THE REASON WHY I AM PROUD

"He is proud." I heard a guy spoke of me.
I smiled when I heard him say that.

I was a little boy with loneliness as his companion. Inferiority complex took a major part of him, he hated himself and believed nothing good can ever come out of him.

During Children's Day Celebration in the church, I always hid and exempted myself from participating in anything. I was too conscious of making mistakes. I tried a few times to take the bull by the horn, but always had a reason not to have tried in the first place. I was mesmerized, beaten to the ground, helpless and forsaken.

I heard many people say I was the ugliest kid of my parent. They told the truth. Maybe, maybe not. The mirror was an evidence. I never like what I saw. A very skinny image of a boy who almost died of sickness. "Lepa" became his second name. His eyes bulged out like they would fall at any moment. People started calling him "oju-olomgbo." meaning cat eyes. He cried and questioned God for given him a different colour of eyeballs. His proprietress always told the other kids during assembly to call his legs "mosquito legs" after being punished with several whips of cane. One of his teeth protruded out of his gum, which made him look like a vampire. He was so fair in complexion that people called him "afin" some say "albino." some even say "ororo." People said the truth, I concluded, I was the ugliest.

Whenever I performed poorly in my exam at school, I would be spoken to like it was all my fault. My parents and aunties would take every of my mistake to be a reason why I didn't do well. And when I requested for extra food during meals, even if I would later be given, I would hear the server which was always either one of my aunties or elder sisters say after sucking me dry with a look of rejection and irritation, "that's the only thing you are good at." Then a long hiss would follow.

Almost everybody had one ill thing to say about me. It gave me sleepless night, and finally made me shrink deep into my shell.

When I took the second position in Primary five, my joy was full. My dad would buy crate of mineral like he always did for my younger sister, who was in the same class with me. I got home and was the first to declare what position I took. I saw expressions that weren't really a smile on their faces, then "you tried" was all that were muttered. I was mad! I did it for them. In fact, I was living just to please people.

My elder brother told me the most demeaning words I have heard people say to me. During a youth convention in my church when I was eighteen. I wrote a spoken word to be said, though I was going to read it from the typed sheet of paper. I opted into writing because that was the only remedy and companion which was always ready to let me wet it with my words filled with burdens. I gave the piece of writing to my elder brother, who asked me what the theme of the program was when he read my topic. I told him. He asked me what was mine, I told him. Then he asked, "What is the correlation? If you don't have something to do on that day, come sit and watch people who have better things to do." He flung the sheet of paper back at me, who was sitting on the floor. Tears beclouded my eyes, I grabbed the dangling sheet of paper in the air and tore it to pieces.

I hated myself for trying yet again. I hated writing, my companion. I slid into hell.

I dropped my pen for more than a year against my wish. Though I tried picking it up to write, but I dropped it again because I didn't want to go through the torment of abuses for lack of my competence.

So many other bitter experiences were what I had to deal with as a boy. And these were the reasons I smiled when I heard that guy's shallow mind speak. He didn't know how hard I prayed and fought to get me to this place.

Well, what I exhibit now isn't pride, it is simply self confidence, reliance and belief. Unlike before, I confide in myself because experiences have taught me a great deal, I rely on my abilities because no one could do any better, and I believe in myself because I am one of a kind. I grew up facing critics and abuses in each step I took. I'm stronger now. Words don't get to me anymore.

Do not let anybody define yourself to you, no one can know you any better than how you know yourself. And if they speak ill of you, forgive them for their blindness and shallow thinking. Oh! Remember, "if nobody talks about you, then you are nobody."- Tuface Idibia

I have grown to be a happy young man with a vision, maybe that's why I'm proud!

Me now

Me before

TRILOGY OF EMOTIONAL ABUSE

Words noisily flying around my head like Nazi planes,
Words I dare not utter,
Words gushing for release,
Words strong enough to turn mountains  into plains.
I stare at her with eyes red like Apollo
I wonder how she once took me to the moon like Apollo
Anger raising to momentum like Kobe Bryant's feet,
While like a spectator, I bask in the adulation of the feat.
This is war and I wasn't settling for defeat,
I shall keep shooting with silence until she cowers at my feet.
They say Silence is the best answer for a fool,
I say Silence is the best weapon of the wise.
I need not hit her, no am no animal.
I need not beat her, that ain't right.
But knowing her very weakness is attention,
I need only shut the gates of my affections,
Death from within
has always been the best Battle strategy
I keep calm and be still
let her drown in the sea of her own storm.

She keeps ranting and raving like the stormy sea Jesus calmed
Endlessly seeking words that I have into my mouth rammed.
She fights endlessly for a word from my mouth,
While I stand still like a statue, not making a sound.
Finally, out of ideas,she breaks down and begins to cry,
Her tears pouring like a rainy day in rivers state.
Her agony playing like a ominous tune in a solemn state.
I tilt my head like a pinball machine,
Playing hard like a farm machine
I can see her pain but I play blind,
United, tightening my emotions till she's left back.
Sweet, sweet revenge.
This silence, kills and leaves no remains.

What remains after natural disaster
Is nothing compared to wounds she fester.
My silence had cut in deep like hot knife on butter
Every of her walls pounded like a mortar.
She grows cold, so cold,
Frozen stiff like an icicle.
She begins to fall, falling hard
Like rains drops from a pregnant sky.
She grows lonely, so lonely
Like a dismembered wheel from a bicycle
She begins to spin, spinning hard,
Losing her soft as the seconds go by.
So it seems, so it is.
She was carefully losing her wit,
Her heart returning to its rhythm,
She was no longer ready to listen,
No longer caring to know how I feel,
No longer wanting to mute my silence,
Instead joining me to tune up the volume of the silence
Instead on her lips she puts a seal.

IF YOU'VE NEVER...

If you've never woken up in the middle of the night to find a strange figure in your room, barely dressed, with hands over your mouth to prevent the sounds you might let out, then you have no right to judge me. If you've never ever been so confused as to why your cloth is being ripped off while you're being warned not to shout so as not to get into big trouble, then you have no freaking right to run your tongue. 

A hand is caressing her body and she's longing for fresh virgin air because of the stench of alcohol and cigarettes choking her. She's unable to escape the grasp and it's as if the more she tries to resist, the deeper the fingers crawl into her skin. Maybe she's just 4, totally oblivious of what is being done to her. She thinks that she's getting her punishment for being naughty and she doesn't want marks to be left on her skin because her friends will call her 'ugly'. In that case, she's lucky to still have her innocence and little or no memories to taunt her later, she might not even remember what happened in a few days to come. Only if it ends that night.

                      *************************

I am fifteen, Thelma is my best friend and she is eleven years older than I am. Dan was her boyfriend and they were madly in love. I had my fantasies and dreams, I wanted a boyfriend just as loving and sweet as Dan. He was so nice to me, he bought me nice stuffs and always complimented my looks. I only stole glances at him and found myself blushing, he had the most beautiful green eyes ever, they could stare into my soul and properly let out the fact that I had a crush on him. Dan was perfect.

Last night, I woke up to find Dan in my room, I thought he came to talk as usual. I was only surprised that he hadn't knocked or woken me up. He just stood there wearing a smile and looking at me like he'd been possessed. Before I could say a word, Dan was on my bed, holding me too tightly and saying stuffs that I didn't understand at that point. I think it was something about loving me more than Thelma and desiring me so much that he had sleepless nights. I thought we were just going to laugh it off in the morning and continue living as if it was just one of his sleepwalking madness.

Dan didn't leave, instead he started caressing my skin and putting his hands underneath my clothes. I thought Dan was really cute but I hadn't considered going intimate with him. I had never been with a boy before, only kissed a silly one once in school. I tried to stop him but he paid no attention. I felt something hard on my nightgown and that was when I noticed he only had his boxers on. He was trying to take off my cloth and I was begging him to stop. It was as if I was watering the dessert as he continued his tour on my skin.

"I promise you'll enjoy it. Just relax and let me show you love, Mara."

I tried to scream but it was trapped at the back of my throat and all that came out was whimpering. He started biting my lips, then my nipples. He aggressively inserted his fingers inside me while I tried to get rid of him. Before I knew it, he was inside me and was thrusting back and forth so vigorously that I almost lost consciousness. After my frivolous efforts to stop him, I opted to stay still until he got bored of me. It took an hour or thereabout and he was done. He lay wasted beside me for a while before he started dressing.

He spoke, "You look so innocent but you're not even a virgin. You're so loose and open down there, Whore!". I was too weak to speak so I just watched him as he left my room with a disgust look. 

I swore not to tell anyone about what happened, I'd gotten used to such anyway. As I entered the parlour to greet everyone, Thelma ran to me with the broadest smile ever. She looked so happy and flushed, I wonder why she was in such a good mood. She brought forth her left hand and I sighted a beautiful piece on one of her fingers.

"Dan just proposed to me and I said yes. We're getting married next weekend", she screamed.

I don't think 'shock' can well describe my reaction. All I could get out of me was,
"Why so soon?"
"He's leaving for Canada in two weeks to practice his medical profession and he wants us to go together"
"Oh! Congrats girl" I had to try my best to feign a smile and push the tears back.
"I love you very much Mara and I'll miss you very much" Thelma said and gave me a long kiss on my lips before running off, probably to shout down the walls.
She looked really happy and I was happy for her.

                ******************************

Thelma looked lavishly gorgeous. The church wedding was in two hours and we're both excited about her getting married to the love of her life.

"I wish you can go with us now but don't worry, I'm getting everything ready for you to join us in two months."
"Isn't it too early? You guys should enjoy at least six months alone as newly weds". I wasn't sure that I'll ever be with them over there at all.
"Rubbish" Thelma said, caressing me on the cheek and holding my hands tight. "You've been in my life for so long, even before Dan. I can't let you go dear, you know I love you very much"
"Of course I know. I love you too girl."

             ********************************
The church wedding was beautiful but the reception was even more heavenly. Words couldn't describe how the place looked, as if it was taken out of a book of fantasy. Everywhere and everyone looked beautiful. The flowers, roses and bluebells. The ornaments, the centre pieces... Everything looked breathtaking.

Thelma changed to another amazing dress and she looked so beautiful as ever. Dan whispered into her ears and she laughed loudly, so much happiness. As the maid of honour, I sat beside her and I filled up all our glasses for a toast. Dan stood to begin.

"A toast to my beautiful wife. God bless the gym that brought you my way" we all laughed. 

Thelma couldn't hold back her joy. She held my hands and blushed like a teenager.

"I had to borrow words from my darling Shakespeare to make this toast to you. It's my promise to you my love.......
"Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending..." He coughed.

"Oh sorry, I feel there's something in my throat. Maybe Thelma's love is choking me." We all laughed again. Such a funny being.
He coughed again, this time beating his chest hard. As he tried to continue, the cough came again and this time he grabbed his wine glass to clear his throat. Thelma got uneasy and held her forehead as she got up to help him out. 

"Don't worry love, I'm fine. You're the one looks uneasy... Are you okay?" Then coughed again.
"I'm alright. Maybe I've had too much drinks," Thelma sayed and laughed, gulping down another glass.

When Dan didn't reply she looked to found him on the floor shaking vigorously with blood gushing out of his nose and eyes. Everyone surrounded them and Thelma cryed helplessly. Her shout got fainter by the minute and she soon laid beside him, dead too!

                 ***************************
I moved in with Thelma and her family when I was four, after losing my parents in a plane crash. We became more than sisters, we were inseparable. I loved her so much and she loved me too. She loved me so much that she snuck into my room every night with a dildo that she'd stolen from her mum's room. I refused her at first and fought hard until I was weak. She inserted her fingers into me, and then the object too. I screamed out but no one came to my rescue. Maybe the rain swallowed my cries. Thelma had started hanging out with a new group of friends and they taught her to puff smoke from a stick and also steal whiskey from her dad's bar. She did weird things with my body and made me touch her too. It went on for weeks and I stopped trying to resist her, I loved her and I wanted her to be happy. I didn't know what was going on but she seemed to enjoy it as she made sounds and laughed hysterically while I sobbed in pain.

"I love you Mara. You're the best and I'll never leave you for another, I promise."

It went for years. When I was of eight or nine, I tried to end it when I found out it was wrong but Thelma wouldn't hear a word of that. I stopped complaining and it went on until Dan came into the picture two years later. I didn't mind, her new boyfriend made her loosen her grip on me and I was relieved. I loved them both equally and I let go of the past. Oh yes I did, Until Dan resurrected the demons within.

                 ***********************
If you've never been through what I went through, if you've never loved like I did, if you've never been loved like I was, then you have no right to judge me or call me 'wicked'. If you choose to judge me still, your wine glass might be the next to have an extra substance, beautiying it!

Written by Nwana Adanna.

DEATH IS FICTION

Why live when we shall all die?
Why the cry when our friends or family die?
Why ask why when they die young?
Why not die and meet them beyond?
Death has got right
And it's our right to die.
"But not young" so many losers fight
A citation of the blind loosing sight.
Think of death, and live.
Think of troubles and be relieved.
"Fear", just a friend to your enemy,
Death, expertise in tragic tales.
Die, and I will cry
Though just for a while
But to keep the tears in my eyes,
Make me cry now that you are alive!!!
.
.
.
Death is simply fiction...

I wrote this some years ago. That day, I remember, the death of someone was in the air, death proved itself to be inevitable once again.

Who in this life hasn't lost somebody to death? In fact, I lost someone last week, and one last month. I even have a friend who is preparing for her grandma's burial this month. We lose some people in their old age and some in their young age.  Some die rich and some poor, some well behaved, and some very stubborn. So I'm sure it's way long a known fact that irrespective of who you are, Mr. Death will get hold of you someday.

Since death is inevitable, I believe everyone should prepare for it. Oh! That's why the statement, live like its your last day, was birthed. In the economics, they call it maximum utility.

When someone dies, one question creeps into my mind always, "who was he?"

The world is getting corrupt the more each passing second, so is man getting selfish. Now life is lived for just self. No one cares to build a name while still alive. Wealth acquisition is obviously encompassing a wide range of space in the hearts of men than having a good name.
The media houses celebrate and preach money owners like they are Christ, and the poor masses acquiesce and gulp it in like it is the message.

This is always a bitter pills to swallow, it is simply the truth.
"Not everyone was created to experience old age."
So I don't cry or mourn because someone dies, but I mourn and pity the world for losing a rare gem; that's if the person is worth crying for.

Don't crucify me, rather look into every word in this article to get life to live.