For millennials: 21

 

Journaling

IMG_3097

There is no warmth in waiting for the right time. The patience will sting harder than the truth you believe about holding on.

Misery becomes more appealing.

“may you be defined by your boldness in running through dry and dark cracks.”

I’d get into the bus sometimes, most times with my headphones banging loud music out its tiny speakers.

Sitting by windows is my favourite thing. My eyes get to count coloured and grey houses, watch trees and many other greens. I often begin to play rhythmic music in a lowered volume to feel the same feeling I get when watching good scenery movies. I deviate into solitude and just observe.

It is powerful.

The only regular thought I’ve known is home, it’s sometimes with me and other times I fear to think of its broken tone.

I’ve watched myself grow with strangers that I call friends. I’ve been shaken by subtle disagreements imposed by the universe in openness.

I seldom believe we are all here, just making history and not living well enough. We will all die surviving with or without purpose.

“In love, the purest of our souls’ manifest.

In love, we succumb to humility and fear without coercion.

In love, we tell our stories in ways we wish they existed.”

Can you read the signs through my saggy eye bags?

I’m knackered by pressure from my wants and the wants I’m expected to want.

I heard mum’s voice on WhatsApp call and she sounded like 50 hasn’t been good to her. I’ve been thinking of her in a sweet way lately. In a way I would spoil her with happier days if she were here.

“Be generous and kind with what you bear to instil

I’m one and a half page of an A4 gone and I’m still wasting words on consciousness. This is what it feels like to fight forces that you never chose, fighting constantly.

You will live, you will live

You will write, you will write

You will love, you will love

You will break, you will break

You will heal, you will heal

You will die again and again before you learn to live to die.

“Be offended by your zeal to live because thinking of your death will remind you of here always”

 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.

Advertisements

Oh sweet mama!

img_0449

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.

 

Blogging Series 1: Politics in chaos, but hope must prevail (Great Britain)

by Laurence Howell.

Anyone even briefly analyzing the global political landscape over the last year or so could be easily forgiven for not being filled with too much optimism for our future, with many paying close attention to the recent discovery of a second Earth, eagerly waiting to see how much a single ticket will be.

Image result for british political protest

Picture gotten from-Britishprotest

Firstly, though I thought it would be interesting to analyse France’s recent banning of the Burkini and look at some of the flawed reasoning for it. The French government claim that the burqa and burkini are a security risk as they allow citizens to be concealed, but the same isn’t being said for motorcycle helmets or habits of other religions. To me this is a religious profiling of every Muslim, as a dangerous extremist that the public should be paranoid of being blown up by, perhaps the event that this paranoia stems from is the mass shootings in Paris on November 13th of 2015. Isis claimed responsibility for the attack, but the West’s response to this has been extremely reactionary and evidenced double standards. Whilst pretty much the entirety of the leaders of EU member states came together to mourn this terrible attack, which it was, no such unity was shown with the victims of the July 3rd 2016 Karrada bombing in Baghdad. This attack was also carried out by Isis. Since the Paris attacks the West have instigated a bombing strategy in Syria in response, this to me shows the callousness and hypocrisy of many Western political leaders, who empathize and mourn the dead but pursue policies in response that result in even more innocent death.

Someone who stands opposed to the actions of these Western leaders is one who gives hope to me and many others, Jeremy Corbyn. A conviction politician, who guides his policies on whats best for the people of the world rather than what will make him look like a strong a powerful leader and gain support in a largely corrupt media. Arrested for his anti-apartheid views in 1984, frequently criticized for his support of political negotiations in Ireland rather than continuing the violence and a staunch opponent of the Iraq war. Corbyn’s humanitarian principles are something which are seen as the antithesis to a lot of modern day leaders. The smear campaign that has been run by a number of Labour MP’s, predominantly run out of Alistair Campbell’s PR office, creates the image in my mind of “don’t promise that you’ll make us look bad”. But despite all that’s been thrown at him Corbyn by the media and those like Eagle and Benn, he still hasn’t resigned and is fighting strong against Owen Smith in the leadership election. In fact, one of the biggest victories is moving the party to the left as the opposition candidate has had to adopt many of the same policies as him in order to appeal to the growing membership who support socialist principles. One thing is clear, the membership are tired of spin and career politicians and so if they elect Owen Smith he must prove those such as myself who tar him with this brush and stick to the positions he has claimed during the leadership election, otherwise he will face mass scrutiny from them.

Disclaimer: This piece was originally written by Laurence Howell and this is one of the media he chose to air his personal opinion regarding British politics. No parts were added by me or anyone. 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

The ‘what if’s’ of an idiot

Laughter brings pain where sore wounds are salted.

The earth is arguably not round or spherical amidst all extinct constellations.

Flowers never wither, they never die, they grow from pollen.

We weed out the humanity in us and leave free-floated spirits to wander

I know all this, I know everything but nothing

I know I’m not sensible, I’m an idiot

But;

  • What if you are never wrong as opposed to the wrong you did?
  • What if there were 400 days in a year and people are actually short-lived by their fellow people?
  • What if colours only made us blind and black and white was our only identification?
  • What if reality was abstracts and vice versa?
  • What if your only hope is in yesterday?
  • What if animals ruled us by making us rule them?
  • What if being left-handed was bliss, disabled divine, blinded grace and not known validated?
  • What if being supernatural was the only natural?
  • What if the earth is a curse and the people in it too?
  • What if you were told that the last of your kind left is you?
  • What if our believes, opinions and perceptions are deceptive?
  • What if our thoughts and imaginations are like that of this idiot, me?

Crosses are not made up of two crossed planks, their meaning put existence to their nature. I would only twist your mind in disbelieve but your beliefs would be shaken anyways.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2015.

Deja Vu #18

I knew I was once a captive

But I still am

On the verge of my echo

Which hands a ripple effect

Cosy but never rosy at the edge

Clinging to my sense of feeling.

Who can tell how many times it concurred?

With my past and now?

The populace it stole their minds,

Engrossed with pathetic thoughts?

Some had lived twice’ thrice in it

But the rest never quotes the picture it paints.

“I’ve been born twice” they alter

On the same earth we commute

Would you thank me if I said

I were your good and bad mystery?

Replay your memoir, See if I were true

So you’ll write again and remember today.

This poem was written last year, June. It’s rewritten today for reflection. meditate and reflect on what is and what next. Hope you had a graceful Saturday? Share what you’re thinking below. Thank you.

#TheGoodInMe

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2015.