King K Quote Of The Day

Let’s get real — too many people today treat their word like it’s disposable. They make promises they have no intention of keeping. They nod, smile, say “I got you” or “Don’t worry, I’ll be there” — and then they ghost. Do you realize the damage that does? This isn’t just about being “unreliable” or “forgetful.” This is about lives. Broken promises break people. Period. Some of you don’t understand that when you tell someone you’ll be there for them and then you don’t show up, you’re not just late — you’re telling them, “You don’t matter.” When you promise help, guidance, or support and then vanish, you’re basically pushing someone closer to the edge. People have taken their own lives because somebody else decided their word didn’t mean a damn thing. Let that sink in. Suicide doesn’t always come from one big traumatic event. Sometimes it comes from a thousand small cuts — and your negligence, your failure to honor your word, can be the final one. Stop excusing yourself with, “Oh...

For years, I’ve sat back and watched something that honestly pains me: the money that Bajans work hard for doesn’t circulate within our own community—it leaves and enriches everybody else’s. Every time this happens, our chance at building true generational wealth slips further out of reach. Let’s be real: almost every other community out there makes it a point to buy from their own, support their own, and grow with their own. That’s not hate or bias—that’s strategy, that’s loyalty, that’s survival. Meanwhile, too many Bajans pride themselves on saying, “I don’t want to be biased” or “I just go with whoever cheapest.” And while that sounds “fair,” the truth is it’s this very mindset that’s stifling our progress. If we don’t deliberately support each other, who will? If we don’t create an ecosystem where Bajan dollars stay in Bajan hands, how do we expect to see stronger businesses, better jobs, or wealth that passes down to our children and grandchildren? It’s time we break that c...

Back in 2016, when InCruises first launched, many brushed it off as “just another scam.” I heard it all: “That’ll never last,” “Nobody makes money doing that,” and “It’s too good to be true.” But here we are, nearly a decade later. Multiple cruises later. Multiple members later. Millions of dollars in commissions paid out later. This picture says it all 👇 Janice Marita Pat and Dawn  What you’re looking at here isn’t just a nice Cruise photo backdrop—it’s legacy in the making. That’s my mentees standing proudly with two of their mentees. Real women, real results, real stories from Barbados. When we started, the idea of traveling the world for half the price and earning while doing it sounded crazy to most. Now? The proof is undeniable. Families are vacationing, dreams are being lived, and lives are being transformed. And to the doubters: this is what happens when you let skepticism stop you—you watch others win while you stand still. 👉 If you’ve been sitting on the fence, le...

Today I had an eye-opening experience that says a lot about how “group chats” are being run—and why so many people feel like they’re going in circles instead of moving forward. I was in a group chat where job postings get shared daily. On the surface, that sounds great. But I asked a simple, honest poll: Are people actually getting interviews or jobs from these postings? That’s not negativity, that’s accountability. The post was deleted by an admin So I wrote another message asking why transparency was such a threat. Deleted again. And then? I was removed from the group altogether. Let that sink in. In a space that’s supposed to help people find work , the idea of measuring actual results was treated like rebellion. That’s not leadership—that’s control. The kicker came when a job ad was posted with a broken email address. Someone pointed it out, and the admin’s response was basically: “Not my problem, I just share what I get.” That’s like a chef serving you spoiled food and shr...

Some years back, if you got into an accident—say your car spun out on a wet road or you slipped and broke your ankle—the first thing you could count on was a crowd of first responders. Maybe they weren’t paramedics, but somebody would jump in. A stranger would grab your hand, rip their shirt to make a bandage, or shout, “Hang on, help is coming!” That human instinct to assist first, question later was the norm. Fast forward to today, and what do we see? The new generation of “helpers” are armed not with gauze and CPR skills, but with iPhones set to 4K resolution and captions already forming in their heads: “OMG tragic accident 💔 #Prayers #BreakingNews”. Instead of dialing 911, they’re going live on Instagram. Instead of compressing a chest, they’re compressing the zoom button. We’ve somehow shifted from first responders to first reporters. And here’s the sick humor in it: imagine gasping for air, looking up, and the last thing you see is someone angling their phone just right to...