You show up raw,

every single day,

Open wounds,

Scars of pain,

Sad -happy face,

Insecurities written all over you,

your heart on you sleeves,

And walk into the unknown,

Expecting nothing but the best,

You hide the shame of your progress,

Your slow progress,

And even call it progress,

When deep down,

You just feel the stagnant of it all,

You smile at the drying flowers,

And tell them to hung in there,

Because you know the feeling so well,

You laugh at the grey sky,

And feel a feeling of comfort,

Comfort in a family situation,

One look at your self,

And a tear is about to find it’s out,

You are angry because,

You have cried over this so many times,


Now you decide not to waste the tears,

You wisper to the tears,

“we will cry another day”,

Your whole body is ashamed to be you,

Your mind is tired of you,

Your heart gave up along time ago,

Your soul went out wondering somewhere,

Now you are an empty being,

Covered in the luxury of a hopeless life,

Waiting on a future,

On a future,

That might come.



Has I grew up,
They constantly told me this,
“The decisions you make now,
Will affect your future”,
I remember being so scared,
Scared to make any mistakes,
The what ifs and what nots,
Were way louder in my ears,
Than any thoughts,
I know it sounds stupid,
Or maybe Abit naive,
But I felt like I was ever chasing perfection,
I was after an illusion ,
Or let’s say a dream I created,
In my own head,
I was after the impossible,
But it didn’t feel so then,
I knew I’d attain the illusion,
I knew I could create a perfect future for me,
I calculated each move I made,
I traced and erased all that looked,
Short of my perfect future,
I said no to so many things that,
Could have taught me a thing or two,
Just to keep steady my perfect future,

You see,
I wanted to be different,
I wanted me, with no blemish,
I wanted me like no other,
I wanted to make my dreams fall into place,
But I forgot one thing,
I forgot that in my mistakes I’d learn,
I forgot that by falling time and time again,
I was creating the dream I so much wanted,
I forgot that it was so fine to feel defeated at times,
I forgot to makes the same mistakes,
Time and Time again,
And to learn from them time and time again,
I should have looked myself in the eyes,
And say” today you will fail,
It will hurt,
You will feel destroyed,
You will give up and stop to tremble,
You will cry and taste every tear
But you will keep going”,
And then learn to live,
And chase after that only which,
Makes my heart throbs,
And throbs with excitement,
Excitement of fear,
Excitement of dissapointments,
Excitement of life.


I have suffered with acne all thought out my adolescence life and even right now at the age of 24 I still battle with it. I grew up around really strong and amazing women. Starting from my mom, my aunties to my sisters and they embodied what beauty looked like in my eyes; clear facial skin.

I spend most of my adolescent life admiring and belittling myself infront of anyone I saw whose face was so clear. I felt ugly , small, useless and just unwanted. I doubted the people that showed interest in me, just because of my acne and the huge dark spots on my face.i felt like they pitied me or they were mocking me.if someone looked at me it felt like they were looking at my face;my acne.

I constantly went about buying all the facial products I goggled that were considered effective but I always ended up back to the same spot I was. My low esteem issues got the best of me , I was scared to approach people and I began treating the people around me with good/ amazing/ clear skin way better than the ones that looked like me. Everytime I looked in the faces of people with acne like me, I felt like I was looking into a mirror so I would avoid them, in the process I hang out with the clear skin people making myself look and feel even uglier. I was lost.

Today in the social media world where everyone is portraying a perfect everything , it’s hard to keep up. But I am glad to look into my Instagram and Facebook feeds from time to time and see people just like me, to see people openly living their lives and battling acne , and they are honest about it. I always looked at their smiles and I feel the genuineness in their lives. So I aspired to become that way, to live my life embracing my progresses and failure and not to let acne stop me from being my authentic self

These days I look in the mirror with admiration instead, there are day I still feel ugly but most of those good days I just see the progress and my journey. I see the traces of spots indicating the my story and my life openly. I started to pay more attention to life as a feeling and a sight through my own eyes rather than seeing life from other people’s eyes and perspectives. It’s not all rainbows but I can confidently say, I chose to see me for the person I am, to fall in love with me, to admire me, to encourage me and most importantly to be happy by me,with me.

Maybe I chose my battles poorly this time, or maybe I chose them wisely who knows.


what am I feeling right now?

Good question, i want to rip a page of my life. That page that I felt held alot of me;my identity and my happiness. It’s a page that contains alot of unfinished and unresolved chapters, the kind of cycle I enjoy and waves I love to ride. The page with alot of uncertainty and yet alot of sure moments, moments that I believe I was really happy and excited about life. All the memories that cover this page that are stuck so deep in my heart giving me a feeling of life and living, I geuss that what makes it so hard to rip it off and just forget about it. The many chapters of laughter and adventure yet emptiness and a feeling of search an longing. The thought of what if and what could have been making me question each and every memory that holds the letters of this page together. I tried to stick each Chapter to the other in an attempt to make me feel some kind of way ,but this whole page seemed messed up. Looking back it felt so real at the moment yet so wrong….

I want to hold on to a chapter that can best describe what I feel, maybe a page but I feel like I will hold on to the whole book instead.i flip through each page of the memory filled book and I can hear the laughter’s and feel the affection in the letters and the love that ignites through the pages.its like I am having a conversation in between the letters or maybe a whole life story in between each sentence. The meaning of the whole story changes each time I think about it.


The Earth was void,with no form, dark and with no life. It did not look like home. God, then created everything in it. the trees that he stationed on the ground, the stars, moon and sun that were on the sky. He created a home for everything. And In Everything he placed His heart.

In today’s world filled with rushed thoughts and moments, exhausted wants and wicked people, everyone yearns for a place or just something to call a home. That place or that person who will make them feel loved, peaceful and fulfiled. we yearn to be like the stars, moon, sun and the trees. we build houses to try and create homes only to end up alone in those houses filled with people.

we stay in relationships to try and find a home in the other person only to end up lonely and depressed. people live their lives running after homes, some don’t get lucky and die even before they find a home and some are lucky enough to find a home. A home where they feel like home. a home is a peaceful place, a peaceful person ,  peaceful food. that thing that makes you feel alive and fires your heart with so much fuel. A home is a connection. And that’s why you meet someone and feel like you have known them all your life while you can barely say the same thing about your own siblings. we rush to fill voids in the aim of finding a home. we talk to strangers and go to new places to find a sense of home.

I am thankful somehow in this life I am living, I have found someone I can call a home. someone I never knew but who saw me for the kind of person I am . I am so great that I met the one man who took me in like his own blood and make me feel loves, appreciated and valued. I am one of the lucky ones.



Same grass,
Different Height
Different gist,
Different grip,
To the same ground.

That is what my father woould say anytime we sat at this place. Unlike the previous years today I was alone. I observed the rock we usually sat on but today it looked so different. I believe it must be the years of tough weather it tried to withstand. The then small strips of joining rocks were now deep hollows of dry dusty surface. The edge is much sharper now than before. The exceptional beautiful grey and brown pattern that made this rock so different from all the rest had dissapeared and the surface was replaced by a very rough and unattractive surface. I took my usual spot on the rock and sat. The weather had definitely shown no mercy neither to the ground. The thick bushes were now dead leaving behind traces of weak lifeless roots on the ground. A thick cloud of brown dust rose from time to time just a few centimeters above the ground, just enough to be clearly visible from a distance away.

The sky had a contrast view to the ground. The sun was slowly sinking down west. It’s last rays beautifully spreading to the far end giving an exquisite view of a round shaped image. This was the time my father and i would come and sit here,right next to each other. Him on my left, or better yet me on his right side. He was an average man in height and weight,well spoken and always direct to the point. This was the place he would sit and talk to me and I would listen ,barely uttering a word in response.

I loved our silence conversations,filled with constant long silence and replies that only remained in my head. It was these multiple times that I came to understand this man I called my father. The only time him and I could spend quality father-daughter time away from everyone. It was like at this moment the world stood still just for the two of us to exist. Today of all days I wanted him here. I knew I would not say a word to him but his presence would have ment alot to me. I looked at the half drunk bottle of Scotch right before me and knew right in my heart what a dissappointing view that would have been to my father. He would always tell me;
“My daughter treat life at your level best at all times. Each day that God grants you life,tackle life like you are a man and a woman. Never be afraid to fly but I tell you be scared of walking. When you feel you need support,hold on tight your right hand by your left hand ,because the most important support you will ever need is your own. Settle for nothing less short of your best dreams at your view. And remember I want you to learn to smile even when it gets hard”.
I was so young then. I had never forgotten his words. But I grew up and I met the world,I met reality and I saw how life treated me. My father’s words felt way difficult to understand let alone execute.

I opened the bottle of Scotch and drunk from it. The intense liquid traced it’s way very slowly down my throat leaving behind a very sharp pain. It felt as though it was digging it’s way into my flesh trying to reach my bones.I swallowed and put the bottle right where it was. I wondered what my father would say if he were here. Yes,he would be so dissapointed but I yearn for his words instead. He would give me a piece of his mind with no filter. But today I had alot to say to my father. I want him to know that;
“I messed up. Father, I feel broken inside. All my dreams, that I had set out to achieve seemed so unreachable. My own mind has been a weapon against me. I wanted to make you proud of the daughter you rised. I wanted to see you smile at all my success but it’s not possible. Father life threw stones at me and i spend years dodging them and assembling a few to build walls around myself. I could always remember your words father but I had no strength to act upon them.Father life got so hard I gave up over a million times and today, right now at our spot,I am full of fear at starting over. Failed dreams ,failed life. I will always walk father,maybe flying isn’t ment for me.”
I broke into a loud cry. Tears rolled down and hit the ground,the same ground that held the roots to my dreams so alive then. I covered my mouth scared that someone might hear me from afar. Or maybe the fear of hearing my own cry terrified me.

The grass dried up,
The grass fell on the ground,
The ground loosened it’s grip,
The grass was blown away,
Now the grounds are bare.

I calmed myself down and sat up straight. If he were here he would not have wanted to see me like this. But he is not here. Maybe I can wallow in my reality for a bit. Allow myself to be weak. Let myself give up on everything I know. Just for a little bit. Today I will let myself cry and get broken,I will let my fear get the best of me. Maybe after all this I will be ok again.

The sun had now rested down below enough to allow the moon take its time-course. I picked my Scotch bottle up and held it into a tight grip,then I stood up. I could feel my cheeks hot from the dried tears. My nose was running abit making my breathing abit difficult. I started to make my way back home, repositioning my face to make sure i didn’t look like I had cried. I started to walk home,not steady enough not wobbling but neither upright enough to walk straight. But I kept walking.

From just a few meters away I saw an image.The image was not clear but it was definate that it was a human, a man .He was walking slowly towards me and has he moved closer to me I could clearly notice that it was my father.In his right hand he held a walking stick as he tried to keep his walking posture straight. He got close and closer , the hand of time had clearly worked against my Father. He was still quite average but his eyes had sunk deep into his skull. His skin just abit loose from his bones. He looked weary . He had on the same brown jacked he liked so much.He looked at me, and for the first time in along while I could not tell what he was thinking. I could feel his own eyes searching deep into mine. He knew me so well to know that I was not myself today. I stood still awaiting the reality of his words upon my situation.He oponed his mouth and looked straight into my eyes, he then said,” my daughter the grass will grow again.” I broke down in tears.


I had a bunch of them, friends I mean. Well I would say I had countable people I could call friends and maybe count on them ounce in a while. I knew I had people I could reach out to, or maybe thats what I believed, I don’t know. You see, I am the kind of person who opens up my heart, maybe In hopes that someone out there is also doing the same so in the process we just , I don’t know, merge and become close. Maybe I imagine way too much but genuinely, I know deep down I am an amazing person.

I have met people who used me In the name of friendship and tore not only my trust and heart, but helped me build a stronger wall around me in the name of protecting my self from pain, but again closing myself off means not being able to meet real and genuine people out here. But again maybe I will be protecting myself, right?

I have also met amazing people, crossed paths with the most inspiring people. Then somehow along the way I think I messed it up, or maybe they messed it up. I learnt from them and I wonder if they did from me too. Along the way I felt lost in their lives and got caught up in there lives stories and just …got lost. I spend my alone times trying to figure out who I was. That really broke me. I constantly asked myself if it was worth it. I also asked myself if they felt the same way or was I just over reacting , but I felt it, so it was real. So at the end of the say I was alone again

It’s the fear of connection then again a disconnect that really haunts me. The time spend investing in someone in the name of Friendship then suddenly all goes to waste and it’s starting all over again. Imagine a thread of love,hope care consolation all just gone in the dust and it’s back to as you never existed . Now your left wondering, did I just over share or was I just caught in the moment. The what if and this is what I should have done keep killing you more than anything. You creat correctional episodes in your mind in the name of easing the pain and disappointment then reality hits and… It’s back to the pain peak.

So I gave myself a period to just be Alone and be my own friend. I was scared. I thought I had nothing to tell myself. or maybe the fear of reality flashing in my mind all alone scared the fresh out of my bones. The thoughts of silent self conversations, and silent real answers, was what I was trying to avoid for a while. That I know. But this time I was ready to face myself. To be my best friend. I knew this was going to be a journey that will break me, maybe somewhat destroy my self faith and self reliability , in my head it felt like a kind of torture I was literally putting myself through but I was willing to do this alone, I had to find the answers I so much wanted to find to my unknown questions.

I somehow wished I had a life map or a life compass. I needed some sort of direction around myself. Some direction to my body, my mind, heart and soul. I was lost, in my own self. This journey won’t be the easiest and the thoughts were making it even more harder with each second I took a breathe. So it will be just me and myself and I. How will I tell myself its gonna be okay when all hell seems to be breaking loose right in front of me. It’s scary.

My expectations of being alone for a while were that. It was gonna be quite. You know being alone with no one to talk to just you. Silence, Right??. Well I was wrong. I remember this one morning.

I snapped from my sleep really early. It wasn’t clear in my head whether I had had a bad Dream or I was not sleepy anymore. My head was allover the place but I kept a clear focus of the pain I felt in my heart. It was that kind of pain that kept you in pain and numb at the same time. I felt Terrible. The clock beside me read 3:16am and I knew I had a long way before the sun rays. it was quite outside as if nothing was living. My thoughts recollected