Rivalry- a poem of taste

Image result for kissing evil abstract in black and white

Picture gotten from- Pinterest

Have you consoled your embroidery?

your interwoven sleeves carved from healing smites?

Mother of souls.

Mother of colds with cursed sores.

You remind me of moon tales,

skipping bad omens for good fortune.

 

Oh buttercup!

Save these little fingers for one itch.

Bring men that think like goldsmiths,

black and beaten, chosen by water.

We can twist the tongue in spirals,

our food still wouldn’t know it’s born yet.

 

Let me tell you about noise-

Early mornings are for early mournings.

I’ve heard women say this

“visit me in places that make me scream”

another way to lure gardens to a shore.

…breathing heavily in silence.

 

I am

a taste of my own sin,

a dying flesh with wages sold as the moon rises.

I am

an in-betweener of stolen air,

in rivalry with my own mouth.

 

 

 

 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.

 

Advertisements

The perfect kind of lie

Related image

Picture gotten from- AJGIEL

It’s not the same old. It’s not the differences in passing time either. It’s the new ways I’ve learned to listen, hold hands, rejoice and share. I’m a bit swollen from it all.

My head yearns for more. The drive pushes me every morning to be productive, to not call it a day until I play my favourite songs whilst doing something tangible. I can’t describe how fast these days go by, how they tend to be so full of nothing that really matters, how some of it can be so selfish and lonely. In gaining more, I’ve lost a lot more, forgetting often that people can only bear what they can for a certain time. I’ve thought about others as well, how quick these people have grown, how far they’ve come. It’s mostly unthinkable yet very impressive.

Everyone has got nights they choose to sleep their worries till morning or drink it all away, “party it out” or just sit and think about them. I wish I was just like everyone, at least what aches would be much easier to bear.

My truth is living what I’m happy for. Watching the people around me and far as well growing at their own pace. My truth is learning from others, learning these new ways to write, learning new ways in all and new survival instincts too. It’s self-distrusting but I hold unto myself most times unshakingly. It’s very pleasing in the end.

It will be the perfect kind of lie if I told you my strings were intact or that everyone enjoys my kind of rhythm. I wouldn’t be telling the truth either about my fingers, what they type to ex-friends and those who pretend to care. Sometimes, I want to scream at people who find their route back in Malanda’s words “I’ll tell you what I’ve been and it will scare you!!”. Sometimes I wish I knew how to perfectly play the savage role.

It can be frustrating not knowing who to run to, to dump all the noises in my head or whose shoulders to cry on when I lose my breathing to tears. I demand for myself every time moments like these occur, I become my own comforter. I most times ponder on how other girls just like me get through. It can be daunting. I forgive myself everytime it hits me that my happiness is in openness, it’s in little things, it’s in where I can connect tiny dots without role play, it’s where I’m not by myself.

How can life be this meaningful with so many complicated ways of passing and reading meaning into it?

How can these people lie about coping with meaningful connections without breaking a little?

Talking.

 

 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.

 

Outgrowing the wild

IMG_2766

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.

On ageing

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

img_1257

 

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.

Securing an undergraduate placement in the UK: my horror story.

I had long doubted my patience until the day I decided to get a gap year from university, working anywhere associated with what I’m currently studying. It’s been over 5 months since my final year started and over 8 since I got rejected by the organization I placed my last hope on. Part of the rejections I got made me embrace this final lap and part has been chaotic and has eventually pushed me to share this. I believe that there are quite a few or many students who would want to know this stage I didn’t quite conquer.

Firstly, I’m an international student and not to say that interviewers or most organizations or bodies that accept placement students discriminate against international students but let’s be real here. Any country whatsoever would consider taking theirs first before any other unless you are exceptionally suitable/ there isn’t any domestic student available to take that role, then you might just be lucky. Anyway, I had that in mind long before I even started cooking up a CV. Second year resumed September 2015 and my university already started putting up advertisements for the roles linked with Biomedical science, which is what I’m currently studying. It is a broad course involving various health and life sectors, therefore adverts were placed on student central (a learning and assessment medium for most universities in England) nearly everyday.

Some of the successful interviews I had gotten were partly due to the help my university (the University of Brighton) had  rendered. They helped get my CV to look more presentable and appropriate, they constantly sent direct emails to me whenever a new position came up, they always replied to most emails I sent and was always willing to give me advice whenever I needed help. That’s really what they can offer anyway, they can’t hand you a place!, don’t know about other universities but I’m speaking of mine.

Fast forward to when the application war began, bear in mind that 1st semester had  already started and I had 6 modules to cover, each with their coursework and examination so you can imagine keeping up with the stress. Most colleagues of mine weren’t interested, so it was a lot harder to share my pain or have them relate with me on something they were not interested in. I applied to quite a few number of pharmaceutical companies including GSK, Pfizer, Nestle and many more. Some would have you submit your application online, which usually takes a long time and after which you also need to do an online test or even several tests before you get an interview which is not even guaranteed. Pheew! GSK, I remember vividly, doing everything until it got to the online test, after a week or so, I got a nicely written rejection. I did apply also to organizations that supported health science and governmental bodies too, all to no avail. Some won’t even bother to leave you with a rejection, you’ll just be waiting for your saviour to come.  To be honest with you, until today, I can’t tell where my perseverance came from. I kept going with all the piles of rejection. It was really saddening.

After my first semester ended, I was able to convince two of my close friends to get a placement year, sharing with them the benefits and long term joy it would leave them. Thankfully, I had them with me for the rest of the application journey. We were told around April 2016 by our placement team that the NHS affiliated hospital (Royal County Sussex) here in Brighton would be putting up various positions, so we should create a totally different CV that complies to the roles that would be advertised, including in it our choices (ie the roles you wish to work in. For eg. haematology, histology etc). We were more than excited because it is commutable and their acceptance rate from our university is high from statistical indications and also not a lot of us were running for the positions.

This was my final hope so I wrote my CV more than three times, had it checked by different well read people and the placement team too and waited patiently for the D day. My friends did too. It was a few weeks before the exam, the advert came up on student central, I applied and waited. We three had gotten an email saying we got ourselves an interview. I was overly joyed and happier that it was the same day for the three of us. One week before my second semester examination, we had gone for the interview and we all came out smiling and hoping. I began to imagine myself even working there and all, you know how your hormones mess you up, yes! it did to me.

It took nearly a month before we got our feedbacks, my friends had called me with excitement that they had been accepted and they would be resuming soon, screaming that I should check my email, that they should have given me a place too. As I opened my email and read the first line, I just closed the whole link and started weeping. I literally weeped out loud. I felt stupid for having persevered the whole time and placing all that effort I should have focused on my studies on placement places I ended up not getting. I questioned what really interviewers wanted, lies? Till today I can’t really say.

Truth is, some people apply the first time and just get it and others are never lucky. I feel like the criteria for getting a place not just a placement place but for most jobs are not always considered and looked into. Most interviewees who end up not getting a place especially suitable candidates don’t always see fairness in recruitments. I believe a new system of accepting employees should be put in place and also placement applications shouldn’t feel like hell for students. More universities should have affiliates where they can  directly place students that choose to do one. I understand international students (me and the rest of them) here in the UK should know better when we signed up to come here to study that there are limited jobs and opportunities considering the population and how small in comparison the country is , but efforts should be made at least to have us secure affiliate places here or abroad with the fees we pay. Home students too.

This is my horror story.

Are there any questions you want to ask regarding this? Or thoughts you wish to share, let me know in the comment box below or email me using the contact form. Thank you.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.

What ‘they’ won’t tell you about failure.

Image result for failure in black and white

Picture gotten from-Bounceback

First of all, everyone preaches these days about success without addressing the odds of what’s likely to happen if it isn’t attained. Most times, people that fail to talk about failure have been winning their whole life and other times the rest are those that hide their failures or just don’t talk about them.

Before you think of turning down a decision, request or an action, the major force that propels you to drop it is the voice in your head saying “NO! I can’t do this because I’m afraid of not doing it right” or “NO! it’s not going to happen because I’ll end up failing anyway”. It’s never necessarily the fact that we can’t do it, but the thought that propels this fact.

Some of us have always been a substance of failure, or was born to be told that we’ll never make it. A few others just choose to settle with failing because it’s become a comfort zone over time. However, success has been constantly fed into our ears in every corner we seek for a push that no one really points out the effects of failing. Not to say that failing is a good thing when really we should be aiming for sky high, but to enlighten your mind on how failing appreciates success more and keeps it longer than those who haven’t had their first fall.

Here are what people don’t stress on when they talk about failure;

  • Nobody is immune to it- Even the greatest falls, those who are used to success fail. So, quit thinking that failure is for losers or to re-frame that, quit seeing yourself as one.
  • Failure gives value- Think of the last time you failed an exam or you were reprimanded by your boss about a meeting. You’ll tend to be more present, more attentive and willing to learn more than when you were about the life of getting it right all the time. Sometimes, failing makes you love what you really hate because of the focus you lay on it.
  • Failure is unmeasurable success not attained yet- Most legendary stories of people who went from nothing to elite were never told without the words “tried and tried again”, “Never gave up” “Hoped” “Failed”. Of course everyone’s success story is different but with most, you can read patterns that got them to where they got to. These are the principles that prepare you for the big deal. Therefore, I urge you to embrace failure if you find yourself in the position, accept it but never admit that you are.

Are there more things about failure that you think people really don’t emphasize on? Have you got any success story to share from having failed once or more than in your life? I’d love to know in the comment section dear reader. Thank you.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.

Resonance

I leave you these.

Share your favourite thought-provoking and mind/soul healing quotes in the comment section. You can also leave links to good reads, I’d really appreciate it. Thank you.

image1-8

image2-2

image3-1

image1-9

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

The magic in ‘first times’

I had an Asian friend who I had known for over a year leave me a goodbye note. On it, part of what she had written said “..it’s been a really great pleasure to have met you, my very first Negro friend”. To be totally honest with you, I had a rush of mixed feelings just reading that line. I laughed, got offended, laughed again, cried and ran out to give her a tight hug. Why? Firstly, I imagined being her only black friend out of the battalion of my kind we have in our city, Brighton. I also thought how naive she was not to know that calling me a ‘Negro’ was sort of offensive but I read that line again and laughed again “..my very first Negro friend”. At that moment it occurred to me that, I wasn’t going to see her again until fate or coincidence brings us back together. I thought of her presence for the past one year and how time loves goodbyes. I cried for a girl for the first time in my life.

Processed with VSCO with b5 preset

What am I insinuating?

You won’t know the feeling of magic until you experience something for the first time. It may not be like mine with someone triggering the effect, it may just be you creating and experiencing your own magic. Perhaps, the word ‘magic’ can be a bit too imaginative. Let’s call it a sensational feeling, one that renews your adrenaline. Think about the first time you had done/started something (esp. something that you love and chose to do). The feeling definitely doesn’t feel like the end of it, it doesn’t equate to the time it begins to grow weary, it’s so alive. That, sometimes is what pushes us to finish or continue, the thought of what and why we started. Sometimes the memory it leaves builds up and takes over our strength to carry through even when the initial thought is dead. The magic in ‘first times’ should be felt as often as the zeal you have for consistency.

When was the first time you decided to go for a walk, or probably read a book? When was the first time you chose to change your hair colour, take another route to work? When was the first time you gave something you cherish to the needy or leave someone random kind words? When was the first time you chose to meditate, to switch off and go offline for a while? When was the last time you told the people you cherish how much you appreciate and love them, the first time you hung out with people that are not in your class, race or even circle? These may all sound daunting or probably scary but believe me you, the feeling you get from ‘first times’ are more reviving than the consistent thing you’ve been doing your whole life.

So?

Get up! Go out! and experience your own magic! dear reader.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

Blogging series 6: Never have I ever

by Dyna Ekwueme

Image result for running away

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.

woman-565127_1920

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.