Outgrowing the wild


I was about cooking Jollof rice when I looked out the kitchen window to see the spectrum of bloom the weather left the sky. It reminded me of evenings in Aba (my home town in Nigeria). It reminded me of the way the weather back home tells us how much it would pour rain down. I felt dark for a minute. Six more weeks to finish university, six more weeks of trying to catch up with the reality of my second home, Brighton.

107, Brighton

I used to hate long conversations with my housemates, I used to pick times where I’d choose to hang out with them. I used to lock up in my attic room and disturb them with my late loud music and my loud laugh with uni friends but now we talk, laugh and live like it’s a ritual. We get curious with when next we get to hang out or just play random games. You can tell from our eyes that farewell day will be more like doomsday.


A lot has changed in the past three years. Things have become a little clearer, my journeying, the reality of what I need to achieve in life, most importantly what I have to give and offer. They’ve become more pragmatic than illusive. At this point in my life, I’ve learned that I’m allowed to grow especially with others who are willing to grow with me. I’ve learned courage can come from the least of things and people. I learnt that growth doesn’t need to be big to be successful. I’m also aware that I’m allowed mistakes in every step of it, I’m allowed to fall and fail because I’m human.


Writing has humbled me in ways that I can’t explain, it has changed my sense of purpose. It has redirected me to people and places that bring peace and mindfulness and it still is. The process has been bliss and I believe strongly that it’s fully been God. I’ve  had the opportunity to believe in the strength I carry with words, to pray sometimes with my pen because my mouth can be heavy to say the right words to God. If only I can write in other languages, the world will pray too.

There are many ways I’ve stripped off colours of habits that I don’t identify with, ones that won’t serve me. Many ways I’d love to do more for living and not trying so hard to live right. It’s a gradual process. It’s an investment on and for self. It’s my culture, my way of outgrowing the wild.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.


In the Very End #6

When I see old people in the bus, I think a lot before I actually get to my destination. I try so much to picture their young pretty faces under those wrinkles. I hallucinate on how young and vibrant they would have hopped into the bus, climbed up the double-decker and quickly get seated. I sometimes think that they think so too at their very old age. I see wishes written on their faces, wishes of being able to laugh out loud and talk non-stop with friends. Wishes of being young again. I see all that in their sad looking faces. Nonetheless, some of them have lived a pretty much good life and these wishes might be untrue.

I want you today, to picture yourself at the age of 80 in a bus, seated there. What do you think you would be thinking of? Is it the next party that would be hosted in your city by your favourite artist? Is it an old man about your age that you find sweet and cute? Is it what you would wear the next day to impress the media and people around you? Is it the luxury of having tons of meaningless friends? What would you be thinking of? Perhaps, am guessing is when next you are going for a medical check up for either your teeth, foot, waist or eyes. It could be when next you want to feel like you are not alone, calling up your children to speak to your grandchildren and great too or even being a nanny. Let’s also add that you might want to go to church or mosque or a place of worship of your own choice. Think.

In the very end, you Reflect. This reflection comes with regrets of things you should have done whilst you were still full of life. The places you should have been, the people you should have helped, the mistakes you should have corrected, the people you should have dismissed and the kind of heart you should have possessed. In the very end comes non-fulfilment. Today has given you a chance to make right what should, to forgive and let  go, to learn to love and love again, to be happy and satisfied with all you have, to be grateful and value what’s to be valued and to be good in every way. Think.

Its 03:23am and I don’t know what prompted these thoughts but am certain it’s for good and you. #6 is here and seems like a reflection day for me, I’d like to know yours and how it’s going too. Leave your thoughts below. Thank you.


Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2015

Love #5

From a garden behind

What holds us, love. The commitment you give to your work is for love, the things we fight for in life is all because of love. Different religions all preach love, nothing else and we all would die for love.

This should have been my new beginning (#1) in this journey, but it all started to make more sense now, that’s why it fell into place today. We all see things differently, we perceive stereotypes of both common and uncommon situations differently that is the reason why love is abused. If only we can understand each other’s struggle, pain, ignorance and perception, I wouldn’t embark on this journey. If only we never grow out of love into hate and anxiety, our stories would all be the same. But in the end? Love conquers, it thrives to create bonds like no other. It waits patiently for you. For you to recognize your faults, for you to love again. Love is inevitable, it is immortal. We all are ensnared by love and that’s why we show kindness and compassion to people/things we know and don’t know.

I woke up today, mind blocked and not knowing what to share with you, then I asked myself again why am doing this and realized that it was all for love. Self love and my love for you reading this piece. I want to use this opportunity to thank you once more for being part of this. You are love and you are loved.

Tell us what you have gained so far in this journey and how it has changed your thinking in the comment box below. Thank you.


Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2015.