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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Self-betrayal for my art

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Picture painted by Abasido

I’ve held grudges for mid-nights that refused to give me the right words, for ecstatic memories I needed to feel at times like this.

Here’s how people who applaud the cracks and loopholes in my craft talk to me.

Did you hear them? Did you see what I wrote about them? No, because they feed on silence and that quietness that keeps them at a distance.

Don’t sing praises yet for the way I make you feel. Don’t be confined in my thoughts for too long imagining how I penned it all down. Don’t love me only when you can relate to my pain. Learn to understand this place I choose to write from. Learn to fall with me without fighting gravity. Appreciate the loathe that burns through the words that speak for sanity. Know this. Know this always that I’m a breathing war.

Darkness

I wish I allow myself be whole everytime my fingers itch to speak. I wish I wouldn’t choose parts of me that aren’t naked everytime I listen to my body’s vibration.  There’s art in feeling the way I do before these processes. There’s also the art of picking what my soul’s spirit wouldn’t let the world listen to, self-betrayal.

I’d cut through these layers of my flesh to compromise for losses. I’d paint my worries red to white the agony of womanhood and my evolution. I’d dance to the tune of every poet I adore to feel sane and not hate that I do this. I’d give up writing about lust, what I think of others and where I’d rather be just to outshine these constant thoughts.

I’d betray myself everytime for this art. Writing.

Do you find yourself sometimes in similar situations of self-betrayal? Would love to know in the comment section below. Thank you.

PS– This content was featured by Abasido Michael with his beautiful art inspiring this post. Do check his Twitter page out and appreciate his content and art if you like them. Thank you. 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.