Words left unsaid

I received the news last week,

I shed a tear and cried hysterically,

I never understood why so much anger,

Instead of remembering the bad things,

I remembered only the good.

I wrote these words to you,

To know how much you meant to me,

Your hearty laughter still rings,

Your silly jokes and sacred moments,

You never told me why it hurt.

I was looking forward to meeting you,

To close all the hurt and ache,

To tell you that it doesn’t matter no more,

To show you my hearts scars disappeared.

I am happy we talked after our breakup,

I finally learnt to forgive you,

I learnt to let go of the words you said,

I know what it means to freak out.

As I look into the sea today,

I think about your words and emotions,

You made everyone in a room light up when you walked in,

You were the definition of laughter, grace, attitude, sacrifice.

I still cannot believe you are gone,

I still cannot believe it

The sadness grips my heart.

So many words left unsaid,

I shall tell them to your kid one day.

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You didn’t break me! To the ones who sexually abused me. #metoo

#metoo hashtag has swept almost the whole world after the Weinstein scandal. This made me reflect back and think of all the times I have been molested, abused, harassed or even publicly shamed.

Although I recently learned how to come out and share my story, still I only managed to speak out privately. I am working on healing part of this journey and experience.

I remember laying down in bed, telling him how my first experience was when I was four-five years old. I remember as if it was yesterday. My cousin was older, he was around seventeen at that time.

He would put some painful muscle joint menthol called ‘Robb’ inside my vagina and rub it all over my vagina. This shit was super painful and I developed painful sores. I couldn’t understand why he did that to me but I was supposedly not to tell anyone.

He also did put sharp sticks, salt or even african pepper inside my vagina. At one point he put sugar and licked it off. I was five then.

Sometimes I want to feel pain and cry myself for three or four days thinking why would a human being do this to a child. Yet, when the story of Weinstein broke, I felt anger and hatred towards those who said shame on those women who didn’t speak out. I hated these people with the same emotions like I hate my cousin and every man who is abusive in any form.

Of course it is easy for them to say why didn’t these women speak out? It takes courage to speak out. It took me courage to say what happened to me, first to my ex boyfriend because he expected me to be a virgin.

It took me even much more to tell of the stories recently. Sometimes, I told my story laughing because I have cried for years reliving all those memories. I still cry today.

#metoo did not only open my wounds, but also made me remember all those instances that I wanted to kill myself as a child because of this.

Especially when an uncle also abused me. I got dick in my mouth when I was eight. Plunging all his load inside me and telling me not to tell anyone. I obeyed and never said anything.

Next in the line was a neighbours son who twice forced me to kiss him as he touched and pinched my vagina. Of course, he threatened me not to tell anyone or else my family would lose access to their toilet (latrine). My family did not have the money to dig a latrine and therefore depended on our neighbour’s. George would pinch my nipples everytime he would meet me and I said nothing. I was still eight years old.

Already at nine years old, I was already molested more than twenty times by family members, a neighbour’s son, schoolmates and one time a church youth.

It was also at nine years, that I felt broken and made some puppies lick my vagina. I still remember this incident. I would put sugar into my vagina, just like my cousin did, and make our puppies lick the sugar off. I am glad they didn’t bite off my clitoris. Even though, my clitoris was already in danger of being taken away by the tradition of the community I lived in, as they practised Female Genital Mutilation.

I carry so much pain and anger inside me and I hope one day, children will live in a world where they do not have to face this. It is my hope, that one day, when women have been abused and harassed, nobody will ask them why they did not speak out.

Today, I salute those who spoke out about sexual harassment and abuse. You have no idea what strength and courage it gives me.

To many who read this, do not pity me but instead, feel happy with me today and as I dry away my tears, let out with me a big sigh of relief.

They didn’t break me.

#metoo

Run away

I share my pain just the same way I share my joy.

I am happy and sad at equal measures.

The same intensity of my happiness is the same intensity of my sadness.

When I get to the level, I do push people I care about away.

I do not know how to love then.

I am not sure why I am fighting for something I will never have.

Why this pain? Why this torture?

Sometimes I hate myself for falling into your charms.

I despise myself for being in love yet being with other.

Lost in the forest of affection and doubt.

I reach out to those who have no idea what it feels like to love openly.

I seek them out from their hiding and laugh at myself

Is this all you’ve got woman?

Now run away from your shell and break the spell

Run away

Last lap

Finally I did it

For all the ones who couldn’t make it

For those who found themselves in a scary pit

I traveled a road so far and bumpy

I kept the love so deep and sacred

I never felt like I did before and never will

For my complicated mind needed his reassurance

Such deep emotions and troublesome life

Yet relief sought me out fast

Voices within myself telling me to grow up

Eyes staring at me wanting me to end

I ended the suffering at the final lap

I made peace with the unknown

Jumped into a new wagon of hope

For hope is what is left to love

For such dreams still are alive deep inside

Astray they will go when I lose way

But faith shall always return me to love

Such are feelings of crippled orgasm and libido

Cravings of wild orgasms and torture

Salivate at the presence of disguised witches

For seeing through those eyes is deep enough

To understand why it is the way it is

Selectively surging and faking caress

Escaping a troubled mind

Discomfort cropping in like a thief

Regenerating the will to love and care

Oh how I want to live and learn more

Especially in my last lap to life

Fear of loving

Why should it matter,

When your heart is disturbed,

When your mind thinks of nothing else,

When your eyes have unshed tears,

Tears ready to burst into overflowing rivers,

What have I got?

Fear of being myself,

Fear of loving and caring,

Fear of twitching and beeping,

But all these feelings for what?

Sometimes it is just too hard to admit

Too hard to see what is right and wrong

Pressured to have nothing but truth

Pressure to be nothing but lies

Conditioned to hurt and not care

But for what?

Why can’t we love each other the way we know best?

Why is it a game?

When does it stop or start?

How do we make it work?

What is there for you and I?

What is there for the ones you love?

Help me understand why now

I get thrown below the waters

Sometimes makes me feel absolute mad and I drown

I think I am not worthy of your affection

Did I just self pity myself?

Made myself small, huh

Oh no, I am losing my mind

I had it altogether until then

Today I crumble

Next time a young lady like me will be in the same boat

Probably scared shit of herself and her future

Scared of her betrayal and guilt

How the world goes round

Let me not give up now

I tell myself nicely to cheer up

I won’t disagree with my feelings

It feels like shit when you confess

When you are afraid to love and be loved without conditions

I rest now

Life is a mystery

Sunk in a deepest hole

I feel like the world is crumbling down on me,

I do not know why I feel invisible,

Scarred by the emotions of others,

Gouged by the sadness of some,

I just want all this pain to go away

All of it

I have felt alone in these years

But never this alone

It is pointless trying to be myself

To feel, to let go and be happy

When all that they will see in you

Are lies, pretense after pretense

How can you rectify such betrayal?

How can I sit across and pretend not to have feelings

Why would they not understand and see that you love them anyways

Why do you even have to try and push yourself to hurt her feelings

To make me know that it is known

What it does to me is completely crazy

I have no words of my own

I stumble and fall and get back up

I am scared and choose to hide and not come out

Locked in my room and afraid that the world might see me

I question every friendship that I make and sick and tired of all the bullshit,

The bullet went right through my eyes and I cannot see anymore,

I am blinded more than I could ever think and know,

It is time to say it, to claim myself

If I didn’t have feelings for her I wouldn’t care

If I didn’t have feelings for everyone I touch I wouldn’t really care if it was known

If I didn’t have something to lose I wouldn’t care

I want to scream so hard and so loud

Nobody will hear me

Oh no, is this when people say they are depressed?

Could I be depressed?

I just know that I am in a deep hole now

Sunken so deep that I cannot see the light

Serenity

Suck me into the woods,

Where I hear no more sounds,

To jog and jump in the morning light,

To find my strength squashed.

Dance with me into the morning light,

Where I find my heart shredded in pieces,

And ask of whom these deeds are,

To find my sacred peace.

Stare into my eyes full of life,

Where you will find the perfect radiance,

And forget thee our mutual consent,

To seek the lost time we had.

Cover me with your lovely hands,

Where you shall disguise the hurt and pain,

And creep cowardly into the night

To dance with the gods that favour you.

Her bones, my bones

Those bones. Tired and fragile.

They have seen hunger, pain and suffering.

They have also supported heavy body and soul carrying huge amount of love that knows no end

Those bones you see fragile have shaped your face

Those bones you despise have uttered many words you never heard

I touched many bones but never have I touched these ones

Her bones tell me the story of the one who waited for a light in the end of the tunnel

Her bones speak of hurt and torture

Her bones shackle and crack without a sound

They part in ways she can never understand

The tiny little fractures and interconnectedness of a life well lived

I cannot fully comprehend why fertility even matters

For when they were fertile her womb was carved in stone and spears

For when they meant something, the world despised her with hate and anger

For when she danced with pain stricken face, her lover loathed her

But the narrative has to stand still

Perception and fulfillment in one line waiting to be served

Hurt and love on the other line waiting to nag

Sun streaming through the window and her bones stretch

Making that tiny sound

Alas! Freedom is here for those who want it

Whatever makes us who we are for the world to see

Naked we lay waiting for devotion

Times for laughter and for kindness

It seems hard nut to crack

She cannot leave, he cannot leave

We all live in this crazy world

Live, cry, laugh and beat it all

For nobody’s gonna save you from yourself

I wept

I weep today because of the child with no shoes,

I weep because of the poor woman crying,

They took her children and shot them,

She cried and asked Jesus what it meant to be poor,

She mourned for the loss of her son shot by a stray bullet,

Shot by the ones who were meant to protect her,

I wept and mourned with her,

Went on a hunger strike with her,

I stared at my screen and didn’t write a thing,

Wondering how on earth people can be cruel to others,

Her wails made me think deeply,

They tore my heart and shred my skin,

I can still hear my mourning and screaming,

Only because she was from another ethnicity

Only because she dared to speak,

And now the government turned on her,

They called her children criminals

They said the police would deal with the criminals,

Her criminal child is ten years old

Her other criminal child is six

They claim they were going to rob a bank

I dare to speak

I will be hunted down on social media

Media is gagged and they dare not tp speak,

Because they were told not to

I am left mourning and crying

Tempted to ask this Jesus just like the woman,

Why he would allow such to happen

My people are abused and murdered

Just because they are different

I weep for the woman

I weep for my children

For what reason would I ever give them

To understand why they would do this to a child?

I weep.

To dance free and naked

Too many rules.

Too many women conforming to have some sort of protection, financial or physical. To have approval that they are beautiful or sexy or wanted. To belong to someone or to be valued through their work as wives or girlfriends.

When the patriarchal society considers you to be less deserving of their love or protection. To those whose brains are wired differently, fear always creeps in. Fear of ending up alone because those are the people you’ve known as family or friends for a long time.

I could live an entire lifetime without finding out who I am. That’s my choice. It excites me to find feelings that I never felt before. To ask questions I never dared to ask. To dream something I never thought would be possible.

I am the girl who has broken all the rules in both conservative and liberal societies. I wanted to date, love and be loved differently. I escaped the closed minded status quo. I learnt different versions of love and to be loved. I learnt to feel jealous too.

I think of mama sometimes. How she could never escape the violence or the abuse. If only she had a choice like I do now, she would be open and say Goodbye to the sad life she once knew. Was it really necessary only that her husband was allowed to be polygamous but her not?

Or perhaps become invisible. I remember once she tried to run away, and somehow she realized there was nowhere she could hide and she thought about her children.

But I did escape the circle of poverty and traditions. I ran as fast as I could. I didn’t want that life for myself. I just wanted to be free.

To live and make my own choices, good or bad and learn from the consequences. I left the village to the city. And then left the city to other cities. And then left the other cities to other countries around the world.

Running from the madness made me happier, bold and taught me never to look down on myself. I knew I would never lack money or means to take care of me and my family that I left back, as it was my responsibility. I also know my story is not unique.

So today, when someone asks me what is it in for me? I rather not answer them for they don’t understand the bigger story. They don’t understand the ways of love. They know only of a single story.

I can live through anything. Isn’t life about that? I look myself in the mirror and know that I made the right choice despite the consequences and the circumstances.

Knowing that I can live with the loneliness and isolation. Knowing that I am fighting for that daughter or son of the future. Knowing that my insecurities are those that other women like me all over the world share. Knowing that my heart and emotions are not for sale.

Because I represent a system that cannot tie me down to the narrative of the status quo. Because what drives me daily is to be an example to those who cannot escape and cannot endure what I have.

What drives me is to be a hope to my next generation of strong women who take the drivers seat.

I will go back strong and certain that the narrative will and must change. And i will be mad, angry and uncontrollable. Because no girl child deserves one story.

But I will also dance to the nice rhythm from the drums while the African sun bites through my skin.

I will dance naked to the sounds of the crickets and walk with my lovely breasts out in the open knowing that I love my womanhood. Knowing that my beauty, passion, free mindedness is pure and cannot be tied down.

Peace.