I became one of those who disappeared…

I became one of those who disappeared…
diving into the belly of disjointed thoughts
malaise, discontent and limbo

I became one of those who disappeared
my voice broken and rusty
like an old unused tap on an abandoned site

I became one of those who disappeared
saving all my energy for survival
battling existential crisis

I became one of those who disappeared…
from out of the deep a voice called
head raised, I stare into the sun

it’s not yet over…

© Jacqueline 2019

Image credit – Pixabay

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Greener Pastures…

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Hazy eyes’ peered through the glass, gazing at acres of palm trees disappear as they sped past. The bleak look in them grew with each mile covered, widening the gap between her and home, between the known and unknown.

They told her that she is heading for better things; for greener pastures. They told her that she’s the only hope for the family, they told her many things…

Yes, Akunnia wanted to help the family. Indeed, she truly wanted to be a saving grace. Yet, she couldn’t stop the incessant trickle of hot tears and the lump in her throat from getting bigger with each speed bump the van took as it gradually wound its way away from the dusty paths of her village to the big city.

How did greener pastures leave her feeling like a chattel used to repay family debts to a grouchy tradesman well-known for his poor treatment of others? The weight of her looming situation sat heavy on her slight sixteen-year shoulders.

 

The Silent Ones’…

she turned
unwillingly against her will,
by the stroke of faith
and lottery played
by virtue of birth

she became
one of those diligent
bowed, sad women
who live on a long course
of docile, thankless servitude

she lived 
in fear of showing,
saying or doing the wrong thing
her desires swallowed
dreams doused and denied

she smiled
pretending to have
no misgivings about life
but when you looked closely
silent desperation stood stark and pathetic

© 2019 Jacqueline

 

I know many women like this. Maybe you know one too. They are all around you. Maybe you used to be one of them.

When the corpse is not ours…

In my place, it is commonly said that “when they carry the corpse of someone you don’t know, it simply seems like the pallbearers are carrying an old box.” To make the understanding clearer, when we are insulated and are not directly affected by wicked acts of fellow men, the outcomes of those actions barely cause us to pause and think.

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Until we all as humans recognize that everybody has a right to life whatever race or colour they may be, whatever religion they choose to believe in, whatever gender or sexual affiliation they lean to, whatever tongue they may speak in…

until we as humans realize that no one is superior to the other and that all men are created equal – men used figuratively in this sense…

until we humans understand that the migration of people has been happening from the beginning of time and whether we like it or not, mixing of races and change is inevitable…

until we as individuals begin to question our love for hatred, bigotry, division and discrimination, prejudice and intolerance…

until we start to hold the toes of our leaders to the fire and hold them accountable for their utterances and misbegotten directions…

until we lose the cloak of apathy that seems to have pervaded our minds and taken place in our hearts where empathy should be…

until we as individuals search our souls and ask ourselves if we are truly living and reflecting the goodness that we want to see in the world…

despicable and horrific occurrences like mass shooting will continue to gather momentum…

and who knows…

maybe one day, that old rickety box might very well become ours to bear.

Not Tomorrow…

We take our given days for granted, 24 hours fly past so fast that most times weeks and months all meld together into a blur.

They go by whilst we stay planning for all the things that we will do tomorrow which we could have done today.

We plan for the big moments when all lines will fall into the right place, that we tend to forget that one day when we grow old together, we will remind each other about these days that seemed ordinary and uneventful, yet when we take a good look, we will find chockful heart-tugging memories wedged in-between these days.

Your best life is now, not tomorrow.

Better Out, Than In – Word Wednesday…

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Very few of our problems are solved alone. If you cannot share your deepest concerns with a trusted friend, seek counselling to help you shift the burden of thoughts that weigh you down.

Most times, all it takes for us to feel better and to get a grip of things is a pair of listening ears – and a stranger’s ears can be therapeutic.

Wisdom is to never be afraid to ask and seek for support.