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Be Free…VLOG

BE FREE

May I live
Unafraid to breathe
Free from a choke-hold
That becomes a stronghold
May I live
Unafraid to live
Clinging to my expectations
With feral desperation

May I share space
Unafraid of being encased
Free from condemnation of race
That becomes a strong base
Purple, White, Olive, Black and every hue within
May I share space
Knowing that we are first a human race
…And all blood are red in this place.

May I speak of belief
Unafraid and in relief
Free from contentious eyes of disbelief
That becomes thresholds of grief
May I wear my mask of belief
Understanding that to achieve
Peace would be a welcome reprieve
…Which we must seek to retrieve.

May I love you
Unafraid to be bound to you
Free from censors of broken whispers
That becomes harbingers of cold shivers
May I love freely my love
Unafraid to expose my naked bust
Knowing that in you lies my trust
Encased in the warm embrace of your love.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Creative Writing · Hope · Life · Poetry/Poems · Social Issues · Writing · Writing 101

May I Share With You?…

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LIVING FREE…

May I live
Unafraid to breathe
Free from a choke-hold
That becomes a stronghold
May I live
Unafraid to live
Clinging to my expectations
With feral desperation

SHARING FREELY…

May I share space
Unafraid of being encased
Free from condemnation of race
That becomes a strong base
Purple, White, Olive, Black and every hue within
May I share space
Knowing that we are first a human race
…And all blood are red in this place.

BELIEVE FREELY…

May I speak of belief
Unafraid and in relief
Free from contentious eyes of disbelief
That becomes thresholds of grief
May I wear my mask of belief
Understanding that to achieve
Peace would be a welcome reprieve
…Which we must seek to retrieve.

LOVING FREELY…

May I love you
Unafraid to be bound to you
Free from censors of broken whispers
That becomes harbingers of cold shivers
May I love freely my love
Unafraid to expose my naked bust
Knowing that in you lies my trust
Encased in the warm embrace of your love.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Writing 101, Day 5 Freedom

Devotions · Hope · Inspiration - Motivation · Musings · Poetry/Poems · Weave that Dream

Praise!…

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Praise gives us lots of Grace.

Some boundless strength to run the Race.

So, let’s keep up the Pace,

Voices we lift, as we increase the Base.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord! Psalm 150:6

A link to my neighbours/Community · Creative Writing · Family · Humor - Bellyful of laughter · Life · Short Stories Series

Bridegroom Wanted! Urgently!…

Groom wanted

Tess stares around her tiny, sparsely furnished apartment in contemplation.

Her last purchase, a lovely ornate antique mirror, found during one of her forays in a delightful rustic gem of a store, stood in a corner, reflecting the soft glow of the early morning sun.

Time to go foraging for more things, she thinks. Those antique stores sell all manners of lovely odds and ends with lots of character and a story lurking somewhere in the background. ”That hand carved chest of drawers was simply gorgeous.” ”I wonder if it’s still available?”

Slowly but surely, her bohemian taste in furnishing her apartment will be a signature of hard won independence. It had been a major feat to move out of her parents home.

“Who still lives with their parents in their late 20’s, in this day and age?”

Her thought of age draws her like magnet to the mirror.

She stares a bit sullenly at her reflection, pursing her lips as she assessed herself from side to side.

Her figure is still arresting. Flat taut tummy and nicely shaped rump. Lovely peaks – check √

”Not bad at all, if I must say so myself, she thinks in her head.”

”I may not be drop dead and roll over gorgeous but I sure look good!”

”Those heated gazes of appreciative eyes when I traipse down the street cannot be a lie”, she reasons.

”Yet here I am a week to the big Three 0 and no flicker of romance in my life”, her musings carried on.
A critical look at the mirrored face does not yield a wrinkle.”Not yet”, she utters thankfully.

”Not a birthday to look forward to.” ”Going over to the house, mama, as usual will be looking at me in expectation of news as if I can conjure a husband with the wave of a wand.”

”Hmm! Maybe, it’s really time to try this online dating!” ”I will talk to Kate to give me the low-down.”

It seems to be going alright with her new online boo – after many disasters, but like they say, you may need to kiss several frogs before you find your prince….

To be continued..

From my neighbours chest of drawers, the interesting things that I found:

A tribute to The ageing from Lavanya’s chambers.

The mind of a child from A Momma’s view

Without Hope all is lost.

Writers block dissolver system found via the stables of Wallace Cass

Fascinating peeks of India’s holy city of Benares discovered through the auspices of Christian Mihai.

Just a few 5 daily reminders for you.

I found this article of very the intelligent idiot humourous. 😉

These crafts are truly delightful 🙂

I really lub dis one shown to me by Itsgoodtobecrazysometimes really warmed my heart.

As much as possible, I tried not to allow my mind and heart to be affected by racial inflections but sometimes you read something that tugs at you like when you are born black.

That’s it from me folks.

It’s a good day today. Be blessed and enjoy your weekend.

Who would like to dance with me? Puhleeeez 😉

https://youtu.be/CS84P16k28E?t=102

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Fiction · Short story

Just whose type are we?.. A short Story

Interracial

Meera dipped the second stick into the collection of urine and within minutes the line appeared again. The instant pregnancy test read positive a second time.

Her suspicions were firmly confirmed. Butterfly flutters of excitement filled her stomach. She couldn’t wait to tell Kevin her good news. It would be a nice surprise, she hoped. He would be back in two days from his visit to his hometown – New Orleans. He went to see his ailing mom. It was not news that she wanted to share on the phone. His expressions mattered. Apparently, their excitement at graduating summa cum laude and having jobs already lined up at the prestigious Texas medical center has yielded dividends. This was a bit unplanned, but that is the likely result of getting carried away.

She fretted a bit over how it would affect her new job. She wondered if she would make a good mother. For some reason, she felt sure Kevin would make a great dad. For a huge guy, he was very gentle and caring. Meera daydreamed. She could visualize the adorable bundle of joy. The baby’s features would be a merge of Kevin’s dark handsome looks and her delicate Asian look. For a moment, she paused a bit on how her baby would be classified, but she did not ponder seriously on that question. This is America, where everything is almost possible. Her child/children would have the best upbringing that they could possibly afford to give them; and they would be loved very much – that was the most important thing.

They had dated secretly for a while but she was tired of pretending that he was just a friend in front of her friends and family. Their love affair had blossomed from their respected friendship as two medical students studying together. They were both very intelligent and supportive of each other. They found they shared a whole lot in common except their race, and religion, but Meerah felt that these issues were not insurmountable.

Kevin, made her feel very cherished, and most times, in the duration of their relationship, he deferred to her a lot. His handsome, calm and confident demeanor had left her tongue-tied at the onset of their study, but his dogged, and positively infectious attitude had finally managed to draw her closer. She knew she had found her soul mate.

It was time to introduce their love to the World. She hoped her parents would grow to love Kevin as much as she did. Especially when their grandchild arrives. Her parents are enlightened and educated. Her father is a talented surgeon whilst her mom who has been a home-maker all through was quite abreast with the changes in time.

Kevin’s reaction was as expected and more. He was ecstatic but expressed his concern about her family. Assuring him that her family would come around, she advised that they break the news to them as a team over the weekend.

Saturday evening’s dinner ended in a fiasco. Kevin had been to the home of the Misra’s before, but that was in a party of other friends. They had come for Meera’s birthday as well as the festival of light – Diwali and the festival of colors – Holi. Now seated as the only stranger in their midst was not a very comfortable feeling. Meera’s mother did not appear quite as warm as before and Dr. Misra was very polite to the point of distant.

He liked curry, masala and all the Indian dishes that he had tasted in the past, but tonight he could hardly swallow a bite. The meal was barely over, when Meera decided to break the news of their engagement to her parents.

Her mom flew up in surprise, knocking over the flask of black tea, her brother flew into a tirade and the situation went downhill very fast. Tears, table banging and hot invective exchange of words in Hindi flew up and down the room. It was chaotic. Kevin could not understand what was being said but knew that it did not sound good. Dr. Misra asked him to leave and out of respect he left with a lot of unease.

The heated argument went on with a lot of acrimony and blame passed from one end to the other. Mrs. Misra chided her husband for not supporting her proposal to find a husband for Meera earlier than now. Now she was about to lead them into a mess. How would she live it down, she wondered.

”You cannot mean to marry him?” she queried her daughter harshly.love is color blind

”I do mama, I love him” Meera replied.

”No you cannot”, she continued. ”We always marry our own”.

”What is wrong with him”? ”Just who is our own”? Meera wailed. This was not the reaction she had expected. She knew they would be taken aback but not this difficult.

”Deepak, please talk to your daughter”, Mrs. Misra implored her husband.

”Well, I am pregnant and I would like to marry my baby’s father”, Meera declared adding fuel to the fire.

Her mother squeaked very loudly and sank in the couch in a half swoon.

Her brother promised to kill Kevin.

The dog ran and hid behind the big potted plant.

Sanjay’s wife Amira shrank into her seat like a frightened mouse, her kajal darkened eyes standing out starkly in her face.

The only person who seemed to maintain a semblance of control was Dr. Misra, the only sign of his distress was the increased tick of the veins by his temples.

Meera stormed upstairs to her room. She fumed as she thought through the whole scenario. She had never really liked the clannish, caste systems of her people, where the discrimination even amongst her people was so visceral. Their caste system was so wickedly divisive that she still could not understand why some people were considered ”Dalits – untouchables”.

She hated the arranged marriages of two strangers; her brothers marriage was a case in point. Amira, her sister in law never looked happy and never spoke much. She suspected that Sanjay was being too overbearing towards his wife. She suspected that he beat her, but nobody said anything.

She could not understand her parents, especially her mothers vehemence towards Kevin. They got on fairly well with their African American neighbors and the handsome Sudanese couple that taught in the school district. She was glad her orientation was not like theirs. It would be a rough path to take, but if running off to be with Kevin would be the answer, then so be it.

Mrs. Misra calmed down and started plotting. She knew that antagonizing her daughter would probably incite Meera’s rebel heart into eloping with that black boy. If it was a nice white boy, maybe, it would be easier to condone. But this! It was unacceptable. Now she could see why Meera always took her recent supportive stance against the police for what she perceived as a persecution of the black race. The whole situation was still incredulous but she had to thread with caution. She still felt angry with Deepak for failing to heed her advice, but as a mother, she had to take charge and correct things before they got out of hand. They will be off to Mumbai as soon as she can make plausible arrangements.

There was an uneasy calm in the house. It seemed as if everyone including the dog tip-toed around each other the following day. Having thought through her plan, Mrs. Misra made her daughters favorite soup, which was strongly laced with herbal condiments to stimulate uterine bleeding and take care of business. She knocked on Meera’s door, waving a flag for truce and invited her to come and eat with her.

Thankfully and mindlessly consuming the steaming, tasty bowl of broth with chapati, Meera listened to her mothers chatter.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Hope · Love · Musings · Uncategorized

No color for these young ones….

winning

It was a pleasure to sit and watch my youngest and his team mates work together during their field day in school to eventually come out tops in their little unit with several points ahead.

The previous night, he had been sniffling with a touch of cold and like a mother hen, I had fretted that it might get worse and that he may not be able to participate in his field day and he kept asking for my assurance that he would be fine, so that he can support his team to do well. Well, thankfully, mummy the magician did her best, and here we are.

Amongst that cell of small human bodies, I saw excitement, I saw camaraderie, I saw joy, I saw teamwork and cooperation, but with my jaundiced eye as an adult I also saw black, white, olive and everything in between.

A lot of shrieks and squeals were associated with each score or loss, tugs of war were won and lost, a tear or two shone in bright eyes, but above all things I saw love.

winning 2

No dissension of voices did I hear, no untoward discrimination did I perceive nor segregation did I observe amongst these young ones. They all supported each other to achieve common goals. I saw bonding and friendship built possibly to last a life time, who knows?

If only we, the adults will hold our peace and not pollute the minds of these little ones, who in their simple-minded innocence are accepting of each other as equals without differentiation.

I remember back in the days when I was growing up as a young lady in the Eastern region of Nigeria, a community of fiercely traditional but hardworking people, I had dared to deviate from the norm to date a non-black gentleman.

I can still recall the askance attitude of supposedly concerned citizens, the gradual sidelining of some so- called friends who had felt that association with me would automatically taint them, the furore that had been associated with my boldness and the rottenness of my behavior for having the audacity to publicly date a white man and the pretentious support of two-faced friends who helped to stoke the fire of my dare-devil reputation; but in all that, what mattered most to me was how I was treated by whoever I chose to date.

It was more important to me to be cared for and respected by the man I chose to date than to fit into a miserable relationship for political correctness, so as not to rock the boat.

I came to realize that those who sought to mold me into their idea of where I should fit in, did not in any way contribute an iota of positivity to my life, nor was their effort done because they sought my happiness.

I got to understand that most time’s, achieving greatness and living your life to the fullness of its capacity, meant ignoring some naysayers, pushing boundaries and adamantly refusing to fit into the round holes created by the limitations of other people’s expectations and simply remaining a square, but happy peg.

I look back in wry amusement and ask myself if I would I do the same today, assuming the clock was rewound? Oh yes! In a heartbeat! I have not changed much in the broadness of my thinking but have matured enough to cut off any foolishness and distracting noise that drains my energy. I choose to live generously and my generosity starts with me.

Life has taught me that the best people in life are not based on their race or otherwise. They are just humans who seek to give their best, changing the World around them in their own little way positively, one day at a time. They are not occupied in segregating their World in little batches of color for reasons better known by them.

Now for my progeny, I will encourage them to see and treat all men as equals. I will encourage them not to  see in absolute colors or to be color blind, but to look for the fine shades of gray and pastels in between because that is the way the creator chose it to be; the beauty is in the variety.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha