Tag Archives: pain

#FreedomFriday – Happy Innocence Day

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When I was a child, Innocence used to live in my community

Yes, they were bullies, but also mothers that stood up to resist

And fathers that sent you back to school to return with a trophy

There were mothers who could leave their children for the market

And return to meet them alive and in one piece.

Fathers who taught boys how to be men and not celebrate the beast in them

Fathers who knew to be proud of their legacy, wealthy or not!

Back then, it felt good to be a child, as my short baby dress wasn’t an invitation

But a girl beautifully dressed with ribbons and matching socks…

Trusting fingers clinging to out-stretched adult hands

Giggling as my feet left the ground; above an uncle’s shoulder…

When Innocence was a child like me!

Now Innocence is grown in more ways than she should

The quick movement of retreating eyes tell sordid tales

Of several forms of abuse, unspoken and unreached hurts

Innocence wears a gown not her size, trying desperately to hide

Yet searching ‘Hawks’ snatch her fresh before Momma turns to defend

Making a woman of her, laden with a child. Yet, she herself is one!

I don’t know if Innocence will return…

But I seek all who will her cause defend and Hawks prevent

Will you join me? So we truly have a Happy Children’s day.

*Both male and female gender suffer different forms of abuse and need to be cared for, defended, loved and made to enjoy their innocence. Let’s be the voice of the new-born,  3-month baby who can’t form words yet or the one whose truth is disbelieved.
**We still have parents that believe in family values and uphold them at every given opportunity.

©2016. Frances Kelvin Otung. All rights reserved

Handling Loss

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I am someone who doesn’t handle losses well. I like to account for everything and I try to find anything I have lost. If you are one who walks with God (that is by faith) you have to realise that there will come a time you will not be able to account for some losses – of things, people or time. Knowing that things that happen do not take Him by surprise, I pray about it. If I still can’t get my head round it as per its location…talking about things now…I let it be and someday when I’m not so keen I either remember or it shows up. Those are the times I repeat my mother’s popular saying “If only these non-living things will just speak up and say ‘see me here’, it will save us energy and time”.

But what do I do when my loss is a person, a relationship?

Boy!

I withdraw! Deny it, engage myself in other things and believe it is only just a rumour that will go away shortly. I remove myself from it. I am not conversant with the steps encountered during loss or heartbreak according to the books or psychologists, but I know and have first-hand knowledge of the deep pain that cuts through my heart as if my valves have been severed. I actually stop breathing (I felt this during one heartbreak and yup I got my fair share). I think this deep feeling must be something with we-November people, we love too deep and hurt ‘three’ deep and if you enter our PURPLE book…sorry o! It really takes God to get you out of there. Almost like the extreme of the ends. Well, I love God, so you don’t have to worry about entering my PURPLE book because if I don’t forgive you, I don’t get any from Him either. Now back to my talk on loss.

I become silent and ‘busy’…trying not to think of what just happened and then one day the tears come for no reason and fall for a long while, as I relive every moment, miss every smile and hug, every gist and advice, every uniqueness (while trying to breathe). Then I write my heart out. Usually my best poems and articles are written in my pain season, as it draws the deepness in me to the fore. Someone had even refused to date me “because I was too deep” …it’s all good. I found out that writing for me is therapeutic and an outlet to say it as it is and not have to explain myself to anyone. To just weep on the pages of my journal the tears my eyes couldn’t bring, release the ache bearing on my soul. It doesn’t heal my aching heart completely but at least it allows me breathe a bit.

Right now, I’m not sure what I’m rambling about (one of my recovery technique), well while you are trying to understand me, please share how you handle your loss.

© 2015. Imanikingblog. All rights reserved.

Goodnight this Morning

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I’m grateful that I’m awake
And facing my day with all it takes
Plans have been laid out for today’s remembrance
Trying my best to ensure its rid of encumbrances
She needs a happy-me to relate with her
So she is reminded less of the pains the day proffers
Amidst the calls and talk,
…I promised her a big hug!
In my attempts to console,
I must have pricked her soul
For she hurriedly said ‘goodbye,
I’ll see you later on, I’m fine.’

My phone rings and I’m wondering what’s up?
Maybe it’s a ‘yab’ or news of a new life begun
He says to me ‘Where are you?’
‘In the office,’ I replied. ‘How are you?’
‘Mom’s dead,’ he dropped the news
‘How, when, why’ I asked, feeling confused
We just celebrated her birthday
And I wished her more years to stay
How was I going to know that God had other plans…?
And that didn’t include another day on these lands.
‘Who will tell my parents, I asked him?’
‘That’s why I told you’ and he sighed.

Aunty Grace

Auntie Gracie, full of grace and beauty
I remember your care and love whenever we came by
Your laughter and the glow which you exuded
Your warmth I’m sure made Jos worth staying…
For those of us that don’t like cold climes
I’ll try not to question God
But I’m sure He’s read the questions already
Has He given me an answer?
Perhaps…
As I listened to my friend read a tribute that night
One she wrote to her late husband who passed on last year
As she mentioned the two things that had kept her
And one of them was GRACE!
I knew God had given me my answers.

Auntie Gracie

I will miss you a lot and I haven’t spoken to Mummy yet. I’m wondering what is running through her mind right now. Yes, I spoke to Dad this morning and he sounded very sad as he told me about you. They will miss you so much and your friendship. Thank you for those words 3 years ago, about how you took a step in faith against the doctor’s report and how, many years later you are still enjoying that faith walk. I’m doing same now and I believe God!
Yesterday was birthday to some of my friends, a year remembrance of my friend’s hubby and now I remember it as the day you said Goodnight in the Morning.

* Celebrating Auntie who went to rest yesterday

© 2015. Frances Kelvin Otung. All rights reserved

Day 5 – A brief letter

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Dearest Miriam,

Living is difficult but when I remember your tenderness, the look as I walked away, the unasked questions your lips raised, my promise to return soon, I inhale, thriving on. Aching to be where you are, a place called home.

Speaking of home, I heard the storms swept through town, wreaking havoc on our memories, carrying people away. Sad I am but grateful you are alive.

No more sad tales. Remember I love MORE each day. Reply soonest.

Des

As I folded the letter back, I wondered how to reply Des informing him Miriam had passed on too!

Day 4- Serial Killer One

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For months I remembered every stab, every second of every day. The pain was so intense that by just watching me, mum would sometimes turn away sobbing. Once she was bold enough, she confronted me head-on and spoke to me through the journey…seeking to reach my inner most being and unplug my adaptor from its source of pain. Why did her precious daughter have to go through such …? I could hear the thoughts of her heart saying “Why didn’t it end with me? Must my children go through this?”

As you tore each piece, you smiled. Enjoying the thrill my cries brought whilst ignoring my plea to stop and just rewind the times back to when this period never happened. Who would have thought that such an innocent, quiet, really handsome boy with an unassuming look could unleash such! Maybe Psychologists, definitely not me, not my mum or the people that had to suffer as I suffered for something they had nothing to do with.

Standing by the window of my class (I think I was talking with some girlfriends…the usual stuff girls talk about) and I noticed you walking pass. You had this cool look and some twitch by the corner of your lips as if to say…“go on drool, girl… I know the effect I’m having on you!” When I noticed that, I quickly looked away and pretended to be engrossed in the conversation whilst making a mental note to steer clear of you or your likes. A part of me said “he’s innocent enough…you are too strong-willed for this one”. I loved the conquest-feeling that followed. Avoid you I did, but not for long. As sometime soon you would come searching for me and I wish I had said no and walked away. I wish, “but wishes are no horses or beggars would ride”.
‘Hi Eva’, you said
‘Hi’, I replied ‘and how did you know my name?’ I continued
‘You can know anything and anyone you want if you so desire’, you said and added ‘my name is Wande’.

Immediately I got the feeling I had just met a ‘fraternity boy’ as they are the ones that go through the trouble of searching out information about anyone and to think that the day you walked past, I felt like the conqueror not knowing I was the rat walking into a gathering of cats. Wande! Or is it Wanderer? Oh, my goodness, who will deliver me from this unfolding saga, I pondered.

Embrace_borealnz_1112962450_8a7bc7d566_m In poems, beautiful cards, lovely ‘hanging out’ times (such that made me wish classes didn’t have to close at the end of the day) those were your skills. Did I forget to mention the flowers? People didn’t believe in flowers anymore (especially from our side of the planet) but you were a lover to the core and knew how to ‘spoil’. I’m not given to flamboyant living, you understood this but every little act of love you showed, always made others wish they were us. 🙂

We were even called ‘Romeo and Juliet’ at some point until the other couple won that tag through their constant being together even to the point of missing classes. I didn’t mind giving the name to them, as what we shared was deeper and more private – not a matter for public debate. Besides, we had a reason for coming to school in the first place and falling in love to the point of stupidity wasn’t one of them.

My attitude to school changed, I looked forward to my transition school (College of Art & Science) more oft than nought and mum noticed my eagerness. She recalled my initial resistance to attend the school whilst waiting to get into University. This ‘new-me’ she couldn’t understand and knowing me, she knew something was up and this period wasn’t different. I couldn’t hide it from her as I needed advise too before I (we) got into trouble (you know the kind you are unprepared for).
“Darling, you have been really bright these days, what is happening to you?” she asked.
“Nothing mum, just a new friend I met”, I replied.
“What kind of friend?” she queried. Looking pained that I had hidden such information from her for so long, as we practically tell each other everything. “I’m grown, mum!” I thought silently to myself. Now I wish I had listened then. Who knows, I would have saved myself from many-a-trauma, and mum from being a team member on my sobbing committee 😦  By the time I described you in glowing colours, she fell in love with you too. You know I’m gifted with words and a beautiful picture I did paint. Mum just had to meet you…hmmm…someday soon I told her, someday soon.