@etumbanabangunayakongo: Le Congo 🇨🇬 SIM-ergent de Sassou 66 ans après: système ya multiplication x 2 😱 

etumbanabangunayakongo
etumbanabangunayakongo
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Saturday 15 August 2026 15:10:21 GMT
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jeanbedelfloriank7
Jean bedel Florian KOULOUNGOU :
Kiekiekie 🤣🤣🤣2x2x🤣🤣Kiekiekie
2026-09-09 09:45:38
1
maixens.ng
Maixen's NG :
mon chef m'avait proposé ça à franchement c'est triste hein 😂🤣😂🤣😂
2026-08-27 21:12:13
6
chardel.rosein.ma
Chardel rosein Mavoungou :
Mossomba veut dire quoi ?
2026-09-02 15:54:34
0
gracianaboka2
G.M :
Mossomba: veut dire quoi mon frère ?
2026-08-22 17:31:44
0
sabrinaelengab
Sabrina elenga :
c'est triste où va le monde vanité
2026-09-02 20:05:24
0
izayakongo.officiel
Izayakongo Officiel 🇨🇬♾️ :
Arrêtez de généraliser c'est dans le PCT que ce trouve ces pratiques
2026-09-09 20:21:37
0
user611925279563
user611925279563 :
kiekiekie vérité absolue
2026-09-05 21:07:49
0
okouere.stone.sel
selfmademan :
pourquoi la photo de ce mr
2026-08-31 22:16:20
0
user7454139348614
Bradley :
mossomba ekomi clé ya succès
2026-08-17 13:38:49
1
user8023233786105
ponton br :
donc pour un million ? même
2026-08-30 08:57:07
0
gnral6339
général :
Congo Brazzaville.
2026-08-26 20:07:44
0
mcnkoy001
MC NKOY🇨🇩🇨🇬 :
presser faux !!!!
2026-08-16 13:55:28
0
rolly___daco
🤵🏽👾 :
C’est ou ???
2026-08-22 05:35:45
0
christvanferolotsimi2
Dacosta 12 :
😅😂😂
2026-08-16 15:12:37
0
user14225439411156
Patricia :
C’est une réalité mon frère
2026-08-16 20:49:48
5
gloireshogun14k
Gloire shogun14k🇨🇬 :
🔥
2026-08-16 09:34:05
0
bonheurswag
Bonheur 💙❤️ :
Bo Tika lokuta, chercher l’argent
2026-08-18 17:05:16
0
maixens.ng
Maixen's NG :
😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
2026-08-27 21:11:44
0
dghijy
dan pépé carreta :
😂😂😂😂🤣🤣😂
2026-08-16 20:05:43
0
zaimatsu.k2
criptone :
😂😂😂😅🤣
2026-08-16 17:28:09
0
jordy.loukabou
Jordy Loukabou :
😂😂😂🤣🤣
2026-08-19 00:10:09
0
antonyking.46
ANTONY KING :
😂🤣😂😂😅😂🤣
2026-08-15 23:07:07
0
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Other Videos

Did you ever climb a hill just to breathe? Just to let the silence punch you in the gut and remind you you’re still alive? Up in the Apuseni, somewhere past the last bark of a sheepfold dog and before the edge of reason, there’s a barn that has given up on impressing anyone. The wood peels like sunburnt skin, its beams bend like tired men. It’s not picturesque. It’s not curated. It just is. But then there’s that swing—still tied to the tree like a secret never told. It hangs there, stubborn, creaking when the wind remembers to push it. A monument to a childhood that maybe wasn’t yours, but you can feel in your teeth. These hills don’t whisper; they accuse. Of forgetting. Of leaving. Of paving over stories with concrete and hashtags. Țara Moților isn’t a fairy tale, it’s a poem. A beautiful, wild, necessary poem. The land breathes like a sleeping beast, and deep beneath it, bones and ice and handprints older than history remind us we weren’t the first to cry here. The Apuseni caves don’t echo—they swallow. Villages cling to ridges like dried blood, and old women still make bread without looking at recipes. Time here doesn’t pass—it ferments. Why do we always seek the polished, the filtered, the easy? When did we start calling ruins ugly and forget they’re just survivors without makeup? That swing, that barn, that hill—they’re not waiting for you. They’re not here to make you feel better. But maybe, just maybe, if you sit on that swing and close your eyes, something buried might stir. Do you still remember what made you laugh as a child? When was the last time you truly missed something you never had? Video by @giani_frentz  [Apuseni Mountains, Țara Moților, Rustic Solitude, Abandoned Barns, Forgotten Childhoods, Carpathian Silence, Romanian Wilderness, Mountain Memories, Traditional Heritage, Ancient Caves, Nature’s Wrath, Weathered Wood, Lonely Swings, Village Remnants, Ice Caves, Spiritual Geography, Stark Beauty, Fermented Time, Rural Emotions, Ancestral Echoes] #romania #travel #apuseni #rawplaces
Did you ever climb a hill just to breathe? Just to let the silence punch you in the gut and remind you you’re still alive? Up in the Apuseni, somewhere past the last bark of a sheepfold dog and before the edge of reason, there’s a barn that has given up on impressing anyone. The wood peels like sunburnt skin, its beams bend like tired men. It’s not picturesque. It’s not curated. It just is. But then there’s that swing—still tied to the tree like a secret never told. It hangs there, stubborn, creaking when the wind remembers to push it. A monument to a childhood that maybe wasn’t yours, but you can feel in your teeth. These hills don’t whisper; they accuse. Of forgetting. Of leaving. Of paving over stories with concrete and hashtags. Țara Moților isn’t a fairy tale, it’s a poem. A beautiful, wild, necessary poem. The land breathes like a sleeping beast, and deep beneath it, bones and ice and handprints older than history remind us we weren’t the first to cry here. The Apuseni caves don’t echo—they swallow. Villages cling to ridges like dried blood, and old women still make bread without looking at recipes. Time here doesn’t pass—it ferments. Why do we always seek the polished, the filtered, the easy? When did we start calling ruins ugly and forget they’re just survivors without makeup? That swing, that barn, that hill—they’re not waiting for you. They’re not here to make you feel better. But maybe, just maybe, if you sit on that swing and close your eyes, something buried might stir. Do you still remember what made you laugh as a child? When was the last time you truly missed something you never had? Video by @giani_frentz [Apuseni Mountains, Țara Moților, Rustic Solitude, Abandoned Barns, Forgotten Childhoods, Carpathian Silence, Romanian Wilderness, Mountain Memories, Traditional Heritage, Ancient Caves, Nature’s Wrath, Weathered Wood, Lonely Swings, Village Remnants, Ice Caves, Spiritual Geography, Stark Beauty, Fermented Time, Rural Emotions, Ancestral Echoes] #romania #travel #apuseni #rawplaces

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