She sees me - Yes she does!

The doctors say she is blind,
Her senses deeply acute,
Few people I know ooze more joyful happiness,
Than she does at the sound of my voice,
A voice she can distinctly pick out from a million,

She hugged me,
She felt me,
And then she proceeded to tell me,
"You make me feel like a little girl again,
When I see you!"
Oh yes she sees me,
A medical term might describe her blind,
But she sees me probably more than anybody I know,

In her presence,
She gives me a perception of my own importance in this universal cosmos,
That nobody else does,
In her presence she makes me believe,
I am superman,
I am her doctor,
I am capable of anything,
I can protect her from anything,
I can provide her with anything,
All the persecution and doubts from the world,
Could not drown the confidence I feel in her presence,
I have never succeeded in convincing her otherwise,
So I gave up trying,

Despite all the lofty sometimes unreal impressions of me,
She sees and hugs and embraces and acknowledges,
The most authentic forms of me,
She gives me permission to be me,
To be silly, mistaken, mischievous,
To tease with graceful ease,
To be her little boy - her grand son,

And she also gives herself permission to rebuke me as needed,
Always lovingly,
Yea she is blind,
But she sees me more than anybody I know,
In her presence,
I can know her undivided attention,
And nothing else is more important,
This is why when I am in Cameroon for one day,
I try to see her if I can,
To some she is that old blind princess of the Bafut Fondom,
The doctors and the world say she is blind,
But what do they know about seeing,
She sees me and I don't care what the world thinks,
She is my precious grandmother.

Bamenda © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

The blind mother!

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To salute the blind mother,

So blind to her very own genetic make up,

She sees beyond the family face and build,

Her motherhood is honed and her vision sharpened,

She sees so deeply, so profoundly she is blind,

She has seen enough in the world to be blind,

Blind to the tribal origins of a child,

To the circumstances of their birth,

To the color of their eyes,

To the color of their skin,

To the name of their country,

Her blindness helps her see one thing above all things,

Humanity,

She only sees a child,

And every child supremely summons the mother in her,

This is to that mother,

While the world looks silently, blindly, cold with unconcern,

No drums beat at the sound of your name,

But you make the world a better place,

Rocking with motherly love the cradle that nurses the future,

Future of mankind.

Brussels © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Phenomenal woman!

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Not a definite end,

A growing journey,

Sustained by boundless grace,

Stepping out,
Standing out,
From a crowd of look alikes,
Different but not indifferent,
Phenomenal woman,
Not because of the curve of your lip,
or the size of your hip,
But in spite of it,
Not because of the beauty on your face,
But despite it,
Because of the resplendent beauty in your heart,

Phenomenal woman,
With no desire to be a man,
No zeal to usurp his role,
Phenomenal woman,
Wife to the man,
Mother to the children,
Sister to the brethren,
Farmer on the farm,
Cook in the kitchen,
Teacher in the classroom,
Worker in the office,
Engineer, doctor, president,
Phenomenal woman,

Groundbreaking resilience,
Indefatigable persistence,
Amidst heartbreaking pestilence,
Even as victim of abuse,
Witness of abuse,
Phenomenal woman,
Unspeakable graceful strength,
Unbelievable loving power,
Flowing like a mighty stream,
Phenomenal woman,

Body bashed,
Face bowed,
Not in resignation,
But in quiet painful hopeful contemplation,
Scheming a bounce back,
Mapping recovery,
The spineless ignoramus looks down on you,
The world looks up to you,
Even when they realize it not,
Phenomenal woman,
You hold the skies of our humanity in place,
Nobody can take your place,
No man can replace,
Phenomenal woman,

You are too important,
You are too critical,
You are too vital,
You are too invaluable,
True humanity needs you,
Anything which threatens,
And endangers your womanhood,
Puts mankind at the very brink,
The brink of extinction,
Phenomenal woman,

Beware! Beware! Beware!
Beware of extreme 'feminists',
Beware of male chauvinists,
Beware of overarching careers,
Beware of an overly demanding world,
Like all these beware of anything,
Anything which vies to suffocate and choke,
The priceless jewel you are,
Phenomenal woman.

Brussels © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Please let it be me!

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Been waiting years for the opportunity to apprise,

This may come to your as a surprise,

I have been secretly hoping somehow you will surmise,

Looking into your eyes I feel shy and want to disguise and revise,

I know this may be unwise but I am not keen to be wise,

I just want to be able to rise above the sweet smiling lies,

Which give you no hint of the hidden cries,

I have chickened out after numerous many past tries,

Today I must stop falling from those lofty dreamy skies,

I have time tested that I love you only,

Been dying for a day when I tell you to please let it be me,

Life filled with all the sweetness of the world without you will still be lonely,

I can no longer let that feeling be my friend so please let it be me,

I will make all the necessary sacrifices,

God helping me embrace you with all your vices,

Bring to our love many countless spices,

Tell me all the different prices,

Please let it be me,

If someone eternally holds your hand down the paths called life,

If you ever say yes to somebody who asks you to be his wife,

Please let it be me,

If you ever need somebody to help you bear the sadness,

Help you find and light the glow of gladness,

Please let it be me,

If you ever prayed for someone who can be equally wise and silly around you,

Someone who lives a life with company that richly abounds in you,

Please it be me,

Each time I see you,

Each time you hold my hand and make my heart feel you,

Each time you open your arms and bless someone in the circle of your magical embrace,

Each time you pray and tie someone’s purpose to yours with prayer like a lace,

Somebody to step with into every new tomorrow with,

Please let it be me,

I beg you tell me that you will always... always... always…

Let it be me.

Treviso © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Venice - city of love, water boats, water taxis and water everything!

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Venice the land of canals, water buses and water boats. I have heard it called the city of love... what is there not to love about Venice. I have no doubt why the literary master Shakespeare found it fascinating enough to catch his attention and summon his creative genius to pen "Merchant of Venice".

Remnants of the Brussels public transport strike actions from yesterday spilled over into today as the transportation system stammered and stuttered back to normal activity. I looked at the departure board and minute after minute of delay time piled on the supposed arrival time for the train which brought me to the airport until it was 16 good minutes of delay, stealing from my carefully planned check in. This is when I pay the price for not leaving enough buffer in time allowance to accommodate delays of this nature. When I finally get to the airport I try to check in and the check in machines cannot find my details and request that I proceed to the check in desk. Two big families with much luggage beat me to the line. At the desk two Brussels Airlines agents were working from the same computer, one apparently teaching the other, doubling or even tripling time spent with each customer. I grew impatient as the seconds ticked into minutes, inching ever closer to my flight departure time. Realizing one of the agents was being trained, an inner voice showed up from no where to whisper in my ears the reality of all those days when I am learning too - be patient Afeseh. I wrestled with my patience, trying to find a justification to let it reign in vain. As if to add salt and insult on to injury, when I finally make it to the desk, I am told that my flight has been closed. I knew I had to be calm and charming and engaging and persuasive to get an acceptable solution to the dilemma - summon the best diplomacy I know. Misdirected anger will not cut it, I need results. I explain to them that if their machines had worked as they should, I should be on the plane already. As they explored what went wrong, a minute later I was told with a big fat smile on the agent's face that I could print my ticket because I had apparently checked in already even though the  machine claimed it could not find my details. They printed my ticket and I rushed to security control, making it just in time for my flight which had been delayed - Even though flights get delayed all the time, I say God did it to accommodate me and shame my prayerlessness. I delude myself to be in full control but I am not, HE is. 

The plane sped through the run way and zoomed into the skies nose up until it balanced as it lifts itself by the sheer force of its engines and the architectural and engineering brilliance which assures its balance in the skies. It was not very long before we entered turbulent space, bump after bump after  bump like the legendary Kumba-Mamfe road from the days of my youth in my beloved Cameroon. A beautiful Italian young lady sat by me and we favored each other with genuine smiles through the flight. She offered me a piece of a bar of chocolate she ate, an offer which I couldn't refuse and accepted because I didn't want to rob her of that powerful reward of giving which only the genuine giver knows. I am glad we had that exchange for it further sealed the bonds of brief friendship which will allow us interact in the next few hours. As we approached Venice a window view revealed a breath taking roll of undulating mountains, all ice capped, stretched below the vast canopy of boundless skies. I remembered the scripture from Isaiah 40:22 "...He stretches out the heavens like a canopy, and spreads them out like a tent to live in." What a God! Glory! Glory! Glory! Then after the mountains came our initial descent into flat Venice.

As we got out of the place my new friend and I engaged in a conversation which further introduced us to each other, shaking hands somewhere along the line and telling our names. My Italian is very weak or even functionally non existent so she helped me get directions to my hotel. I bought my bus tickets and we did the first leg of my way to the hotel together. I had the option of going with a water bus directly to the hotel but I opted to do the trip in two installments and go the first leg with her as she also needed to catch the train to her final destination. I had time on my hands so why not. On the bus ride she shared tips on how to get by in Venice and a few dos and don'ts based on her own experiences from visiting the town which I have found to be very useful. When time came to separate, she needing to take the train and I continue on the water bus to my hotel, we said our byes and parted ways.  It was a heart warming introduction into Venice, favored by priceless reminders that genuine heartfelt human interactions still carry within them seeds of the finest moments we could ever know. Similarly, about three weeks ago, a few moments after I entered the city of Copenhagen, a quite elderly man walked up to me, put his arms around my shoulders and we talked like I have known him from the time I was born. His English was broken but his heart was not. 

I still had some time before I could check into my hotel so I walked around in observation to while the hour away, waiting for the water bus. As a writer I am a big observer - I relished the moment of keen observation which unlocked the parachute of my imagination and mind. Looking around brought me memories of my younger self travelling through some of the hinterlands of Cameroon. Coming from the grasslands of Cameroon, unaccustomed to such bodies of water, I was once again fascinated as I have always been when I visit land locked islands... fascinated by the incredible creative and adaptive genius of the human being and spirit in the face of adversity... The people of Venice, surrounded by water in every corner refuse to give up in the face of the challenges of living under such conditions and embrace the water like a drowning man will do a life jacket. They leverage every potential benefit the water brings and the fabric of Venitian life is wired and woven around the water, canals, water taxis, water buses, water hearses, water cop patrols, water ambulances, water mail delivery and everything water. I am very fascinated with all the engineering that has gone into building houses and structures which endure and withstand such constant close interactions with water. 

When I stepped out and walked to my hotel I received another lesson in 'les apparences sont trompeuses' meaning you cannot judge the book by the cover. I could not find my hotel because it looked nothing like what the pictures showed on the internet but once I walked into the room, the contrast with outward appearance became unmistakably clear and it is worth it all. Walking the corridors of Venice I am reminded of one of the reasons why I like Europe - the deep and profoundly preserved sense of history so palpable you can cut it with a knife. Maybe during my many walks today I took steps once taken by Shakespeare's merchant of Venice. The discovery is on! It was indeed a day of adventure, reminders, lessons, fascination and a day in Venice. 

Venice © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

True measure of our giving!

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Giving is still measured in units of sacrifice,
Giving without sacrifice will not suffice,
One difference with the love of mice,
Is that man's love is gauged by giving sacrifice,
It is not just about feeling nice,
Be warm enough to melt the ice,
Be ready to pay the price,
It may be just about giving a hungry person rice,
It is not necessarily as easy as throwing a lottery dice,
Shake off the paralyzing 'love for comfort' vice,
You might need to do the shaking twice,
For others it might need a painful thrice,
For some more than thrice to be precise,
Love for comfort can be parasitic like lice,
I know how comfort can entice,
It can be greed's evil device,
By all means do not shun sacrifice,
It is still love's running currency,
Today's most powerful agency,
Giving sacrifice,
Loving sacrifice,
Sacrificial love

Brussels © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

The treasures in the dark place

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Like the gold and oil and precious stones,
Hidden in the pitch dark bowels of the earth,
Unspeakable treasures hide buried in the dark place,
Yes, that darkest place of your life which dwarfs the light,
And ushers in an apparent perpetual night,
Don't just sit there wallowing in tears,
Throwing a pity party and beckoning an endless whine,
Don't you just seek to drown your reality in wine,
Even if you must cry as we all sometimes do,
Pick up the spades and pick axe,
Tie the flashlight of hardworking wisdom to your forehead,
Prayerfully start digging to bring light to the preciousness,
Lying in wait to be discovered by those who dig,

And with every spade of dirt you throw,
You bring the treasure closer than you know,
Believe you me there is an unseen, undiscovered treasure in that dark place,
Which will blow your mind away,
Make you better not bitter,
Quit looking in the lit space,
You will not find it in the light,
So don't you dare run away,
Before you find that precious stone,
Otherwise the loss is yours to bear.

Brussels © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

How much longer will you wear that bad make up?

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How much longer,
Will you wear that frown on your face,
Like some terribly bad make up,
How much longer will you groan and moan,
Mope because you grope,
Yet deny the light,
How much longer,
Will you give him/her the power,
To dictate and take away your peace,
How much longer will you nurse that sting of loss,
How much longer will you wallow in debilitating regrets,
When fresh opportunities beckon in the horizon,
How much longer will you whine about the problems,
When the solutions beckon within a tireless effort's reach,
How much longer?
How much longer?
How much longer?

Brussels © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Full value of the crumbs!

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Experience of the pitch dark night,
Lends value and brings great delight,
Delight at the slightest ray of light,
Even though the difference is only very slight,

To know the full value of a crumb of bread,
One must know hunger's deepest pang and dread,
To experience joy unspeakable,
The prerequisite is sadness despicable,

To have fully known the best appreciation,
One must have known the worst depreciation,
It is on the rung of the worst failed test,
That one must step to fully know the best,

When life maroons and isolation has rocked your world,
Even very casual companionship can mean the world,
When hate has perpetually been your food,
Suddenly a tiny fraction of love becomes extra very good,

If you have known war's raucous siren,
A modern city's deafening din can be serene,
If a cage has been your haven,
A chance to fly with broken wings becomes heaven,

When all you ever knew is despair,
Dim hope ensures a welcome repair,
Even though  Worst might be its name,
It can be prep for life's best game.

Brussels © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Your Stretch Marks

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Stop covering the same distance to and fro,
You will never know how far you can go,
How deep you can reach,

How much you have to teach,
How much you can dare,
How much you can care,

How much you can love,

Never discover you can be gentler than a dove,
Until you dare to stretch a little more every time,

Never underestimating what is your prime,
And even though it might come with a costly price tag of pain,

The proverbial prelude to sustainable gain,
Everybody and anybody can pay that price,

Sometimes you need to try a triple thrice,
It is mostly only a matter of choice,

To give your fullest capacity voice,

Show me your stretch marks,
and I will show you exactly by how much you have grown!

Brussels © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Better is best - No limit to better

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I love better,
Better than best,
It takes away the pressure,
Of being the best,
So that like a laser beam,
I can focus just on being better,
Better than the me of one second ago,

There is no limit to being better,
An endless opportunity to improve,
For best in a vague way sets a limit in the mind,
As best can mistakenly tell a lie that it is the end,
When  in reality you just negotiated an exciting growth bend,
For me there is no end,
Opportunities to be better boundless,
Better is best!

Brussels © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Carry the Change

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The wrongs and evil of your time,
The countless problems which need to be solved,
Will neither yield to the wishes of your lips,
Disappear at the breath of your opinion,
nor bow at the cursing of your tongue... 

We must carry the change we seek,
or we find it not... 
While words are invaluably important,
Change only happens and comes accompanied by a different kind of action,
It only comes when we go beyond the words,
Make the time and sacrifice with effort,
Rise above the wishes, 
Reach beyond the cursing and the dream,
Fold our sleeves,
Face the challenges head on,
Reach out for the dirt or bug to take it out, 
Not by scheming to only use another's skillful hands,
But with ours, together with theirs...
With our minds and brains,
Our free gift from God - no charge to think and act,
No charge!
The communities in which we live and the world could be better,
Because we lived!

Brussels © December 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Not a night so long!

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Yes I know this night is the bitterest yet,
Pitch dark night with no hopeful flame even struggling to burn with a faltering light,
Yet no matter how bitter,
No matter how pitch dark,

Never has there been a night soooo long,
There is yet to be any night so long,
That morning didn't come,
And only those who stay the night are blessed to find that morning came,

Though I know it is painstakingly tough this time,
That can not be a justifiable excuse to quit or let go,
It cannot be a valid reason to stop caring and trying,

The battle must go on and you must go keep fighting,
Your feet may wobble but let your eyes be on the tape,
At the distant even unseen finish line,

Give this moment the best of you,
For I know without a shadow of doubt that memories of times in the valley,

Which I tell you do not last as long an eternity as they seem this time,
Put the icing on the cake and sweeten the experience at the mountain top,
May God help you...

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Show me your scars!

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He asked his daddy how to know he had loved,
Not for evidence that he was in love for that is a different thing,
But for evidence that he had loved,
And his father said the evidence is in the scars son,
The evidence that you have loved is in the scars,
Show me your scars of love and I will know you have loved,
And he proceeded to tell a true story!

“He looked at her,
And shook his head,
She wondered why,
So he told her how,
How he had waited,
How long his wait was dated,
How he had been there,
How he had proposed,
And with the delicacy and precision of a surgeon,
He dissected the details of how he had been rejected,
Multiple times like an incompatible tissue graft,
He described how every “NO” had painfully tugged his heart,
And brought him to a place where he hoped it wasn’t meant to be,
Because he couldn’t imagine the journey back,
With all the milestones and reminders along the way,
He could not imagine making the journey to that first day,
When he looked at her,
And his heart took a leap,
And did a rhumba dance within his breast,
He could not imagine making the journey back to the place,
When she last said ‘No’ maybe for the umpteenth time,
And his rhumba dancing heart fell with the weight of lead,

He pursed his lips and forced an awkward smile on his face,
Took her hand and fixed a gaze on her eyes,
Wondered why she was back,
As his mind wandered and wondered if he is the spare,
His tear glands opened,
And a river of tears peacefully streamed down his cheeks,
Barely able to speak,
He spoke these difficult words:
‘you ask something impossible of me,
I have been there with you many times,
And nothing about that place appeals to me or calls my name,
Anymore…’
Then after an agonizing pause of screaming silence:
‘I love you and will always do,
I know empirically that while love is never meant to hurt,
It does hurt sometimes,
We both have too much baggage along that path,
I believe sometimes, like now, the painful “NO” is the loving thing to do,
Even though it ached my heart…'

Then slowly and deliberately and delicately,
As if afraid that it will fall off her body he left her hand,
Hugged her as if he will never see her again,
With the weight of the enormity of the decision weighing on his shoulders,
He dragged himself away,
Feeling lighter as he went further,
Towards the seas of boundless opportunities,
Determined to dare to love again,
Convinced that he had done the right thing for love,
For many many many times the proof of love is in its scars,
Remember a scar is the sequel of healing of the wound”

© Houston, October 2013 afesehngwaHilary

An elusive 'happy ever after'

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Beautiful with childlike innocence,

Marked to be princess,

Plucked from the obscurity of naivety,

Thrust into the world stage,

To meet the rising demands of providence and prominence,

Princess to a prince who appeared to have it all,

Stuff only read in fairy tales,

Becoming true in real life...

But stubborn doubt stole the certainty of her vows,

Yet she was quick to dismiss them,

She had come too far,

It was easier to ignore the signs of future trouble,

Than to confront the begging warning signs,

So in stead of running away from trouble,

She walked down the isle,

Prince and princess,

Set on a futile journey,

To pin down an elusive 'happy ever after',

Neither effort nor time,

Was a good enough ally,

Against all odds,

Despite mind boggling endurance,

In the midst of unspeakable loneliness,

The sailing ship of marriage,

Which sought the promised bliss of prince wedded to princess,

Hit an iceberg of built up deceit,

With damages too serious for the ship to survive,

And once again this was proof,

That fairy tales are fairy tales,

And real life is real life,

And in real life,

Things only work,

Following an indefatigable hard work,

Wedded to smart work,

Powered by the awful grace of God!
Sweet spot to have fun working hard and smart.

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Lancing the African Boil

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In my mind's eye,
I see a vision,
I see surgeons in the pitch dark night (media portrayed african conditions),
Working tirelessly and doing everything in their power,
Giving flickering stars (Africans hemmed in by the circumstances of their birth),
Their best chance to shine the brightest, 
Enabling them to stand by the brightest sun and still be able to shine,
Able to stand by the sun and make sunlight look like a joke,
Performing surgery and lancing the african boil,
Life saving surgery,
Not some cosmetic stuff to just look good,

In this african boil, 
I see the the antibodies confused by pathogens of corruption, 
Nepotism and all the isms which plague the land,
Assaulting the fabric of the African tissue,
Scarifying the beautiful African landscape and the beautiful African heart,
I see the killing and maiming pus begging for an outlet... 
I see the surgeons using every right sized scalpel,
Employing even the sharpest axe when the job calls for it... 
Lancing the boil... the african boil...
Lancing the African abscess under difficult conditions,

Never a pleasant or pain free job, 
Nevertheless a job which must be done if relief must come...
I can see you in your scrubs,
Taking care of the mess,
Your mess... our mess,
All the mess which makes us less!

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

One big eye!

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Every time it dawns on me,

That I might not get another chance,

I give it my all,

Even if in it I fall,

I strain to constantly hear the call,

To be the very best of me,

So as I stand in reverend awe,

In a simple act of admiration,

Near adoration,

Of this architectural genius,

I transform my whole body,

Into one big eye!

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Rights and responsibilities to be stupid!

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The right to be stupid, 
the privilege to make mistakes,
is inextricably bound to the duty to learn from it,
the responsibility to grow from them,

you cannot claim the right,
and disown the responsibility,
you cannot embrace the privilege,
and reject the duty,
Be wise!

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Only six chances to say 'NO'

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Grandma coming from a totally different generation,
Could not understand what granddaughter was waiting for,
Not sure how she settled on that number but the expectation,
Was that Nchonwie was allowed only six chances to say No,
After that it didn't matter who came next it had to be Yes.

As Nchonwie explained the technicalities,
Of how she is waiting for Mr right,
Grandma lost her patience and rained a scathing yet loving rebuke,
Having been paying more attention than Nchonwie ever cared to notice,
Remembering all those times she watched her coil in bed and cry,
Grandma explained how caution can become an ugly maid courted by incapacity,
Opining on how she thought Nchonwie cautioned herself,
Into lonely beds,
Crying lonely tears,
And hugging pillows and teddy bears,
For timelines which threaten eternity.

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Great Oaks from little acorns grow!

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Their eyes were locked in steely gaze,

That briefly froze the blood in his veins,

His heart was pounding within his chest,

So the blood could reach his brains with food,

His pituitary dropped a cocktail of confusing hormones,

As he struggled to decide what to do,

She broke the contact in their gaze,

Helplessly dainty she walked away,

Almost towards the guy but yet not,

Almost completely aloof,

But interested enough in her demeanor,

To hold the mystery in the air,

Then as she passed him by with lips pursed,

And then loosened into a charmingly magnetic smile,

One which lit the air in that southern wing,

Plucking memories from the past,

And painfully displaying them before him,

With a sigh which burned as it eased into the pleasant air of spring,

He remembered how he had called her wicked and the vilest names,

Dismissing her for being no good,

And then now she really walks away in effortless grace,

Escorted to the waiting Limousine,

The poor guy stood there planted,

Unable to move left or right,

Not an inch forward or backwards,

Gazing left him dazed,

Wishing he could right a past now irrevocably gone,

Whispering to himself,

Indeed great oaks from little acorns do grow,

Train your vision to be good to the small ugly looking seed.

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Ode to a dead mouse!

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Near perfect summer school day,

Everyday could be this way,

Great weather, volleyball, football,

Wonderful company to crown it all,

Right through I kept thinking of all of you,

More than anybody else I prayed for you,

Critical to my sample size and statistical power,

So as soon as I took a refreshing shower,

To get news of you I checked my mails,

Frantically scanned through my sea of emails,

My heart sank with the weight of lead,

To read those heartbreaking words that you were dead,

Though knocked by this umpteenth dose you were cooperative and very nice,

Closed my eyes and could spot you among all the other mice,

No doubt I had surprisingly gotten fond of you over the weeks,

I'll miss you in the next few weeks,

As the study winds through this tortuous bend,

I know you were integral part of the means to an important end,

Sadly you go with a lot of essential information,

Wish there was now a better means of communication,

I have thought about the resurrection of the dead,

To retrieve all that neuro-toxicological information in your head,

The Parkinsonian information in your steps,

I sent you to the doctors for an autopsy,

Cause of death came from one particular biopsy,

What a tragedy for this experiment,

The study will only know detriment,

Adieu dear friend...

Adieu with a heavy heart I wish... I wish... I wish... 

I wish you wouldn't die with all that information in you.

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

mydressmychoice

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In the perfect world with an utopia of freedom, people will be totally free to do and say whatsoever they please, however they choose and with whomsoever they pick. Unfortunately that world is a far cry from our extant reality and the practicalities of living in such are mind boggling and tortuously complex to say the least. We share the world with over 7 billion people, of differing and different births, influences, upbringing, religious affiliations, educational standing, social status, philosophies and beliefs. This almost overwhelming storm of such a rich variety and diversity makes the aforementioned free world impractical. However there is a kinder and more practical freedom which allows everybody to be free as long as their freedom robs no other person of their own right and ability to exercise the same. I argue that it is towards this latter form of freedom that the the evolution of man as a societal and communal being out to gravitate. Of course there are  and will be extreme outliers.

Even though history undenyingly attests to the fact that humanity in relative terms has disproportionately been discriminatory and unkind towards allowing the full and wholesome development of womankind, it is also an undeniable fact that despite the 7 billion strong differences, there are some values of intrinsic humanity which lace the majority of these differences and bring most to common ground. It is wrong for example steal or to engage in a random, senseless act of genocide. Recently in Kenya there are reports that mobs have stripped more than one woman for being inappropriately dressed, a move which has sparked the "mydressmychoice" campaign. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/11/18/kenya-mob-strips-woman_n_6177608.html
 I need to say here that this is not unique to Kenya. Naturally this begs the question... who has been vested with powers to determine and declare what 'appropriate dressing' is and means? How does further body exposure resulting from stripping resolve or make appropriate the dressing called to question?

Unfortunate incidences like this speak to a bigger problem which runs across the full gamut of the strata of the societies where they are perpetrated, from the hamlets in the village to the presidency. It is pointer to jungle tendencies where the rule of law is a paper tiger. Martin Luther King Jr. said “Morality cannot be legislated, but behavior can be regulated. Judicial decrees may not change the heart, but they can restrain the heartless.” It was Aesop who said that "We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office." In stead of stripping women maybe such an idle mob should be stripping bare those bandits who seem appropriately dressed yet are inappropriately ruling and plundering the wealth of their nations... There needs to be structures in place with punitive measures deterrent enough to eliminate or significantly reduce such chaotic and mindless behavior couched in hypocrisy, intolerance, spinelessness and lovelessness. In the case of Kenya I am certain that if one of those girls who was stripped for dressing inappropriately was the daughter of some military general or police chief, minister or president, the heads of the perpetrators will be rolling now. 

Personally I believe that there needs to be a certain manner of dressing when we are in shared public space. There are a lot of companies and jobs which require a dress code for both men and women and I am yet to see a protest about any - you either choose to comply or leave. This can be done right and respectfully, leaving people a choice to exercise freedom as long it doesn't usurp another's. This is a really tricky one. It looks okay for example to be in bikini at the swimming pool or beach which is shared public space but not in the office space.

In many cases agreed societal mores which is sometimes terribly flawed dictates that when we step out of the house into most shared public spaces some things are no longer okay, like running around naked, to use an egregiously dramatic example.... but hey, what do I know? What makes what okay at home or beyond that homely space is shaped by the cultural mores of the time, religious beliefs, upbringing, personal values, the number of scars and skeletons waiting to be hidden and levels of comfort with differing layers of cosmetic masks conjured to accomplish that public space persona or version of ourselves. The arc of the moral universe is still long and it still bends towards justice. 

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Do not wash your hands with spittle!

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I can give you wings,

But I can't fly for you,
Give you an appetite,
And provide the food,
But can't eat for you,
Give you opportunity,
But you have to seize it,
Make grace and strength available,
But you have to tap into it,
Offer you love,
But you must accept it,
Give you life,
But you must live it,
Give you a vision,
But you must heed it,
Take you to the stream,
But you must drink,
Or else you live in all you ever need,
Yet direly be in want and need,
And that my child,
Is the greatest tragedy of our time.

Do not live by the seaside,
And wash your hands with spittle!

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Socialized to be lost in masks of perfection!

Socialized to wear masks,

One, two, three multi-layered masks,

Many, varied, colored and bland,

Socialized to always look sanitized,

Prudish and prim and smooth and perfect,

Socialized to always make life seem and look cinch,

And the toughest challenges like an ever welcome breezes,

Who are you?

Who are you today?

Who stepped out of the closet today?

In trying so hard to hide,

Hide that little crazy part of you,

Hide chinks and mistakes and scars,

That imperfect side of you,

In trying so hard to  hide that which completes who you are,

You have hidden all of you,

All of who you really are,

You don’t exist,

The real you is gone, gone, forever hidden,

You are lost,

Lost, lost, lost,

In that ugly mask of  perfection you wear,

So blame nobody for misunderstanding you,
For not knowing you,
For being incapable of relating to you,

Seek perfection but be you!

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Undeserved gift of now!

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To think you are too young,

Deluded to be too strong,

To syndicate tomorrow’s imagined miseries,

Into many avoidable sorrows of today,

To postpone to live that which could be lived today,

Hoping to live in a tomorrow,

Full of uncertainty and uncontrollable mysteries,

To be steeped and trapped in the drunken stupor,

Of the tragic illusion that the next moment certainly belongs to you,

When you have the undeserved gift of now,

Reality will inevitably sink in,

Either with the subtlety of insidious water currents,

Or with the bang of an overpowering tsunami,

Now is all we got - undeserved,

Let us live in it,

Fully, unapologetically!

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary