POSTED 09/23/2018 15:47
Before my mother was born,
I was there...
Shivering at the deafening silence from beneath her skin.
Subdued by the weight of my being,
She staggered at a snail's pace to her favourite spot in the moonlight,
Longing to share her story with the world.
From the rhythm of her heart,
I could tell the tone of her story;
She was once so very innocent;
Treading on the paths of slavery
In desperate search for freedom.
A dreamer who emitted solar energy from the confines of her breasts
To power the lamp posts on the streets of her dreams,
Just so they could light her paths to reality.
A story of a land overflowing with milk and honey,
Once blessed with inhabitants who were concerned about the good of posterity -
So they savoured the sweetness of the land with modesty,
Preserving the remains for generations yet unborn.
These inhabitants were my mother's first fruits;
The mirror that revealed the abundance of her heart;
A breed that starved their stomachs to satisfy their little ones;
The true Joys of Motherhood.
As she told her story,
I heard cracked sounds like a broken radio waves gushing out of her throat;
She had gotten emotional at the thought of her succeeding generations,
So much that her vocal cords could no longer retain the pains stuck in there.
Her succeeding generations were different;
A direct opposite of a Mother's pride.
They adorned their skin with tattoos of greed and jealousy,
Then covered the mess with a coat of blurry kindness -
In pursuit of power.
But you see,
In every waste bin, there is always something valuable
For a mad woman...
And my mother is a mad woman.
So she dipped her hands into the garbage
And dished out treasures -
Polished and set aside to bless humanity.
So to the Treasures who have alienated themselves from the ills of time -
My world changers and shapers -
The lifeline of humanity...
I understand that the 'weather' isn't smiling.
But as long as your focus and values are on the right track,
The storm will never move you.
The winds shall blow in your favour...
And the sun will come back with grins of victory.
But until then,
Keep paddling the canoe on the route to your dreams...
And know that #OnlyGod can grant you a safe landing.
I am the voice of the unborn generation,
I sit entrenched in the womb of Akwa Ibom State.
This is where I belong.
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