Akate Leo Fundz (2024)

30/01/2022

Hustle in silence and let your success make the noise.❤️

27/01/2022

Beneath the sole of my dead eyes, I clothed my flesh with pain.
I carry with me a burden as heavy as God's.
I cry my tears out, like a zombie the only time I was happy, I was alive.
I know how it feels, to hope for something only for it to disappoint you.
They side-line me even when they say I mean a lot to me.
I know what pain is, I am an expert.
Like steel, the only thing that corrodes me is my mind.
I spent too many silent nights in my mind.
I know how it feels like, to say I love you and you feel like “I love you too” was forced to fall on the edge of their tongue.
My dead eyes tell a story, only those who went through pain will understand how I pushed through the anguish.
I need this loneliness deep inside to stop.
I want to let go of some people for me to be okay.
I need to stop saying I love you because I know every time, they tell me that, I think they are just saying that because they want to make me happy.
I am not happy; I try to be.
Maybe I am too sad to try to be happy.
It’s too sad that I have so much to say yet I am not strong enough to say anything.
I wish I went outside more than to stay in my room with depression.
I know a smile doesn’t last long so I don’t even try.
There are two things that keep me alive
To know that I will be fine and to know that I have a purpose in this life.
I am here even when I hate myself.
I am strong.
But even the strongest warrior falls sometimes
I am broken, even broken toys can serve a purpose.
Today I am 25 years old and sometimes I still wonder why I didn’t kill myself when I was 15 years…🥀😭

21/01/2022

I LIVED TO TELL STORIES OF HOW I LOST MY VIRGINITY PART 3

Mom, I am not yet dead.
I know the sound of a young girl screaming out loud because she's losing her virginity.
I know the whipping sound of a belt as it rattles at the back of a body.
I know the echoes of silent filled in a room where if you look over there, there is a girl in chains chained at the corner of a room
I know the pain of sleeping with pain between your legs.
What hurts is that your next customer might be at the door waiting for his turn.
I have men old enough to be my father,
Telling me that they paid for me so I should do what they want.
They do whatever they want to you even though it's your body
They owe your body. That's what they make you believe.
My story is not yet told.
I am not yet old.
My hands are used to the cold of chains.
My body feels fatigued from the strains of pains.
I drop ink in the shadows of the discomfort of this room.
I know I might not live tomorrow.
Day by day my life is suspended on a cliff and I am hanging on a tread of rope.
I have no hope.
My veins are full of dope.
To make myself numb I use coke.
I miss home.
To my mother with love.
I am still alive without love for a man in my cold heart.
I still remember the night I said I am going to the shop.
I remember a car pulling over and my scream faded in the hands of a man.
I hate men with all that I am left with.
I miss home that it even hurts to cry now.
I have to wear a smiling mask to cheer my next customer.
"Mama Khoffi" doesn't like it when we frown
She says "it's bad for business"
My body is a business that never runs out of stock.
Rainy Days
Stormy days
Cold days
Hot days.
Men come into this compartment to make us do what they want.
I know you are bored by now
I know you are thinking "why didn't she run away"
The story is only boring when you don't relate
I ran away so many times
But if you are shipped to another country.
You end up finding yourself back into the room you found yourself in the day you opened your eyes.
I am used to the smell of this room
I am used to the spits from men who are not happy after we had s*x.
I would like to think about my mother now.
The night is cold and covered with darkness
My mother taught me a prayer. I think that's why I am still alive.
It's midnight now and I know you are on your knees praying that I should come home.
Home is a dream I have every night before I get woken up to a nightmare of this world.
I have too much pain in my body that I even feel like my body is not mine.
I tried to kill myself so many times.
But mother you kept on telling me that I should hold on.
"Hold on, Anna, Hold on, we are coming to get you "
It's been too long mother, when are you coming to get me?
When are you coming to get me?
Come, come before they kill me.
Please come, I can't take it anymore.
I want to be happy again.
I want to wake up with a smile on my face not a pain in my body.
I miss home. Mother. I miss home.
Whenever I think about you all the pain in my body evaporates.
I don't know where I am now.
But if tomorrow I wake up and I am no more.
I tried to find you but you were out of my reach.
I beg them to let me go. But they told me that my work is not done.
I prayed but the girls here told me that prayer won't save me.
It's been long mother and I miss you.
I have a picture of you in my head.
You are in your room praying that I should come back.
Don't lose faith mother.
Maybe one day I will return and be in your arms again
Maybe one day I will return and be your daughter and not someone's a "quench for a thirst"
Mom, I am not yet dead.
If I am dead, at least its better than being r***d every day.

You once asked me about my dreams.
You want to know my dream.
My dream is that
I wish one day all the girls are traffic can return home to their loving parents.

Yours Anna.

(Written on the 21st of December 2021. One month after Anna's body was found dumped in the bush"

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21/01/2022

I LIVE TO TELL STORIES OF HOW I LOST MY VIRGINITY PART 2

Suddenly all the sound of my tears fell heavily on the ground.
In the darkness of my room, vividly a razor seems to shine bright.
I feel better when I see my wrist bleed.
I sleep better when I take sleeping pills.
I laugh harder when my blood is high on w**d.
I feel confident wearing a hoody on the streets.
I am not done.
His is not done.
Wake up, wake up, wake up.
The door shuts, and I wake up from a dream.
I am eighteen now and I know I am not a queen in someone’s dream.
Who can love me?
Who can love a dying thing like me?
When I told my mother. She slapped me and told me that you were a respected man.
All the boys who touched me dug a hole in my va**na and left my emotions cold for anything that looks like a man.
Daddy, when you died, I cursed your grave.
You died and they cried.
I died and they blame me.
Me. Me. Me.
I felt the need to open my va**na for my mother to see that I was r***d by you.
I felt the need to put her in my shoes for her to feel what I went through.
I feel the need to walk on the street and show everyone who looks at me and see a sin that I was r***d and I am not being “dramatic”
I am not asking for any attention. I am in pain.
I just want to feel better and let go of all that I went through.
Posters on the street give me labels.
No one ever asked me how it felt.
The society looks at me and they all see a lonely girl who needs attention.
My mother chose to believe a dead man over a dead talking me.
“The least you can do for your father is to go and put flowers on his tombstone”
I keep asking myself, “Why are they bring you flowers because daddy, you don’t deserve them”
If you went to heaven then heaven is playing ground.
You don’t deserve to be forgiven, Lucifer would rather burn without you.
I hate you. And there is no better caption than that.
Daddy.
Even underground you still rule me.
Even when you are underground you are still able to make me cry like the night it first happened.
I opened up my wounds so that I can heal.
The media shuts my story because r**e is a taboo.
I told the news about what happened to me.
Tomorrow the headline was changed.
“Another girl trying to get money from her dead father”
That’s not true
No one believes me because they were not there.
I am confused, maybe I was not r***d. He was just putting clothes on me.
Maybe he didn’t r**e me. I am just overreacting.
But the pain is always there and it needs to be felt.
Memories are not echoes of silent.
This is the end of me.
There is a war between me and my mother.
I lost my mind to the point where I felt like drugs and razors can make me feel better.
At school. I feel like everyone is talking about me because every time I pass, they laugh.
I walk on the street, and I feel naked because everyone knows my story even though they say it’s a lie.
For as long as I can remember I lived my youth with a sad face.
I was just a little girl.
I am not weak.
He was my father and I trusted him.
I am not weak.
They were my classmates and I thought they wouldn’t do anything to me.
I am not weak.
He was my…
And I trusted him. And look where trust leads me.
Maybe I deserve to be r***d.
Maybe if I walk on the street at night they will r**e me, maybe then they will believe me.
Maybe if I wear a mini skirt I will get r***d and they will believe me even though they will say I asked for it.
Maybe I should get drunk and let all the boys f**k me.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
No one believes me. The boys who r***d me, they say they don’t even know me.
No one believes me.
No one believes the story of a teenage girl who “claims” to have been r***d.
“Rich people don’t r**e,” they say.
“Young girl are you sure that it was your father”
Don’t shout at me, tell me that when I’m here to open a case I will be safe.
Tell me that I am safe.
Tell me. Tell me. Why is it so hard for everyone to see that I am telling the truth?
R**e, I am a beautiful lie and you are the painful truth.
You exist, yet no one wants to talk about you.
“We know girls who claimed to be r***d and when we open a case tomorrow they come and drop the charges, go home and think about it”.
R**e I lived with you for long now.
My mind is getting tired.
The only thing trending about me is that I am lying.
“Rich people don’t r**e” is what I read.
Men are too good to defend each other but woman just cast me aside that includes my mother.
Men don’t like to talk about r**e, because that’s not their problem.
Woman are afraid to talk about r**e because they want to protect.
When you talk about r**e everyone changes because instead of taking off your skirt so that they can see, you telling them about something boring.
I talked about it. And look at me now.
Depression finds me munching off my nails.
My mother is at the door shouting like a madwoman.
I look up to know one because everyone I know betrays me
My story is told. Don’t cry for me.
You don’t know the pain of being r***d until it’s done on you.
R**e is not carried by strangers
R**e is not done by poor people.
I know a rich man who turned me into a woman at the age of three.
In my last stages.
I just want someone to hug me and tell me that everything will be okay.
When my high school teacher listened to my story and told me that everything will be okay
I thought it will be over.
The day I went to him crying and he hugged me and after that, he started touching me
I knew I should not trust anything that looks like a man.
Everyone helps you and they expect something in return.
Dear Sir. You took what they have already taken.
Children at school call me names because no one will believe a “drama” they didn’t watch.
Teachers will show no concern because their jobs are to give you homework and they will expect it first thing in the morning.
For as long as I can remember I was just a sad eighteen-year-old girl who failed her class.
I know why a caged bird cries
I know why a dog chained wishes to run to the other side and break the chain
I know why a donkey keeps pushing even when the pain is unbearable.
I know why it cries after the wagon is removed.
I know why I left this letter before I hanged myself.
“You will be a hero when you die”
To my ra**st, I hope when you get this letter, you will know what you did to me.
To my mother, I hope you will believe me when you see me hanging.
To the children and everyone on the street.
I am not weak. I didn’t want attention. I was not dramatic.
I told my story and I know one of you goes to sleep with the pain that I went through and yet they are afraid to talk.
I live this world, with so much disappointment.
I live no tears on this letter because I know, no one cared and I had cried enough.
I am leaving now
I am leaving now!
When you see me hanging on this roof.
This room is where I died when I was three
This room is where I want to bury me.
When you get the news tomorrow.
Ask yourself how times I have been r***d.
This world has no place for a broken thing like me.
I will leave with all my broken pieces. I hope you will remember me.
I hope. I hope. I hope...🥀😭

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21/01/2022

I LIVED TO TELL STORIES OF HOW I LOST MY VIRGINITY PART 1

She turned me into a business
My lips are dry like the Kalahari Desert
My eyes are wet like an ocean
I am weak, my whole body is wounded
I am dead inside, God, take this promiscuous shell away
Every night I am on the street like a street light
Drugs and nothing but drugs is what I feed my stomach with
I was born in the shadows of poverty
I was always mocked by hunger
Being alive doesn’t mean that the sun is up
Being alive means that there is something in your stomach
My stomach was unoccupied
Water is good for a burning heart
My mother’s world was dark
Swollen feet kept her on a wheelchair
She would cry like a fountain,
One day, God stopped the fountain
My aunt became someone to feed me
My situation climbed a mountain
“Julia, you can’t stay for free,
Julia, you can’t stay for free”
“You are useless”
I was thirteen when
He forced my back on the bed for the first time
He forced himself on me
I watched a helicopter cutting my innocence into pieces
He groaned when I was crying
He lifted his pants with pride when he was done with me
Aunty came in, “don’t worry you will get used to it”
She smiled as if I was a cameraman telling her to say cheese.
When they were done ra**ng me, I would always try to take my skirt down
To remind myself that I am still worth it.
The pain on my va**na cuts deep because the work is not yet done
My lungs are busy lifting weights, exercising for the next man coming
I wipe away the ocean on my eyes and put the smile on
“Your next client must find you happy” as if I enjoy it
Drugs were made easy and we grew up to be numb
By thirteen I was made to believe that I am a woman and my job is to sleep with every man
I was made to believe that the first thing you do when you have s*x with a man is to suck his c**k
I was made to believe that I deserve this
I was made to believe that I am nothing but a speck of dirt, the mirror agreed
I watched birds outside flying and I thought about my freedom
I watched kids on TV, and I forgot how to play
I forgot how to smile and actually mean it
I was put on sale like it’s a black Friday
I pose for their cameras like I am a modeler
My naked skin like the back of a horse, every man wanted to ride on me
I don’t what tomorrow holds
For that young girl who is lost and her parents are worried sick
I don’t know what tomorrow holds
For the girl who thought maybe she will be safe with her
Uncle
Aunty
Or mother and father
I don’t know, I just don’t know
But one thing I know what doesn’t kill you makes you strong.
If they can’t destroy you, they are building you
I was 14 and having a baby
I am 28 and I am telling my child that I don’t know who her father is
She turned me into a business
I survived.

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18/01/2022

It’s late and it’s getting cold.
I just remembered that I need to breathe.
It’s cold and I am getting old.
I tried to fix things but I was too broken to feel anything.
I wish I can go back and say sorry, but it’s late and I am getting cold.

My bones shivers and the cold breeze run down my torso.
I am broken and there is nothing to fix about me
Tears of the sun evaporate
I am the son of the soil,
The sound of my tears like a thunderclap
There is nothing left.
I wish I was young so that I can tell you how hard I tried to be happy.

There is nothing left, my heart is a dessert.
Nothing good is happening here.
I keep walking and walking under the rain of my tears.
My love for you dragged me to my old life
Was it a sad or a happy life?

Sometimes I sit by the river and I would wonder by self
Did you ever love me or you were just passing your sad life to me?
You injected me with pain, living me with words like I hate, I hate you, I hate you…

Why am I doing this to myself?
My heart is heavy
The flames on my head are evaporating
There was too much drama in this relationship
We loved each other but, in the end, I love you means I can’t be with you.

It’s getting late and I am getting cold
To be honest, I was afraid of change because I knew once you change me, you might leave me for someone who looks better than me.

Why did you have to bring us all the way, only for you to leave like this?
I am not angry; I am just frustrated because somehow, I believed in you.

I believed in what we had, now look at me.
Thin like paper,
Hurting like a pain.
Lonely like the moon
Sad like a song.

The most painful thing is to sit down and realized that they used you for everything
Blinded by I love you,
It’s not easy to see the bad things that someone is doing to you when you are in love...
It’s late and it’s getting cold.

I just remembered that I need to breathe.
It’s cold and I am getting old.
I tried to fix things but I was too broken to feel anything.
I wish I can go back and say sorry, but it’s late and I am getting cold.

My bones shivers and the cold breeze run down my torso.
I am broken and there is nothing to fix about me
Tears of the sun, evaporate
I am the son of the soil,
The sound of my tears like a thunderclap
There is nothing left.
I wish I was young so that I can tell you how hard I tried to be happy.

There is nothing left, my heart is a dessert.
Nothing good is happening here.
I keep walking and walking under the rain of my tears.
My love for you dragged me to my old life
Was it a sad or a happy life?

Sometimes I sit by the river and I would wonder by self
Did you ever love me or you were just passing your sad life to me?
You injected me with pain, living me with words as I hate, I hate you, I hate you…

Why am I doing this to myself?
My heart is heavy
The flames on my head are evaporating
There was too much drama in this relationship
We loved each other but, in the end, I love you means I can’t be with you.

It’s getting late and I am getting cold
To be honest, I was afraid of change because I knew once you change me, you might leave me for someone who looks better than me.
Why did you have to bring us all the way, only for you to leave like this?
I am not angry; I am just frustrated because somehow, I believed in you.

I believed in what we had, now look at me.
Thin like paper,
Hurting like a pain.
Lonely like the moon
Sad like a song.
The most painful thing is to sit down and realized that they used you for everything
Blinded by I love you,
It’s not easy to see the bad things that someone is doing to you when you are in love...🥀😭

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20/11/2021

Welcome to Akate Leo Fundz, my very own passion project filled with unique and engaging content. Explore my site and all that I have to offer; perhaps Akate Leo Fundz will ignite your own passions as well. Catch up with all the latest football news, live streaming links, transfer updates, match highlights, comedy, music, entertainment, movies, giveaways, trending topics, savage response, memes, banters, stories, poems, motivational/inspirational quotes, gossip & lots more..

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12/11/2021

I Committed Su***de. ( A short Story )

My first and last thought every day was to die.
I would always wish to close my eyes and never wake up ever again.
I wanted to stop the sadness of my boring life.
I was sick of being invisible to the people I love.
I committed su***de
Because I knew no one will miss me.
My life is a bag of rotten potatoes, no one wants me because I am just a burden.
I found no real motivation to live.
This life is boring and there is nothing inside of it.

People of this world don't care what they do or say to you.
They hurt you and leave you broken like an old car.
I for once knew what is like to feel a human touch.
I was 10 years old when my mother married another man.
He was good for us until one day he lost his job.
Like the clouds in the sky, things changed.
He would sit and do nothing at all.
My mother would get furious at him and ask him to man up.
Up to this last day of my life, I hate the scent of alcohol.
My step-father cursed his life with alcohol.
He would drink
And drink
And drink.

Until his brain couldn't hold him anymore.
I was 10 when my "father" thought of me as a girl
He touched my tighs and tried to kiss me.
I was too young to understand what was going on.
In the dunk of his drunk mind.
He pressed me on the ground and r**e me.
My mother found me lying conscious on the floor
"Father" rushed in acting like he didn't know what happened.
I told my mother what happened but she didn't believe me.
It all started that day
When I came back from school and "father" r***d me.
Men do get r***d too.
But they cry inside so the community knows nothing.
Time doesn't heal
It touches us how to live with pain
Dear pain
I have lived with you rent-free since the age of twelve.
I shrouded my mind with my mother's cries.
When he hit her I could hear her body fall like dominos
The plates would scream with her but her voice sounded to be in more pain.
Tomorrow morning
To my mother
it was just a tear
Just another scream
Just a bruise
Just another "I fell inside the bath"
To my father
It was just another sorry
Just another lie.

Just another excuse
Another "I will never do it again"
When you love someone, even when they hit you you think it's gangsta love.
I lived in a house where my mother and "father" argued all the time.
I would watch them from my room.
My mother now turned to alcohol too.

She doesn't cook sometimes and it's always a war when my father comes back from "piece jobs"
You created the monster she is and now you can't handle her.
At the age of sixteen, I ran away from home.
I lived under the bridge for three months.
Besides the loud traffics, at least I had peace.
The war has stopped and all is well now.
I have found the pleasure I have always seek
All I ever wanted was to be at peace and stop seeing people fight.
I watched them fighting but I was weak to get between them and separate them.
I live my life with regrets.

I walked on the same path my mother and father did.
I committed su***de because I didn't want to be toxic anymore to my children.
If I stayed alive longer I was not going to stop hitting my wife and kids.
My life has been a painful series of terror.
Even on the street at night I could hear my mother scream
I turned to drugs hoping I could stop hearing her cry but once I was sober, she could cry even more.
I was called a crime by the people who didn't understand why I steal.
I stole because I wanted to stop thinking.
One morning I was found on the street cold.
I had relapsed and was taken to hospital.
For the first time after 11 months,
My mother acted as she cared.
She took me back home.
The same house
The same walls.
I could hear her screaming through the cracked walls.
This house is full of broken things.
I knew she was broken too, but she acted like she's okay.
Her face is full of scars.
That night when I got home.
She told me that she's HIV positive and her husband had died from it.
I felt no remorse for her,
All I wanted was to sleep and not be bothered.

In the middle of the night, I remembered how much I love my mother and if I would lose her I will be nothing in this world.
Two months later she died and I was left alone.
After her funeral, my stepfather's brother told me that the house belonged to him now
I didn't want to fight for the house that terrorized me.
I left my mother's house.
I found myself a job at the filling station
In the early days of January 2010, five months before the FIFA world cup I met the woman I will later marry.
We were blessed with two beautiful children.
She was a teacher at a nearby school.
Everything was going so well
We watched the world cup in a happy spirit
Unfortunately, things didn't go well for South Africa.
Oh well, life goes on.
I had finally found peace and joy in my life.
By June 2012, I was assigned as a manager at the filling station
I was still not enough for my wife who earned a lot than me.
I was a good husband better than my stepfather
That made me proud.

Good things don't last forever.
When my wife cheated on me with her friend.
My mind swapped away all the good man act in me.
The monster, I kept locked in my cage for years, got out of the cage.
I too cursed my lungs with alcohol.
She would say sorry for what she did but all could remind me of my mother and father.
Things got worse when she told me that one of the kids is not mine.
I loved her and she was cheating on me.
Somewhere I thought of my stepfather as a good guy because when hit my mother things would be okay tomorrow morning
I did that too.

The night I tried to kill her I realized that I am not a good person and I have to stop.
Both my kids and their mother were my punching bag.
I committed su***de because I want to stop.
Don't cry when you find me hanging
Consider yourself lucky because I didn't kill you guys too.
I love you all and I will always look down on you.
I did what I did because I wanted you guys to have peace.
I wanted you guys to be happy.
I die with a happy heart.
I am sorry but I have to go...🥀😭

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