workflow
Workflow explores the everyday lives of every career imaginable.Whatever your job or position may be, your story has a unique way to be told and shared.
The Man Who Fixed the Clock
I didn’t notice the clock was broken until it stopped. It sat on the corner shelf of my grandparents’ living room for as long as I could remember—brass, ornate, with Roman numerals and a soft, steady tick that marked the rhythm of every visit. My grandfather wound it every Sunday without fail, even in his nineties, even when his hands shook.
By KAMRAN AHMAD28 days ago in Journal
The Boy Who Carried the Ball Home
I didn’t go to the game for the score. I went because my nephew asked me to. He’s twelve, wears his hair in a messy bun, and talks about basketball like it’s a secret language only he and the ball understand. “It’s not about winning,” he’d said, eyes bright. “It’s about who shows up when it matters.”
By KAMRAN AHMAD28 days ago in Journal
The Simple Reason AI Fails Frequently Is The Same As Why Humans Fail Frequently...
AI has taken the world by storm over the past couple of years. It has taken off so much... That businesses are now starting to replace workers with AI.
By Dr. Cody Dakota Wooten, DFM, DHM, DAS (hc)about a month ago in Journal
Setting Sails for 2026
The first days of January are often quieter in hospitality. The rush of the festive season fades, dining rooms return to a more familiar rhythm, and the intensity that defines the end of the year slowly settles. Yet responsibility does not disappear with the celebrations. If anything, it becomes more visible.
By Cristian Marinoabout a month ago in Journal
LinkedIn and Bangladesh’s Digital Workforce Transformation: Youth, Startups, and Future Skills
By Tuhin Sarwar | Dhaka। 02। December । 2025 । From her modest home in Sylhet, 24-year-old Rafia Hussain flips open a second-hand laptop, logs into the LinkedIn app and reviews an inbox of messages from clients in London, Singapore and Dubai. She adjusts a brand mock-up for a global startup, schedules a call with a US design director and uploads a revised style guide all before breakfast is done.
By Tuhin sarwarabout a month ago in Journal
Why We Watch the Fall
I’ve never worn gloves. But I’ve stood in my own ring. It was a rainy Tuesday in March. I sat across from a hiring panel, my résumé trembling in my hand, reciting answers I’d rehearsed for weeks. I’d been unemployed for eight months. My savings were gone. That job wasn’t just a paycheck—it was my lifeline. When they said, “We’ll be in touch,” I knew. The silence that followed wasn’t neutral. It was final.
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Journal
The Boy Who Didn’t Look Away
I was seventeen the first time I saw someone truly lose—and not just lose, but lose in front of everyone. It was a school assembly. A poetry contest. My friend Mateo had spent weeks writing a piece about his mother’s hands—how they cracked from cleaning other people’s houses, how they still braided his little sister’s hair every morning before dawn. He stood at the mic, voice trembling at first, then rising like a song. For three minutes, the gym was silent. Then he finished. And no one clapped.
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Journal
The Night Football Felt Like Church
I’d never been to Lambeau Field. I wasn’t a diehard fan. I didn’t own a jersey. I couldn’t name the starting quarterback. But when my brother called in late November—voice hoarse from crying—he didn’t ask for advice. He just said, “Come with me to the game. I can’t go alone.”
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Journal
The Year I Watched the Light Fall
I didn’t plan to watch the countdown that year. 2025 had worn me thin—layoffs, loss, the kind of loneliness that makes even your own voice feel like a stranger. By December, I’d stopped believing in fresh starts. New Year’s Eve felt like a cruel joke: a world celebrating while I was just trying to survive the night.
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Journal
The Night I Learned to Hope Again
I never believed in New Year’s Eve. For years, I called it a corporate fantasy—a glittery distraction sold to people who needed to believe time could be reset like a clock. I rolled my eyes at the countdowns, the fireworks, the forced resolutions. Hope, I thought, wasn’t something you found on a screen. It was something you earned in silence, alone.
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Journal
