friends 👀

We are glowing hereeee (dune effect ig ) 🍁 Anyway ask me anything or /drop somthing abt this channel pls https://sma.et/b/n2jjFJazOBkn

TLDR; even if I’m wearing heels, I’m not feeling being seen. I’m at that short, imagine you.

Guys we made to TikTok https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSgt2UBVF/ 👀 😁…

Lmk if u want one :))

come on. yall making read all of that lol

10 thumbs up for TLDR of this

Postcards from Space, No. 01: Saturn. Eight planets, eight postcards. Next stop: Mars?

Internet 😭👀 ንዴት ሳይደፋኝ ልተኛ መሠል Night :))

ኮቴ I used to be afraid of the sound of my own heels. In big cities, in tall buildings, in long quiet corridors, every step was an announcement: መጣች. Click. Click. Click. I’d walk slower, softer, almost on my toes, as if I could negotiate with the floor. Because sound brings eyes. And eyes bring questions. And the loudest question was always the one in my own head: ሰው ምን ይለኛል? Every morning was a small trial. Standing in front of the mirror, I wasn’t only deciding what to wear. I was asking myself ዛሬስ ማን ልሁን? Should I leave my hair messy and dress እንደነገሩ so my teammates would look at me and think she doesn’t have time for this, she’s too busy with ideas? So they’d take me seriously? So they’d actually listen when I spoke? Or should I wear what I love, try my best to look nice, feel good in my own skin, and risk being seen as someone who cares more about her reflection than her work? And then there was ጸጉሬ, my short afro, which never pretends to be anything else. Some mornings I’d look at it and wonder: does this look serious, or careless? Too bold? Not soft enough? Will they see me, or just my hair? My hair walked into the room before I did. Just like my heels. Two announcements, before I even opened my mouth. So I stood in between. Every single day. Not quite the “serious girl,” not quite the “pretty girl,” always adjusting, always calculating. It’s exhausting in a way nobody sees. You spend your energy on being perceived instead of on being. As if a woman had to choose. As if seriousness had a dress code. The problem was never the messy hair or the nice outfit. The problem was that I wasn’t the one choosing. ሰው ምን ይለኛል was choosing for me. I don’t remember the exact day it stopped. I think it happened ቀስ በቀስ, perhaps it was the meeting where I wore my favorite outfit, heels and all, and explained an idea so clearly that the room went quiet. Nobody looked at my shoes. They looked at the whiteboard. Maybe it was realizing that the people who mattered never listened to me because my hair was messy. They listened because what I said was worth hearing. Or …ደከመኝ. Tired of performing for an audience that wasn’t even paying that much attention. Tired of shrinking my own footsteps. በቃ.bechaaa Whatever it was, one day I walked into a building, heard the click of my heels echo down the hallway, and realized I hadn’t flinched. Now I walk miles in them. Through cities. Through offices. Through rooms full of people I once would have shrunk from. The sound is still there, the same click and the same announcement. My afro is still short, still unapologetic, still walking in before me. But I don’t hear it as a warning anymore. I hear it as mine. የኔ ነው. I’m writing this for the girl standing in front of her mirror right now, asking ሰው ምን ይለኛል? For the one who ties her hair messy only because she’s afraid she won’t be taken seriously otherwise. For the one who wears flats so no one hears her coming. For the one with the short afro who wonders if she’s allowed to be both sharp and soft, both brilliant and beautiful. Mmmm this was never about heels. Wear the heels or wear the flats. Dress up, or dress እንደነገሩ. Keep your hair short, long, wild, soft. None of it makes you more serious or less brilliant. Your mind doesn’t change with your clothes. It never did. The only question that matters is: who is choosing? You, or ሰው ምን ይለኛል? So choose ራስሽን ሆነሽ, as yourself. Because you love it, because it feels like you, because it’s what you want today. And tomorrow, if you want something different, choose that too. Your hair is not an apology….Your clothes are not an argument. And your footsteps, loud or quiet, heels or flats, are not a disturbance. They are your ኮቴ. Let them hear you coming :))

This week's forecast across the solar system. Earth is looking pretty good, honestly.

we love our Rasta era ,wagwan alaykum 🫶🏽😭

ScholarXIV.com October Launch 🥹

The feeling after the coffee hit 🇪🇹

TLDR; a foo is walks in coffee shop and sneezed instead of saying hello world.