African Inscribed

  I still do not and cannot understand how and why people engage themselves into things their heart or head desired and when it ends drastically for them, my name becomes the most toyed and favourited word on their lips. And their unholy fingers, pointing against my ceremonial demeanor and my glorious standing head. Compelling people to do things they'd have despised on a normal day is so not my thing, but you see..humans would always be humans. Like the gigantic bells in their citadels, my name clangs out stealthily in their hearts with blinded loyalty. Through the times I've been in existence, I see people who do worse than I ever did in The Beginning. The murders, witchcraft, deadly practices in blasphemously erected buildings disguised as 'churches' and many others counted as evil both in my place and beyond, are perpetrated most by them.  Though, all I ever do is 'encourage', I never push. Most times they come unto me in willingness to do the unknown I alwa...

  Why are you this way? What is absolutely wrong? You crave for kindness and attention so bad and when you are lovingly shown, you hurry back into The Cave.  Deep meditations and contemplations against why you never stop running from commitments, why actions involving isolating yourself from everyone keeps rearing its head and why 'change' isn't viral in the little emotions left in you, continuously arises. You return into what you once were like the Prodigal son, in this case, daughter. Sad. Cold. Bitter. Empty. Blaming. Selfpitituous. Lost. I understand all that you've seen and being through ... Even those traumatic incidents that ne'er stops resurfacing in packages tagged as 'Nightmare'. You actually confide in no-one (even when you did, you only let out bits in long paragraphs to those who ever cared to know). You never sleep early. You stay up late all nights to clear the head that never cleared. Thinking, writhing in pains, crying. And when you eventua...

  "Take me! Take all of me inside youu. Purge life out of this body. Seize my spirit, bottle my soul, burn it! Strip me of my skin", she moaned softly with pleasure while he kissed her in an uncultured manner, his big hands around her waist. The people roundabout them were about two dozens. Beautiful people. They had on black tailored suits; the men. And the women, sombre dresses. "Freue mich sehr für meine Tochter …" (really glad for my daughter), Cranoai's Mom, Thora, broke the tense silence in the room and everyone turned to pass a stern frown, index finger fixed tight on their lips. She pouted. "Deaaaaaar … from the deepest bottom of this dark heart”, thumps chest, “I give my life unto you this day", she repeated after the hooded Clergyman standing in the circle with them. He was clothed in a huge black cape.  "I submit my dãmned soul to you, my sturdy bones and blo. ody flesh", he uttered turning a page from an ancient book stretched abo...

  “WHEN THE DEVIL REMINDS YOU OF YOUR SIN, YOU REMIND HIM OF CHRIST'S CRUCIFIXION and RESURRECTION!”, Reverend Tom of New Haven Parish screamed, the modern microphone attached from his ear until over his lips amplifying his voice across the large hall. Men, women and little children yelled from their pews with hopeful agreement. Everyone seated here in comfort had their best smiles pasted on, even possessed the right energy for every activity; to dance, clap, shout, sing, pray—It was almost as if everything in their lives were in place—and lock hands in strangers' with love . . . Was it real? If Love were in true existence, could I be the only individual seated amongst this sea of happy people in lack? Being in the House of God—like the red bricked housing was called—didn't allow the emotions I believed everyone felt when in His Presence. I heard of unsettling peace, indescribable joy and happiness, but here I sat; stiff, very lost and empty. “Have faith, Bernice”, that ...