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#banking
The news arrives as harmattan wind— dry, clean, rearranging dust in the banking halls where mahogany desks once held only one kind of hand. Now eleven women sit. Not as omens. Not as guests. As hinges. A ceiling splits above the ledger books. Let the shards fall where they may. Still, some men flinch— a sudden hollow in the jaw, a myth they swaddled for decades unravelling at the hem. They name it collapse, their tongues anxious brushes painting every wall with smoke. But fear is not forecast. Fear is the echo of a lock that met its key at last. They forget— or perhaps they never knew— that before the first mahogany desk was hewn and polished, before the first ledger ruled its lines, Ọṣun sat in council with the orishas, her wisdom the river that fed what their iron could not. They dismissed her once— those gods of thunder and iron, those lords of the forge and the road--- convened their assembly of power and forgot to call her name. And the work failed. The harvest rotted. The enterprise of heaven stumbled on its own exclusion. Until they returned to the river. Until they listened to what the water had been saying all along. This is not new. This is Ọṣun remembered. This is the cosmos correcting what arrogance interrupted. Women belong here the way rain belongs to March— not by pardon, not by lottery, but by the quiet jurisdiction of a mind that has solved for years what panic could not. They are half the heartbeat of this nation. Now the pulse climbs the stairs, finds the boardroom, sits down. Nigeria, let others stumble in their tangled rites, still asking if a woman can hold fire. You have placed the flame in hands that Ọṣun blessed before your banking halls had names. Leadership was never woven into a man's rib. It is earned in the carrying, the bearing of weight without breaking, the knowing of when to strike and when to kneel— the way the river knows when to overflow its banks and when to run deep and still beneath the surface of things, shaping the land not by force but by patient, persistent presence. So to the whisperers of endangerment— loosen your grip. The march does not wait for your permission. Equality is not a gift you lost. It is a debt whose interest has been compounding in the bodies of women who carried your institutions on their backs while you called it support. Ọṣun's river does not ask the stone for permission to flow. It finds the crack. It widens it. It makes of the breaking a channel. And the vault is open. © Lanre Adebayo (final revised version)
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May 3
May 3, 2026 at 1:55 PM UTC
Shattered Ceilings, Open Vaults
The news arrives as harmattan wind— dry, clean, rearranging dust in the banking halls where mahogany desks once held only one kind of hand. Now eleven women sit. Not as omens. Not as guests. As hinges. A ceiling splits above the ledger books. Let the shards fall where they may. Still, some men flinch— a sudden hollow in the jaw, a myth they swaddled for decades unravelling at the hem. They name it collapse, their tongues anxious brushes painting every wall with smoke. But fear is not forecast. Fear is the echo of a lock that met its key at last. They forget— or perhaps they never knew— that before the first mahogany desk was hewn and polished, before the first ledger ruled its lines, Ọṣun sat in council with the orishas, her wisdom the river that fed what their iron could not. They dismissed her once— those gods of thunder and iron, those lords of the forge and the road--- convened their assembly of power and forgot to call her name. And the work failed. The harvest rotted. The enterprise of heaven stumbled on its own exclusion. Until they returned to the river. Until they listened to what the water had been saying all along. This is not new. This is Ọṣun remembered. This is the cosmos correcting what arrogance interrupted. Women belong here the way rain belongs to March— not by pardon, not by lottery, but by the quiet jurisdiction of a mind that has solved for years what panic could not. They are half the heartbeat of this nation. Now the pulse climbs the stairs, finds the boardroom, sits down. Nigeria, let others stumble in their tangled rites, still asking if a woman can hold fire. You have placed the flame in hands that Ọṣun blessed before your banking halls had names. Leadership was never woven into a man's rib. It is earned in the carrying, the bearing of weight without breaking, the knowing of when to strike and when to kneel— the way the river knows when to overflow its banks and when to run deep and still beneath the surface of things, shaping the land not by force but by patient, persistent presence. So to the whisperers of endangerment— loosen your grip. The march does not wait for your permission. Equality is not a gift you lost. It is a debt whose interest has been compounding in the bodies of women who carried your institutions on their backs while you called it support. Ọṣun's river does not ask the stone for permission to flow. It finds the crack. It widens it. It makes of the breaking a channel. And the vault is open. © Lanre Adebayo (final revised version)
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Let’s talk about life and let’s be frank All global strife starts and ends at the bank With fake inflation and monetized debt It Cripples our nations, controls us through threat Now let me be formal and you might think me mental But free markets are normal it’s really the Central Creation of cash at a click of a button Valued at trash, your debt they take cut-in War for resources innocence left in lurch While weaving clauses to suppress free energy research The influence is deep, insidious at best Our lives they will reap seen as figures to invest It’s a perfect legal sin That we do not deserve Its the evil of Central Banking and Fractional Reserve
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Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 5:44 PM UTC
The Undeserving
Noon, I’m next in line behind an old man. “I want to withdraw fourteen dollars,” he says. The teller, a young woman with a soft sweater, says “There’s only—let me check—yes—fifty-two cents.” “Are you sure?” “Yes.” She tilts her head. “Sorry.” The sorrow is genuine. He wears a pinstripe suit, frayed, wafting an odor of smoke and earth. A smartly folded handkerchief, breast pocket, has a dark stain. His silver beard is neatly trimmed. On one wall above the safe is a giant mural of teamsters driving a stagecoach. The man says, “There might be—” “No. It’s always the same.” For a moment he closes his eyes, a slow blink while indignities of a lifetime pass. Without a word, the young woman slides a sandwich over the countertop through the teller window. “Blessings on you,” the man says with a nod, and he walks away with a limp. I cash my check, a big one from three days of messy labor for a matron of the horsey set. “He lives by the creek,” the teller says without my asking. “Under a bridge.” Outside the bank, in the parking lot of glistening cars, I look around for the pinstripe suit, the silver beard. I might offer the man something. He might refuse to take it. Anyway, no matter: he has disappeared like the last stagecoach. Only the blessing remains.
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Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 12:35 PM UTC
Wells Fargo Bank
Motto,                "Where consumers go to borrow in aid of a common good." ...because all interest is given to social causes directed to by the publicly-elected board of directors. A true good for all mankind whom wish to participate. A real bank. A real social institution. That doesn't, EXIST
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Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 11:53 PM UTC
Banking Public Interest
..somehow a worldwide trading system on future emissions worked? What if we changed, "industry," with, "humanity?" What if a trading-credits system existed for individual income tax against future projected earnings? Al Gore was wrong... Imagine being out of work and gaining credits against future tax liabilities? ...by working for a charity IS THE MONEY REAL? DOES IT EXIST BEFORE YOU MAKE IT? If you are a CCX member trading on Wall Street then; YES! Why should all finance be about struggle and not about love or charity? DO YOU AGREE WITH CONSTANT STRUGGLE? THE CENTRAL BANK PRINTS MONEY FROM NOTHING... Americans can do anything; ...because we control the production of, "money." "Money...."
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Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
What if Al Gore Was Right?
Who controls our banking? Ruinous fees for money lending. Who questions their investing? Why so dear for money dealing? Who does profit from accounting? Our finances they're controlling, While our economy they're ruining, They're amassing fortunes pecuniary, Big business for them, commercially. Let's question their accountability For our faceless Australian economy, Profits overseas they're sending--- So much for Australian banking!!!
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Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
HIGH FINANCE
a lupine prayer to bear and bull cry wolf cry wolf cry wolf now look into his eyes until you think like I do and then take a desperate man for his last penny (finance options available) go long on a cheeky Nando's followed by no inflation constant expansion short the small print and profit from the fight against pollution by investing in the future but as returns don't come cheap diversify and purify the self the Ganges is so polluted it has gall bladder cancer the main economic indicators are telling us that inflation is set to jump, while British statisticians are optimistic that the housing ladder will continue to defy gravity as it is an export barometer with a blue eyed quant inside crying wolf crying wolf cry wolf
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 3:05 AM UTC
In it for the money