Outgrowing the wild

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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.

Journal

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.

Pen

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.

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On ageing

In my thoughts, in my head, in my journal. Here.

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Win your battle before you come home to mine.

Don’t remind me the trails of footsteps I face everyday.

It’s not enough to live young, wild and free because I know of places that don’t bring me such experiences.

Hold onto the existence, let what you have to say complement mine. Let what you have to give add up.

Don’t scare me with silence. Don’t tell me I’m too young to learn what grey hair can teach. It’s my cup of tea.

I am not here to prove how much neither do I seek accomplishments that will one day be forgotten.

I’ve been told countless times to win, win and win but I never got led to. My bruises, pain, tears, countless failures equals me.

Give me what you call wisdom, give me peace of mind. I’ll find my fun,my energy, my space and most importantly, me in all of it. Let me be.

Ageing is just a state of mind.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

Oh sweet mama!

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For those who harbour a special kind of love in their hearts, I believe you all can relate to the chills your mum/mummy/mama gives you. For those who have lost theirs to this cruel world, I believe you all too can feel yours even more than I do. Every mum is a blessing, a celebration and a joy to the hearts of those who cherish a good thing.

I can’t say I’m closer to my mum than I am to my dad but part of who I am today was hugely impacted by mama. She would resound these native proverbs (incomprehensible ones) when I was little each time she wasn’t happy with me and they never really made sense until now. I sing them to my friends in English like I’m actually advising them when in reality I miss being scolded by mama. She makes the most jokes in the house and will always be the first to discipline any of my siblings including me whenever we decide to be naughty. I hated the days of “church every sunday and wednesday” coupled with “fellowship every friday” but all that I miss now knowing how much I’ve drifted away and how far from home I am.

It’s not easy to raise five children, and sometimes I look back now and admire mama in the purest way ever. The least she does is complain about how best we should be doing, instead she would find alternatives even if it means risking her all to get it for us all. Everyone in the house will call her “mgbo” (meaning-bullet) because she’s overly protective of her own especially towards papa. I’d tease her sometimes about her tummy asking her when we’d be expecting more siblings. Her response never changes anyway “Zuzuru gi shi eba puo!” (meaning- stupidly get out of here!).

I was never used to saying “I love you” to her but staying away from home for more than a year has got me into the habit of doing so, knowing how much I miss her and her Sunday white rice with “ofe akwu” (palm kernel soup). One of the tastiest you’ll ever have from a typical Igbo (ethnic group in Nigeria) home. Mama will giggle and say “Okay” each time I tell her I love her. Guess that’s the Nigerian way of saying “me too”. I very much miss my mum and I can’t bear another year apart from her nor my dad and siblings.

How much does/did your mama/mum mean/meant to you dear reader? Would love to know if there are momma’s boys and girls around my blog :). Thank you for reading.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

A poem for self- millennial poetry

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Remind me who takes it all at last,

the cries, the shame, worries and joys in the past.

These ones never heard of you,

the whole, priceless yet worthy of a true.

LOVE ME ALL THE TIME.

I didn’t need you when I needed to pray,

to wear my make-up, spray and slay.

Who left my name in your mouth?

with your opinions stinging and stinking like gout.

LOVE ME BACK TO BACK.

Can I say a word or two?

about myself, my worth, the way I eat too.

It’s not my taste for men you despise so,

but the way I love and love me to toe.

LOVE ME IN THIS SEASON.

Life without me is like no life

no star, no queen, less diamonds, no wife.

I’ll pay my weaknesses with strength and love

nevertheless, these words won’t stall or put me off.

LOVE ME WITHOUT REASON

 

 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

 

Poise

They say something about writers that I often believe isn’t untrue. You can tell the kind of life they live from their words, what they feel and how they feel. Although, most people often refer to actions as being the loudest amongst written words, I read patterns from crossed ‘Ts’ and dotted ‘Is’. Some would rather kill you and bury their guilt in words than stand up against you and utter a word. This is an example of balance I suppose.

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Picture gotten from-Colossal

What makes you you?

I’d like to be blunt. Think bluntly too dear reader.

This question should pop up every now and then in your daily life.

What makes you feel true, not what makes you feel like you should be some type of way. Not that stereotype kind of person. I’m not asking about the you you feel you should change to suit a particular circle or person. What is it that genuinely makes you smile, makes you get up in the morning and feel purposeful? What is it you feel you should be doing rather than which you are doing for a certain reason best known to you? The day you get the true answer to that question that is the very day you begin to live a life full of value. A life with so much to offer and less to ask from.

Most people up until their late forties suffer from identity crisis, not knowing where they belong or what it is they are truly living for. Others either just go with life or are very certain of what it is they ought to build for and lose as life goes on. Whichever way it is that we are climbing the ladder, we as individuals all get to that point where we stop and process it all. We reflect and make changes. The only difference is that these changes either gets worse or better. Creating a balance with life helps weed out the unnecessary, it humbles our little beginnings and keeps us woke.

Become a student over and over

Ryan Holiday, the author of the book ‘Ego is the enemy’ described one of the reasons for prolonged success in most moguls and successful people that have lived and still is, is cultivating the habit of re-learning. It might not be the best advise but going back and learning the basis of what brought you farther than ever and applying them over and over makes you the best at what you do. It humbles you enough to also learn from others and realize how much the foundation play a bigger role in sustaining timely success.

Energy is an investment

What you place value in is where you spend most of your time. To create balance, energy must be of value too. This determines where that ladder you’re climbing is heading to. Do you spend most of your time investing in people who are less invested in you? You’ll find that you’ll be losing yourself in the process. Do you make time for things that will develop your mind and encourage you to live healthier and happier? The results won’t lie at all as you’ll find yourself growing and developing from stage to stage. Energy is a heavy investment that determines where you’ll be in years to come. Invest wisely and you’ll find your reap to be solely built upon what you made time for.

There are many ways to enlarge your horizon and still be in balance, when you begin answering the first question asked in this piece “what makes you you?” you’ll find that initial step to help you put it all together and move on from there.

I’d like you to share with me ways that you create balance for yourself and your inner mind in the comment box. Thank you.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

 

Blogging series 6: Never have I ever

by Dyna Ekwueme

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Picture gotten from-Runningaway

WRITTEN FOR THE THINGS AND PEOPLE I LUSTED FOR

Being vulnerable about my fantasies and sexual cravings for certain kinds of profane words and touch that emits all kinds of vibrations in my writing. Never have I ever been found writing about my wants for  someone else, someone who doesn’t want me, someone who probably thinks I don’t exist. The hypnosis of my feelings, like a spree cursed by a god.

WRITTEN FOR THE THINGS I GAINED FROM PAIN 

The writer’s block I get every now and then, fleeing from my blog like I’m all about that busy life. I wouldn’t write about the long piles of unpublished posts in my draft which has me thinking “I’m not good enough for me”. The resits people don’t see but praise me for as a university girl. The pain and struggle behind it all tends to be hidden in what appears to be like “she’s doing okay” to you.

WRITTEN FOR THE PEOPLE WHO NEED THIS WRITING

With self-obsessive writing blinding me, I fail to write for those who need their voices projected, for those who look up to words to heal them, for those who are not educated and need their tears sent to the government, parliament, leaders, charity organizations and philanthropic bodies through my writing. Never have I ever written enough for change, for love for others, for unity, for development and for substance of evolution.

Part 2 contributed by Emediong Etetim

WRITTEN FOR THE LIFE I WISH I HAD
Everyone feels they understand the level of pain or frustration I’m in. To them, only my feet is touching the water. To me, only my head is above the water. Never have my words been understood but rather misconstrued. Now to live a life where it is okay to not have to explain myself at every turn is all I crave to have.

Disclaimer: This piece was originally written by me and part contributed by Emediong Etetim. No one else had contributed to this piece. 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

 

Blogging series 6: Public appraisal

by Emediong Etetim

In the world where your life is being judged by your online content, where you do not have an interesting day if it isn’t posted on snapchat or your style sense isn’t on par if you do not have a crisp photo on Instagram showing off your latest designer purchase. It is not very surprising that self validation is also being set by twitter’s standards.

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Picture gotten from-Pixabay

In the world where trends are to be followed in order to stay relevant, where everyone’s mind is now programmed to think alike, to act alike, if you do not know the latest music releases, the latest celebrity couples and their cats, the most recent dance moves, or you’re not sporting the pointiest eyeliner, then “girl you tripping”. And you’d sit and wonder whatever happened to ‘uniqueness’.

The words ‘different’, ‘special’, ‘unique’ are all slowly getting lost in our dictionary. Everyone doing all they can to stay relevant even if it means morphing into carbon copies of already existing duplicates. Everyone trying to standout as a clone that they are forgetting that a photocopy will always remain just a mediocre of the original.

We’re all walking, talking faceless ‘ordinaries’ allowing ‘relevance’ to draw patterns unto us as they deem fit, still lacking distinction regardless.

To those who have managed to stay true, and self aware…

Part 2 contributed by Dyna Ekwueme

To those who don’t fall for mediocrity and cliché of existing contents and lifestyle. To those who don’t fit in the stereotypes displayed by the society and pressure exerted by peers and the  outside world that can’t see through their walls. This is not for you.

I want to speak my mind. I want to be free like that little child, be open to learning new things and absorbing the differences in us that shapes our inner minds. I want to be feared by my fears, put what matters first and not what appears to be important. I want to love not for the fashion or looks or the utterances made by jealous minds. I want to care less about the public, be humbled by little beginnings and fight for those who can’t find strength within them, yet I still crave to act otherwise because it’s what the public wants. That is the better way I believe the public can better appraise me. What a mess!

Do you write for your sake or that of the others?

Can you atone for the times you failed to recognize what could have been better? Is it ego or is it just us who are slowly dying from what the world has thrown at us? How much more are you willing to let out before you tell the real story behind how far you’ve come? where do you recognize as home? Here or there?

Disclaimer: This post was originally written and inspired by Emediong Etetim and part contributed by me. There was no third party to this collaboration.

Find out more about Emediong ( For lifestyle, fashion and real  life collaborations) on

Stylepith.com

IG- @em.etetim

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

Blogging series 5: The spirit behind “I am”

by Marvel Augustine

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Picture gotten from- siouxlander

In life you go through a conditioning process, it creates a mindset (habitual) overflowing with ‘I AM NOTs’. I’ll throw in more light here, take for example; as a young girl of nubile age but you seem to have a broken relationship always, you find yourself with the wrong men and so on. You feel really bad and believe that you are not good enough, you look into the mirror and compare yourself to a glamorous movie idol or homecoming queen and say to yourself, I am not attractive.

Your relationship fractures, and you then begin to think you’re unloved or unworthy. Better still as a schoolchild with a less satisfactory scores (grades) on your report card, you say to yourself, “I am not smart”. These and many more are continuous occurrences you develop all through the years and into adulthood, which begins to define the way you see yourself.

Overcoming this “I am not” mindset  or mentality begins with trusting your inner spirit. There are no boundaries restricting your inner spirit, but your worldview and conceptions to the outer world are defined by this, using your five senses. The outer world is always changing, which, by our definition, means it is not real. This awareness that remains unchanging is the only reality that could lead you to experiencing a majestic wake-up
call.

Run through as many inventories as you can of the things that you would like to define your life with, then make the shift of your imaginations from “I AM NOT” to “I AM”. If you want what follows “I AM” to be harmonious, you should become conscious of what affects your inner spirit. Change the words that define the concept of yourself. Reword your inner mindset first, then seek to gain access to the real you and all that you  desire.

The words “I AM” which you consistently use should define who you truly are and what you are capable of. It should be represented as meek as that of the holy expression for the name of God. Always make your very first consideration the honor of your divine spirit. This will allow you rise to previously unimagined heights.Spiritual acknowledgement is a trigger to the power of “I AM”. Teach your outer self to acknowledge the Supernatural power of your inner spirit.

“I AM”, two of the most powerful words ever, whatever you put after them defines your reality. Stay positive!

Disclaimer: This piece was originally written by Marvel Augustine and this is one of the media he chose to share his inspirational piece. No parts were added by me or anyone. 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

Blogging series 4: Forest of Promise

by Aiidee Sinclair

I was on my way to Bonny Island to see a relative. We had boarded a ship and sailed off. After about 35 mins we heard fired gunshots. 

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Picture gotten from-Thailand

“what is the problem?” I asked one of the cabin crew.” our ship is under attack by a group of gangsters ” a man I could I tell from his voice was in great panic answered.

“what?!” I screamed on top of my voice with my heart throbbing aloud.

“Please Mr. help me! they are after me” said the most beautiful and gorgeous girl I have ever seen, crying by the end of the ship just close to the entrance of the main door.

I wasn’t in my right thinking as I forgot for a moment that we were in a great deal of danger. Her natural beauty got me. I finally decided to help, as what else was there to do when we were under attack by the unknown. As I pulled her up from the ground, she seemed frightened and had given me a distrustful look.

“What is happening? what offence did you commit? was it you who had caused this attack?” I asked furiously not minding if she had answers to it or not. It felt like such a nightmare. ” I was about to be smuggled into a world that doesn’t exist, I had escaped before my abductors knew what was next”  she replied with a hasty look. 

“boss! there she is” A man with a huge jaw beard appeared from behind her. She turned,  pointing at the three hefty men with large figures and a mean lookwalking towards us with the man I had seen at first, screaming 

“please Mr. help me! those men are after me”, I quickly grabbed her by her hand  and began running towards the front of the ship not knowing where this will eventually lead us.

“There is no other option than for us to jump as many of the crew had done” I said softly to her when we got to the front top of the ship. She didn’t hesitate but jumped off the ship. I followed swiftly. We swam for what seemed like an eternity until I passed out….

we found ourselves at the shore of the sea surrounded by thick green forests….

To be continued…

Disclaimer: This piece was originally written by Aiidee Sinclair and this is one of the media he chose to share his fictional prose. No parts were added by me or anyone. 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

Blogging series 3: The fortress of our romance

by Vic-Sandra

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                                        Picture gotten from-Rominblack

Words unspoken
Eyes unrelated
The quiet of the distance
The distance between the space
Her tongue rising only to fall
Her lips parting only to sigh
And her voice heard, only to falter
And only the heart in his voice could lift her gaze

And this is the fortress of our romance;
Backs aback,
Rears at rage,
Thumping thresholds,
Even the boundaries bicker
The carcasses of our empty pain linked umbilically
And the laughs of our yesterday stand appalled
Is this the fortress of our romance?

Tight eyes open only with hope of a promise
The promise to be held beyond our grief
And the faith in his safe hands,
Ones that nudged my entirety to life
And cradled my fears to sleep
For the edge we sought had found us
And only our instinctive breath had pulled us beyond our volatile volition
In hindsight, this really was our fortress
For only here did we fight, to love
And cry to smile
And part to be held.

Part 1: contributed by Dyna Ekwueme

In soft touch we rekindled,

doses of unfelt passion.

The place we had it all

bearing  it with trade marks of our untold kisses

The memoirs of our romance

The letters written in penance.

Oh darling! how strong can you feel this love

the plight of our soft edges.

Let me save you this beating heart

a thousand times and more

to feel this thing we bore,

Love, Ore.

Disclaimer:This piece was originally written by Vic-Sandra and part contributed by me. No parts were added by any other.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.