MIXED

-

That was the first thing that came to mind when I first saw her. After 2 decades of not seeing each other, I felt the change in her. She was different, no matter how much she tried to feign her attitude towards me, I could sense the friction within her.

A Smart woman. A serious minded woman. A woman who is her own man. A woman who takes the responsibility of her family upon herself. A woman with a strength of a tiger, carries with her the aura of a lioness. Her sense of dressing, unique. "I was told by my colleagues that my fashion sense is intimidating". She says with so much pride.

Pride. That's another penumbra she shields herself in. I've never seen a woman who clouds herself with the sound of her own voice. So allured with the achievements she has made so far. A woman utterly judgemental that she thinks of herself irreproachable. "I want you to learn from me. To see how alleviated I am about life" She would say to me.

Mama braced her more when I described the dissimilarity I discovered,"The only change I noticed in her is the massive amount of weight she put on. If not that, I see no change in her. She's still the same woman I've always known since our early days."

But I see her not the way other people see her. Instead of a genuine expression, I see a mask. Her eyes tells of the battles she fights within. The pains of what could have been is so evident in her eyes. I witness her façade of preserving a happy life. Her puffy eyes tells of the amount of tears she sheds in the dark. "I am not sad, I am not angry, I am fine. I am just.... I am just...." I heard her say to herself one day.

What happened? What happened to the lady that was filled with love and expectations? What happened to the high spirited being who marvelled at the wonders of life? What happened to the grace that surged from her when she talked?

When I gaze at her, I see anger bundled with charm. I see haughtiness engulfed with humility. I see grace filled with scars. I see the shuffles of beatitudes she craves for.


I afflict for the woman who is mixed not accomplished...




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

THE DILEMMA OF A FATHER by Casmir Ekoh

-
Image
A father begot several children, and three of them among the men became very prominent and outstanding! They jostled for superiority and influence among them and in the society. They spared nothing to achieve this. Of course, they were casualties in the process, even leading to unintended deaths, and the siblings took sides among the three, leading to divisions along that line. Each of the three prominent men of that man was buoyed up by the fellowship  they commanded, and each time any of them looked back and saw the crowd they commanded, they spoiled for war the more. Each was jostling for the attention of the father to side with him. But the father knowing the implications of doing this, refused to take sides. He implored them to see themselves for what they are, brothers, knowing there are less fortunate fathers envious of him. He knew the enemy could use any of this his squabbling children to gain access into his family and destroy it. He preached peace to no avail. Each...
Read more

REGINA

-
Image
The room always went quiet when Regina was disappointed. Not because she shouted. She rarely did. But there was something about the way she spoke that made people listen… or shrink. “What we should be focused on,” she said, looking at them one after the other, “is the people.” Three employees stood in front of her. A young man and two women. None of them could hold her gaze for long. “Their voices. Their experiences. Not what we think they want. Not guesses.” She paused and rubbed her forehead for a moment, like she was trying to hold on to her patience. “I’m not impressed.” The words were calm, but they still landed heavily. “No ma,” one of the women said quickly. “We actually went out. We spoke to people...” “Then show me that,” Regina replied, cutting in gently but firmly. “I want to see it in your work. I want to feel it. People who have actually lived through abuse, not something that sounds imagined.” Silence. “Next week,” she added. “On my desk.” “Yes ma,” they said...
Read more

THE PART SHE PLAYED

-
Image
A s she stood at the entrance of the building, Zina asked herself: What exactly brought me this far? Love? Her passion for acting? Or the reminder of what they owed her? But there were three things Zina knew for sure: One — she was born for the stage. Two — Dare’s smile still did things to her stomach. And three — Obinna still hated her guts. Ivory Reel Productions buzzed with laughter, camera clicks, and the clipped rhythm of ambition. It smelled like stories in the making. She told herself she was just dropping by. A quick hello. A peek at how far they’d come. Zina paused at the glass door' not to check her reflection, but to steady her breath. Inside, nothing had changed: Black-and-white frames of film history. The electric tension of dreams.  The scent of sweat, lights, and nerves. They built it together; Dare, Obinna, and Kenna. The three boys who once ruled her childhood like rowdy gods. She was the odd one out back then, the girl they laughed at on the school b...
Read more