Born too soon….this is my story

12 weeks.

Twelve weeks.

12 weeks earlier than expected,he came to the world that hadn’t fully prepared for him.But he came,fighting for his place in the sun.

There were big medical terms used.Chronically under-weight(920g,by the way…less than a bag of sugar),double inguinal hernia…under-developed lungs unable to function by themselves for almost exactly 12 weeks.

(Kangaroo mother care)

We named him Qhawe.Which means Hero,Victor,Conqueror.Against all odds he was born.

The journey was long.Painful.Exhausting.I sat at his bedside for months…compartmentalizing my life for fear of fragmenting.

And so

I don’t know what people see when they look at him.Possibly a scrawny little boy with an overdeveloped vocabulary.An absolute ball of fire.I don’t rightly know….

But I see love perfected❤

(My warrior)

Free

Ushackled from the weight of expectation and conformity.from the negative connotations attached to individual oddities,from the addictions of glorifying failure and sorrow,using both as the yardstick for measuring normalcy…..

Released from the unspoken debilitating tribal nuances that we have accepted define us…..

Unsprung from the mold of countless generations that produce an amazingly similar species of crude form,with an inflated sense of accomplishment and identity.

Unyoked from the fear of imagined censure that holds hostage the springs of creativity and incandescence….

Unchained from the stifling need for validation,and the erroneous assumption that approval will bring contentment and vindication,and with it,joy……

I emerged victorious…..

On father’s day…

I see you, father.In this society that you struggle to be relevant in,when it has decided nothing you do will ever be enough.Yet you show up regardless.You give it your all in raising your children.Mapping your own way when likely you had no-one to show you the way.I see you.I see you.

I see you,father.Waiting for this day.Shamelessly glorying in accolades and praise you know full well you don’t deserve.You live with your children,but you co-exist in separate dimensions.When you receive the father’s day wishes and messages,you preen and make a show and say it’s nothing.It really is.I see you.

I see you,father.With the non-guilt of your un-acknowledged offspring that some woman is raising because you were not ready and it was not the right time to be a father.Your streetsmarts saved you from committing to shouldering a responsibility you were not ready for.I see you.

I see you,father of nobody.Making sure children are fed,clothed and educated.Nobody calls you father,but you do amazing work,covering the shame of the unknown fathers.I see you.

I see you fathers

Pseudo fathers

Abusive fathers

Absent fathers

Fathers who don’t come home

Fathers who come home and the atmosphere darkens

Present fathers

Loving fathers

Hardworking fathers

Fathers modelling fatherhood.

We see you .

Happy fathers’ day

I learnt a new language…

Everyone is frantically scurrying to learn something new during the global lockdown,and not just learn it but pressurize everyone else to do the same.Learn a new skill, learn to bake,cook,crochet, do home workouts,re-invent yourself etc.

Well,because of ,or rather,in spite of the pressure,I did learn a new skill.I learnt to speak a new language.I’m still new at it, but I’m fast learning to be fluent. Hopefully, I shall soon be able to know its shades and hues.But I speak it now, passably well,with surprising and gathering confidence.I speak it with a long-forgotten steeliness and determination.With a rebellion born of the acknowledgement of squandered time.

I learnt to speak the language of self-love.

Of self-care,of hope,of faith.

I learnt the language of rest.Of self-forgiveness,self-awareness.

I learnt to say no without explanation.Yes without qualification.

I learnt to applaud my strengths without seeking validation from others.I learnt that I matter whether or not I am told.That I am amazing whether or not I am acknowledged.I learnt to accept my quirkiness.To praise my efforts and not to diminish my talents.I learnt that it is wonderful if I can do it,but if I cannot,I am no less.

I learnt the language of self-love. I am responsible for my joy and happiness.I learnt to see myself in a kinder light.To breathe.I aspire to be fluent in the language of self-love……..

Just one of those days…..

Floundering, faltering

Flailing,flummoxed

Blundering, stymied

Struggling,hyperventilating.

Unstable

Out of breath

Out of sync

Out of sorts

Uncentered

Off balance

Off kilter

Off colour.

Just one of those days….

From the outside looking in

I stand at the window looking in

Just a few panes of clear glass

Are all that keep me from joining in.

I wish I were in there

Sometimes I even think

I am in there.

But then I reach out

And I touch-

Cold glass.

My soul is tortured

My spirit is weary

My mind is numb

I have grown tired

Of pretending,

but do not know how to stop.

I have faked it for so long I have not the strength to break down the glass.

Every time I reach out to touch freedom, those panes of glass stand in my way.

Every time I think I smell release,

My nose touches

Cold glass

Who are you?

After work.After school.After church.After lunch.After the social intercourse.After the movie.After the joke,after the gossip,after the meeting…….

Who are you?What are you?

Are you happy?Sad?Exhausted?Exhilarated,struggling?Sated?

Do you feel like a fraud for pretending to be the person you pretend to be all day,all week,all year,all you?

Do you feel relieved to put down the mask?

Do you feel empty and fumbling for identity?

Are you funny?

Are you prayerful?

Are you genuine?

Can you find yourself?

Do you recognize yourself?

Can you bear to come face to face with you?

Can you recognise your fears?

Can you stand the quiet?

Would you name your passions by name?

Your weaknesses?

Your strengths?

Your biases?

Your burdens,anger,frustrations, fetishes?

The bits that build you

The pieces that define your vibrational frequency.

Are you courageous,weak, forceful,wispy,vibrant,serene, bleached?formless,ambitious, direct,shy,sly,hungry,confused? attentive,guilty,apprehensive, greedy,spineless?frightened,shifty, sensitive,hurt,bruised,breaking, broken,tight,shattered,stretched, wounded?

Are you fizzing with joy?with pain?

Are you tearful?Are you nursing a canker?a sore,a gash?

Are you oozing excitement?

Is there a fetid stench of rotting unfulfilled desires?

After all has been said and done….

Is there an aridness, barrenness,dryness?

Are there hidden springs of hope and faith?

Are there unexpected wells of inspiration,of glee,of mirth?

Are there reserves of ambition or rebellion or contrariness?

Who are you?what are you?

Are you kind,reliable,faithful?

Bubbly, effervescent?

Restrained,constrained?

Stiff, uncomfortable?

Loose, relaxed?

Forgetful, Forgettable?

Dogged, obsessive?

Relentless?

Alight,on fire?

Unable to relate,to identify,struggling to be?

Unwilling to let go?

Do you feel invisible or invincible?

Validated?Justified?Vindicated?

Deserving?Worthy?

Irrelevant?Irreverent?

Quirky?

Set apart or part of a whole?

Who are you?

We were Kings,We were Queens

……..scoffing at the mundane in favour of the novel

Rejecting the everyday in search of the special

Snubbing the ordinary for that extra

Gobbling up experiences without properly savouring them

Taking pictures of the sunrise without actually enjoying it,

having conversations where we spoke at each other without listening to each other.

Judging without understanding.

Barren of empathy and sympathy.

We were Kings, We were Queens.

Taking the miraculous for granted,dishonoring the wholesome,disregarding the pure for the profane.

Gorging on the shocking,

feasting on images,ideas with no substance or value.

Undervaluing family and relationship connections for a Utopian web tribe.

Saturated with the unnecessary,

Dripping in excess,

Unable to breathe in the abundance of breath.

Overfed with irrelevance.

Stuffed with false vindication and fake validation.

Swollen with a misplaced and unjustified sense of self importance.

Disdaining genuine conversations in favour of the shallow and flimsy.

Puffed up with pride.

Slinking from the profound and dwelling on the irreverent and irrelevant.

Rewarding mediocrity and touting clones.

Shackled by routine.

Frozen in the habit of race.

Drowning in the expectation achievement.

Deriving identity from perfomance.

And when the world stumbled and teetered, suddenly we were forced to take a breath and recalibrate.

Listen to the heartbeat of the universe.

We were forced to re-evaluate our identity.

To actually wonder whether the pomp and ceremony that is part of our every day lives is really necessary………