In the shadows of the night, as a roaming light hits her face briefly, I see a pure form of beauty in her struggle, like the lines across her face connect to form a map- an untold story of the places she had been and the things she had seen. A story begetting many stories that transcend space and time, for a woman, who I noticed, does not acknowledge time.
He looked up and held up his hands with one palm outstretched, while the other was balled up in a fist except for a thumb sticking out. I looked at him again and finally found the soft, innocent eyes of a six-year-old.Read more "Omo Ale"
I remember the night I stood on a stool in front of my mother’s mirror, I swept my hair to the side, tilted my chin and puffed my chest. I tried to imagine myself as a woman, no longer four but twenty-four. I tried to imagine a time when everyone would refer to me as “ma.” I […]Read more "The Art Of Becoming"
First published this on Valentine’s day. I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you like it too.Read more "Omaye"
I wrote this a while ago and it was first published on Lucidlemons.com on the 31st January, 2016.Read more "11:48"
I cannot find the God you serve and I have been known to stay out all night searching– Yrsa Daley-Ward Every night, I would wake up to my mother’s cries. My little frame would crawl out of bed and fearfully find its way in the dark to the living room, where I would find my […]Read more "Love don’t live here."
2015 tried to bring me down so many times. I was tempted to lose myself and I found myself retracting into a shell. I found out that I’m not as strong as I think and this made every blow hurt ten times more. For a while, I was nothing more than a shadow of myself […]Read more "Last page of 2015"