When we meet, see me

When we meet,
See me,
Not my meronymy.
 
Do not see me as my beautiful face like the star of the morning.
I did not decide what I would look like in the world.
Do not see me as my well-crafted lips.
Olodumare Himself decided on that extra finish.
Do not see me as my bright and pretty eyeballs.
I need those eyes to see with perspicuity.
Do not see me as my well-packed luscious bosom.
If they go down today, what can I do?
Do not see me as my soft fish-like olive skin.
I cannot recount the cost of moisturizer, sunscreen and diet.
Do not see me as my bouncing hips.
Leg works, hip works, and thigh works work.
Do not see me as my brightening dimpled smiles.
Wisdom prescribes engaging seven muscles to thirty-seven.
Do not see me as my bounty and glowing Afro hair.
The glory of 4c-hair is ingrained in care and patience.
Do not see me as my sonorous nightingale voice.
I woke to find my voice like that.
Do not see me as my perfect figure-eight shape.
It only indicates my years of discipline to keep me healthy.
Do not see me as my outstanding fashion and dressing sense.
I actually love good looks for me and all.
 
When we meet,
See me.
See my quintessence.
See my tenacity.
See my audacity.
See my sincerity.
See my dexterity.
See my propriety.
See my capability.
See my versatility.
See my perspicuity.
See my intellectuality.
I say
See my limitlessness!
 
When we meet,
See me.
See that woman
Who stands tall no matter her size,
Who possesses overboard cerebral capabilities,
Who engages in critical reasoning for global solutions,
Who lifts little hands and strengthens feeble feet,
Who provides for the homeless and the hungry,
Who cares to enthrone sanity in rotten polity,
Who advocates clean environmental practices,
Who voices the voice of the voiceless,
Who speaks against calumny and power rascality,
Who administers without fear or favour,
Who protests sacrilege in the Holy places,
Who breathes humanness in a world of inhumanity,
Who plants to feed the nation and the world,
Who revolts against sex-for-grade vices,
Who cries out against rapes and sexual molestations,
Who rebuilds the ruins of education a-falling,
Who detests unholy commercialisations and profiteering,
Who moulds the tabula-rasa of the innocent little ones with finesse,
Who promotes feminine economic independence,
Who regales in masculine reliability and responsibility,
Who makes the judicial system a true hope of the masses,
Who realises a dependable healthcare system,
Who enters the lion’s den to rescue those held as preys,
Who sees no mountain too great to surmount,
Who paints the world with light and love,
Who leaves indelible marks on the sand of time …
Who stems from the bloodline of the great African Amazons!
 
If we ever meet,
Or you hear of me,
Remember me,
And what I am made of.
Remember me and the woman that I am.
Remember me for my quintessence.
Remember me, not my meronymy. 

Widows

Tear-tinted eyes

Prayer-primed mouths

Burden-burnished shoulders

Ache-accessorised hearts

Puzzle-puddled heads

Torture-tutored lives

For absent lovers

These burdens,

Their bond

Widows!

Tactile pleasures

Booting machines

He logs in

He surfs on

Unconstrained borders

Labyrinthine monsters

Rhizomatic pathways

In, on, up, down

Backspace, return key

And she:

Simulation

Superimposition

Vacuous virtuality

Deleted data

In his shutdown heart

The cyber freak

Digital widow!

Absent lover –

Her burdens,

Their bond.

Tactile pleasures

Booting sensuousness

He logs in

He surfs deep

Uncontrolled emotions

Luscious laps

Resonant passions

In, on, up, down

Breaststroke, rear-strokes

And she:

Side-lined

Super-non-important

Valid vagrant

Detested dote

In his shutdown heart

The hole freak

Passion widow!

Absent lover –

Her burdens,

Their bond.

Tactile pleasures

Booting doormat

He logs in

He surfs on

Unutterable batters

Lugubrious slaps

Retraceable punches

In, on, up, down

Backslaps, rearslaps

And she:

Self-sterile

Super-non-thing

Valueless veg

Doleful domino

In his shutdown heart

The combat freak

Punch widow!

Absent lover –

Her burdens,

Their bond.

Retracted pleasures

Breath-less body

He logs out

He surfs out

Unimaginable passing-out

Lamentable fade-out

Receded play stage

In, on, up, down

Burn-out, celestial roll-call

And she:

Soul partner

Super-terrestrial

Varnishing vanity

Definite dust

In his shutdown heart

The frozen life

Death-made widow!

Absent lover –

Her burdens,

Their bond                                                                                                                       (2012)

Do you SPA?

The other day, I was really excited about taking my morning walk to a whole new level. Morning walks were not new to me, actually. I had always walked round the block or down the street. This morning, however, I was walking on the motorway.

My previous routines had become monotonous and uninteresting over the years. I had reached my goals of walking consistently for 30 minutes or taking at least 5000 steps over again. I desired something new. So I had to SPA:

Set significant goals

Pursue the goals purposefully

Achieve the goals accordingly

Voila, my new SPA is consistent walk for at least 45 minutes, initially and 10,000 steps, eventually.

As I walked on that day, I was overtaken by two young joggers at different intervals. I then began to imagine what could be going on on the two young men’s minds. Did they see me as serious? Were they surprised that a middle-aged woman was walking and calling it exercising? I smiled and faced my SPA.

In that little experience, however, lies a very deep lesson to draw for living. We MUST never get bothered about what people may think of us and the goals we set. What is important is setting our goals and purposefully pursuing them in order to achieve them. Those young joggers could have set their goals in hours or miles; my goals were in minutes and steps. I had put my age and previous traumatic experiences into consideration and concluded that jogging was a no-no for me. After all, the space is enough for everyone, whether they be crawlers, strollers, walkers, joggers, runners or flyers! What is important is to keep moving. Remember that the world has never set a stage for onlookers!

SPA today!

Keep moving!

You are there

Before the light uncovers its head or turns on the bed of dawn

Before the earliest hunter whistles to game or to chance

Before the cock crows to announce the glimpse of day,

You are there,

Kneeling,

Whispering resounding prayers to Olodumare for all

Fanning the faggots to fire amidst the tripod stand

Scrubbing feet’s ill-drawn patterns on your tiles.

When the lights have made their escapes from the pots of morn

When vibrant morning has spread its chiffon on the lines of the sky

When hustling and bustling crowds out nature’s rhythms and voices

You are there,

Bending,

Making the last tuck of the little one’s shirts

Picking lunches packed and ready for leave

Battling armies of dust invading the territories of your chairs and doors

As the golden pot spills and mixes with the day’s azure treasures

As the hot sun laughs, thumping the middle of the head

As the strongest farmer is forced to retire for the day’s job well done

You are there,

Standing,

Doing dishes of your king and kids and kin

Curbing a further weave of the spider’s textile at corners

Spreading the laundry rescued from the grips of oils and dirt.

When the dusk stands to prepare for the journey to the east

When the croaky choristers form in the river reeds

When the elders settle at village square for talks that fear daylights

You are there,

Bending,

Sweeping off the remnants of the soup of grass and sand

Arranging pepper, pots and plates for the break of fast

Sorting the baskets of dirty and not-so-dirty

After the fall has long bid the day bye

After the moon decides a meeting with the stars or not

After streams lull and rest from the many pangs and throbs of men

You are there,

Kneeling,

Singing the loveliest lullaby to shut my eyes

Covering my feet with the blankets of love and warmth

Saying sincere prayers for my morrow and the day after and the day after…