I am labelled
Because I speak with spasmodic repetition of syllables
Words in my heart, out my mouth they tumble
To put in coherence becomes a struggle
So I fumble.
I try again till I pronounce "bu-bu-bu-bble"
Till I make sense of the words I juggle.
I'm not upset
Though I long to see the sunset
The colour of my skin I do not know
For lack of options I go with the flow
I do not sway
Everyday my stick hits the walkway
Searching for obstacles in my vicinity
I brave the odds, I exercise my virility.
In a crowd I am jostled
From right to left I hobble
A condition without remedy
A fixture in stand up comedy
The sound of the laughter
A contrast to my life's chapter
I swallow my misgivings
On bent legs I earn a living.
I long to be wanted
Appreciated
Celebrated
But with your eyes I'm castigated
Relegated
Rejected
Most times isolated
A price paid for a condition not I created.
Some days I snap. I cry. I curse.
I mourn the day my world went off course.
And when I'm done I mop it up.
I gather my wits.
Nose in the air, I stick it up.
I stretch, I search, I reach from within.
I look for a talent that is uniquely me.
I do my best knowing it may never be enough.
I do it still to prove my worth.
My push.
My driving force.
What you call disability
Heralds thisABILITY.
Dec 1, 2010
Nov 13, 2010
Who Are You?
Beauty has nothing to do with the amount of cleavage you show.
It couldn't care less that you drive a lexus.
Or that you drive a "leg-us" for that matter.
It has nothing to do with the inches of your brazilian weave.
It couldn't be bothered about your louis vuitton bag.
Or that your clothes are washed and worn.
No it doesn't care if your account is fat and shapeless.
Or if your nose is straight or crooked.
Your father's name is inconsequential.
Your mother sells fish in the market. Big deal!
Its oblivious to the lies you feed.
The perfection you seek.
So many times, in pursuit of beauty we go further and further away from it.
The irony!
We travel far and wide in search of what is at our finger tips.
We go under the knife.
We go from black to white.
Oh if Beauty could speak!
If her voice could ring loud and clear.
Her cry would be heard far and near.
Look in the mirror, she would say.
Look beyond that pouch in your belly.
Beyond that scar on your face.
Beyond those unequal eyebrows.
Beyond who you think you are.
Look at you.
Look at you.
Beauty is etched in your every feature.
In the contours of your body.
In the curves and the dents.
In the rise and the fall.
In the beat of your heart.
In the way you act.
In the words that you speak.
In the joy that you bring.
Ever-so-loving; Ever-so-pure.
Ever-so-subtle; Ever-so-sure.
Beauty is truth.
Beauty is you.
It couldn't care less that you drive a lexus.
Or that you drive a "leg-us" for that matter.
It has nothing to do with the inches of your brazilian weave.
It couldn't be bothered about your louis vuitton bag.
Or that your clothes are washed and worn.
No it doesn't care if your account is fat and shapeless.
Or if your nose is straight or crooked.
Your father's name is inconsequential.
Your mother sells fish in the market. Big deal!
Its oblivious to the lies you feed.
The perfection you seek.
So many times, in pursuit of beauty we go further and further away from it.
The irony!
We travel far and wide in search of what is at our finger tips.
We go under the knife.
We go from black to white.
Oh if Beauty could speak!
If her voice could ring loud and clear.
Her cry would be heard far and near.
Look in the mirror, she would say.
Look beyond that pouch in your belly.
Beyond that scar on your face.
Beyond those unequal eyebrows.
Beyond who you think you are.
Look at you.
Look at you.
Beauty is etched in your every feature.
In the contours of your body.
In the curves and the dents.
In the rise and the fall.
In the beat of your heart.
In the way you act.
In the words that you speak.
In the joy that you bring.
Ever-so-loving; Ever-so-pure.
Ever-so-subtle; Ever-so-sure.
Beauty is truth.
Beauty is you.
Oct 23, 2010
A girl's story
There bukky sat staring at her phone. As if willing it to ring with the intensity of her gaze. She gazed back at her watch, and was startled to find that 5mins had barely passed since the last time she checked. Standing up she went to the living room to check the wall clock, perhaps her watch was running slow. But that wasn't so..her watch was right on time. This was becoming a trend. Having to wait for bayo's call. Many times falling asleep in the process. I hope he's alright she thought. And said a silent prayer for him. Or could he have forgotten to take his phone to work like he did on monday?, she tought to herself. But even if, she argued, its 10.45pm, surely he would be back home by now. Why was his phone still switched off? Or could he be.......... No. She quickly shook the thought off before it took root. Never. Not her bayo. He loved her. He could never cheat. She was sure of that.
How many ladies have gone through this, later to find out the signs had been there all along...
In his eyes, as they scanned the room.
In his answers, as he looked everywhere but you.
In the coughs and the yawns, and the many pauses in-between.
When what was said that day doesn't square with what's said today.
How could you forget the silence, and the phone that's always turned off?
And when it isn't? "I'm sorry baby, the ring tone was low". Or more appropriately the macho answer, "its nothing, you're just overreacting"
The little things you so easily made excuses for.."He's been busy"..."he forgot"..."I understand, he's going through alot", you say. More to convince yourself than others.
And so the calls come every now and then.
The "darlings" and "sweethearts" gradually fade.
As the suspicions you try so hard to ignore gains momentum, you find you can't take advice you so often give.
What is happening? You ask in between tears. It was supposed to be happily ever after.
But he's not Alaadin and you're not Jasmine.
Slowly the pieces fall in place.
Yes...the signs were there all along, but you were too much in love to see them.
And so he slipped...
Further and further he slipped...
Till your heart couldn't find his where it once lived.
Note to ladies..
Not every guy cheats. If you have a guy that loves you, and proves it too, don't analyze him, don't smother him, don't be a nag and please remain faithful. And most importantly love and appreciate him.
If he still leaves after that, he isn't yours.
If he is yours, he'll surely come back to you.
If he doesn't remember good things fall apart for better things to fall together.
So keep your head up.
Love tomiwa
How many ladies have gone through this, later to find out the signs had been there all along...
In his eyes, as they scanned the room.
In his answers, as he looked everywhere but you.
In the coughs and the yawns, and the many pauses in-between.
When what was said that day doesn't square with what's said today.
How could you forget the silence, and the phone that's always turned off?
And when it isn't? "I'm sorry baby, the ring tone was low". Or more appropriately the macho answer, "its nothing, you're just overreacting"
The little things you so easily made excuses for.."He's been busy"..."he forgot"..."I understand, he's going through alot", you say. More to convince yourself than others.
And so the calls come every now and then.
The "darlings" and "sweethearts" gradually fade.
As the suspicions you try so hard to ignore gains momentum, you find you can't take advice you so often give.
What is happening? You ask in between tears. It was supposed to be happily ever after.
But he's not Alaadin and you're not Jasmine.
Slowly the pieces fall in place.
Yes...the signs were there all along, but you were too much in love to see them.
And so he slipped...
Further and further he slipped...
Till your heart couldn't find his where it once lived.
Note to ladies..
Not every guy cheats. If you have a guy that loves you, and proves it too, don't analyze him, don't smother him, don't be a nag and please remain faithful. And most importantly love and appreciate him.
If he still leaves after that, he isn't yours.
If he is yours, he'll surely come back to you.
If he doesn't remember good things fall apart for better things to fall together.
So keep your head up.
Love tomiwa
Oct 8, 2010
50 years and 1 week
Today last week Nigeria marked its 50th independence anniversary.
Today last week the (social)media was filled with the independence day cheer.
Today last week our phones were flooded with positive messages about Nigeria.
Today last week the rumoured "N72million cake" was baked.
Today last week the 15 children kidnapped in Abia state were released.
Today last week I heard about the scramble for the 1st lady's brazil imported rice.
Today last week 8 people were killed in the independence day bomb blast.
A week went by...
And today I ask; where did the cheer and merriment go?
Today there is no one "reppin" or "loving" Nigeria on my twitter page.
Today I ask; who did eat outta the rumoured cake?
Today I ask whatever happened to our very own Nigerian rice?
Today I hear that just yesterday Borno ANPP chairman was murdered.
Today I hear there has been another kidnap.
Today I ask who really was behind the independence day bomblasts?
Today last week I was going to update an independence day blogpost...but it sounded too cliche even to me.
And today? Forgive me if this still sounds cliche..
Its only because the country appears to be a walking talking candle lit cliche.
You wanna know what isn't a cliche even though it might have been over-stressed?
Its the fact that things must change for the better.
But will sitting around making pronouncements change a thing?
Definitely not!
Now change is an effect of action.
Its our call to uphold the vision that reformers fought for 50 years and 1 week ago.
A vision of a truely independent state.
What we need is a leader who shares this vision.
Hopefully come 2011 elections he/she will have been identified and is goin to get my vote. What about yours?
Today last week the (social)media was filled with the independence day cheer.
Today last week our phones were flooded with positive messages about Nigeria.
Today last week the rumoured "N72million cake" was baked.
Today last week the 15 children kidnapped in Abia state were released.
Today last week I heard about the scramble for the 1st lady's brazil imported rice.
Today last week 8 people were killed in the independence day bomb blast.
A week went by...
And today I ask; where did the cheer and merriment go?
Today there is no one "reppin" or "loving" Nigeria on my twitter page.
Today I ask; who did eat outta the rumoured cake?
Today I ask whatever happened to our very own Nigerian rice?
Today I hear that just yesterday Borno ANPP chairman was murdered.
Today I hear there has been another kidnap.
Today I ask who really was behind the independence day bomblasts?
Today last week I was going to update an independence day blogpost...but it sounded too cliche even to me.
And today? Forgive me if this still sounds cliche..
Its only because the country appears to be a walking talking candle lit cliche.
You wanna know what isn't a cliche even though it might have been over-stressed?
Its the fact that things must change for the better.
But will sitting around making pronouncements change a thing?
Definitely not!
Now change is an effect of action.
Its our call to uphold the vision that reformers fought for 50 years and 1 week ago.
A vision of a truely independent state.
What we need is a leader who shares this vision.
Hopefully come 2011 elections he/she will have been identified and is goin to get my vote. What about yours?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)