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In the face of your assailant, only one weapon can guarantee victory, that weapon is Love.


One hot sunny day in 1948, a humid sun effortlessly floated across the skies of the far away rural lands of Mashonaland East. The cries of a little girl could be heard filling the air as they echoed off the mountainside of the obscure African village. Indoors, in the arms of a thin frail and exhausted woman, lay a little newborn, the most beautiful little girl in the world. I cannot say for sure, but I imagine her tiny body wrapped in an old fraying blanket or towel, she was the first child of a sweet couple who decided they would name her Anna.


Her hands and feet were unusually large for a little girl, but she would grow up to be tall and unknown to everyone including herself, those same large hands were a gift from God, precisely. Her parents owned a couple of grass thatch huts which whistled when the wind blew and often needed a fire lit inside during those cold bitter nights. They had a piece of land which they tilled, planted corn, sorghum, vegetables and more for meals. They also owned a few livestock which covered all their simple needs for survival.


Not in a million years could anyone have ever imagined the beautiful soul that Anna would grow up to be, those that knew her well would simply describe her as a mother to the orphans. She fell in love with a handsome, stylish young man who wore designer Italian suits and it is around then she became a mother and her sewing career began. Anna was more than a mother, she was my soulmate, she named me Blessing and called me her best friend.


The most precious moments in my life belong to sitting next to her, watching her sew as the thumping sound of a vintage Singer sewing machine thumped like a traditional drum. “Thread the needle for me my friend, my eyes are going”, she would say to me. She installed in me that all it takes is your own two hands to change your world, that no matter the weapon of the assailant, my weapon must always be love. In 2016 Anna died of heart failure, the doctor said she had an enlarged heart, it was that full of love.


She was not a designer, she was simply a creator and a humanitarian, she is the very foundation of Bless By Bless. What started mountainside of that little village in Zimbabwe, continues today. I live to create, empower and unite those that choose to believe in unconditional love.

One heart, one Love and one TRIIIB.

The Army of Luv.


Bless Maz
Fashion Designer / Humanitarian