HEARTSTRINGS

SOURCE: ideasvalentinesday

ROSE:

I always wake up to a wet sweet tingling on my cheek,

Right where your lips touch before they move to my neck.

My tongue never gets used to your flavor as it bears the drugging effect of wine, chocolates and pure love.

We’ve been married just a year and I still look forward to marrying you the very next day, and saying I do all over again when you hug me from behind.

I often wonder if this would be till the end of time.

LILY:

I have loved you for a decade or so, borne your name for half the time and will want you forever.

I took vows by the sea with waters, earth and sky echoing them in unison.

Bed sheets can bear witness of the passion we share and the lights of how often we abandon them so that I can find you with hands and not eyes.

But outside your arms I know no solace for I am yet to bear the name mother;

I often wonder whether you’ll start to mind that too.

DAISY:

At first your touch was mild and then they turned to jabs that later turned my skin purple after a day or two.

At first I never wanted you to stop speaking for your words were laced with roses and I glowed as each syllable passed through me.

Now I’m running out of heart for each word from you destroys one more inch of it and makes me less woman.

Three missed periods have ended with scarlet fluid running down my legs and more life ebbing away from me.

I often wonder how long it takes you finally destroy a woman.

IRIS:

You have renamed me, re-molded me and made me yours in a way that can never be undone.

The purity of every interaction with you saved me from myself and every hugged pulled more of me out from the clutches of a stained past.

The children are beautiful but I wouldn’t want any without you and I can only love me and them because you constantly show me how.

All this time have taught me that some things- special things like what we’ve built- can defy the Constance of change.

I often wonder how little a woman I’d be if you hadn’t come along.

JASMINE:

I have watched you love me in more ways than one; with words, gifts and care but then, I have watched you love us all in the same way.

I see the lip stains, texts, and receipts, and how you steal quick kisses from them when you think I’m not looking.

I have gotten threats from unnamed women who want more of you and forget that you are solely mine or at least, were meant to be.

But I have loved you more, kissed you more, prayed for you more and given to more of myself.

I often wonder what I’m missing and how every other women manages to have enough of it to give you.

VIOLET:

I buckle at the knees each time I hear the sound of your voice or even the horn of your car; my body lives in the constant fear of the shame my thighs face by you.

My breasts and neck hurt from where your canines constantly dig in each time the bed lamp goes off.

My nostrils are accustomed to the stench of alcohol from your breath and my face to the eerie feeling of you drooling all over it.

You’ve become a nightmare as constant as the wedding ring I wear.

I often wonder how long it will take to lose you both.

IVY:

I have watched your dark hair disappear taking with it all the passion we once had.

Sweet names have gone with age and adventure with the fading memories.

A full house at Christmas and thanksgiving keep me grateful but I often miss little things like your notes and tickles and long nights of sweet nothings in foreign lands.

These days, memories and stories keep me happy and not you.

I often wonder if we’ll ever taste passion ever again before our demise.

LEILANI:

I have loved you for half a century and more and you leave me thinking that more can be done.

I have learnt to disregard age because the longing in your eyes each time they find me have never waned.

You have taken with you “all of me” and returned to me “all of us”; something I never thought existed or could be so amazing.

You have become the best of wines getting better with age and more exotic with passing moments.

I often wonder if death will be strong enough to break what we have.

ME:

I have heard all these tales and more, and have dared love once and tasted its exotic flavor.

I have tried to protect myself from the drama and heartbreak and have prayed on every night that my tale be magical.

I have grown to desire love in its purest form and am trying to learn how to wield it.

Now I’m focused on becoming his dream even before he finds me and loving others so that we can reflect God’s intention.

Perhaps in targeting a thousand souls, I will find that “one” and would have enough love to give and room to receive.

I often wonder what beautiful tale is yet to happen with me.

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 DISCLAIMER: The names are fictional. Also, I do not suppose that these extracts embody the experiences of every woman. However, these tales are as true as many of the women you have known.

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 I hope I struck a chord in you. 

xoxo.

Nazzy

THE BODY: A VESSEL OF HONOR

When you look at me, what do you search for?

When you touch my skin, what do you hope to feel?

When you think of me, what do you remember?

Know this:

I am a person not an hourglass.

I am a person not silk.

I am a person not a fantasy.

In our world, there is no one woman. There are women; individual women, unique women, different bodies carrying different souls created to mirror the creator’s person- the lover, the helper, the caretaker, the teacher…

Tell society to redefine them; they are more than makeup, false lashes, padded bras and hourglasses. 

Tell the women to disbelieve what they have been taught; that they are not beautiful until their waists are thin and their hair stretched. Tell yourself you are above the insecurities that bind you tight.

You might have heard this before. Perhaps, you might have said it yourself but do you believe that you are enough? Do you really believe that there is nothing to be ashamed of?

Virtually every woman has some part of her body she is insecure about. It may be the ears they’ve called “big” or the extra full lips or even your muscular tummy. Let me tell you about “Beautifulness”. It is a feeling that accompanies belief in you as a carrier of a great measure of beauty. The moment you believe that there is beauty in you, you will glow with confidence and people, either intentionally or not, will believe you as well. Being beautiful is an art. You study yourself, you discover what is unconventional about your body (note that I did not say ugly), decide whether or not it should stay (In conformation with the lifestyle you find ideal for yourself), discover the features that are most striking or gorgeous and hone them. Do not dwell on your imperfections; accept them, treat them like patients that get better with care and tell them they are beautiful anyways. That is why those muscular “hot instagram moms” are called sexy while Obioma the maid who isn’t half as muscular is called “yam legs”. It is in the impression and expression.

I have been there. That world made up of me, standing alone with mesh walls surrounding me. Mesh walls made from wires of insecurity and lies that I had listened to and accepted as my story. But one day, I kicked down the wall and walked away. Today, those liars come to me with the truth, the truth I had already told myself and believed. They come seeing the real me, the one I want them to see because in their eyes lie the reflection of how I feel about myself.

I am not tall and while it used to be an instrument to taunt me years before, I now get compliments about being cute and portable and confident because that’s exactly how I feel about it. It is funny how I have a lot of people call my lips sexy and full and blabla when in secondary school, it was the first thing I’d get teased about. For some reason, I have that kinda athletic body that people go to the gym to get. So while, it’s not perfectly shaped like an hourglass, I remind myself that it is beautiful and strong and is the only vessel that’ll hold my insides together so gracefully. I remind myself that mannequins and magazine covers are not bodies of people but are illusions that cause people to neglect how unique each feature is as it marries the rest of the body to produce you. Your body belongs to a person; one who has habits, problems, feelings, goes through childbirth, gets stressed out and craves the wrong pleasures sometimes. So give it a break from all that shame, neglect, strain.

I saw a picture that showed off different body shapes for ladies; the figure 8, A-shape, I-shape and T-shape. Each time, I told somebody that there were anything but the “8”, they got mad or a little withdrawn or even defensive. They’d rather be told a lie than believe and see the truth about themselves. It was funny to me because as soon as I saw the picture, I knew I knew where I fell and I was happy to point it out.

Sweethearts, never be embarrassed because you’re not busty or as hippy as the hippo in Madagascar (the anime). Never feel lesser than the girl beside you because your eyebrows are too full; I mean, why do they line them to be wide if they wanted their brows scanty or empty? Never apologize because your ears are too wide apart (whatever that means). Care for your body without hating any part of it. Conceal what needs to be concealed, enhance what needs to be enhanced, reveal what needs to be revealed and even eliminate what needs to be gone but never beat yourself up over any part of it. Be comfortable in your skin. Go without makeup sometimes; plainness doesn’t bite. Take walks in comfortable clothing; waist trainers and padded bums are not your birthmark.

Please note that I am not against healthy lifestyles and makeup etc. On the contrary, they are the tools that help us stay beautiful but be sure that you indulge in the things in the things you do for the right reasons and that you’re not burning yourself out or living a fake life just because. In fact, find out what beauty and work out routines you ought to adopt, the kind of clothing that suits your body type, the right way to make up in accordance to your unique features and embrace a healthy diet.

It would not be complete if I didn’t tell you that as God’s beloved, you are a reflection of him. Do not insult that privilege by conforming to anything lesser than that. Do you know that your love for God reflects on you? You cannot love God wholeheartedly and despise any gift he has bestowed upon you. In other words, in loving God, we learn to love ourselves the right way and manifest his fullness here on earth. There is a depth of wonder you reek of when you perceive yourself in the light of God’s word. Being an African woman can ONLY be a gift. Any limitation you see is the scheme of the devil targeted at reducing the content made available to you by God to manifest his glory.

Stay beautiful.

Xoxo,

Nazzy

TaRnIsHeD

Love at first sight...
That's what he called it.
I call it blindness- temporary blindness- for in the end, he received his sight.
And then he saw me for what I really am...
What he thinks I really am.  

It was sunny and bright.
Nolan was at mama's and I was free.
Today was for me; for the 'me' I had lost.
I took a walk to the park.
The green gave me life.
The chrips were music to my ears.
The echoes of laughter were healing to my sullen state of mind.
Cold nostalgia swept over me as I walked into the arena...
That's what I call it.

Here, its an ocean of lotus and white roses.
The wind brags as my short white dress billows.
A smile works its way into my face and a moan escapes my lips...
Here, I am strengthened by the scent of purity.
Cold nostalgia washes over me as I think of Nolan and the days before him.
I immersed myself in comfort exuded from the petals..
Lost myself in the arms of mother nature.  

A shadow fell over me.
With my eyes closed, I could sense an invasion.
My haven had been troubled and my anger triggered.
I looked up to find a man staring, his mouth ajar in awe.
The pupils swirled like a whirlpool; in wonder I presume.
My anger dissipated into confusion.
Why was this creature here, looking into my soul?

That day it began.
That day passion was kindled.
That day I misunderstood.
This had to be love, in all its splendour.
When it wasn't Nolan, it was the shadow.
I opened the floodgates, and gave everything.
He was the one who would see what no other saw in me.  

Laughter filled my belly.
Poetry filled my ears.
Kisses covered my skin.
Passion blurred my vision.
In this was promise.

Tonight was for us.
As I combed through my lashes and adjusted my bow, I promised to show the last of me tonight. Nolan.
My shadow, I was sure, would see what no one saw.  

I walked into the restaurant to find him on his knee,
A ring clad with diamonds in his hand.
The strong melody of a stringed instrument bounced off the walls.
Light shone around him as darkness made a hedge around the beam.
With glistening eyes and near-exploding nerves he asked me to be his bride...
For a minute, all I could think of was Nolan.
Would he take us both?
'Yes'... I said 'yes'.
The room reverberated with claps as light ate up the darknss.
Surprises. I love them.
The world had witnessed it all.

I pulled him to a quiet corner.
"You should know something"
"What is it my love?" he asked as he kissed my face playfully.
My pulse quickened as the words clogged my throat.
I held unto faith that this would be perfect.
"I had no idea that you would propose tonight. I hoped to show you something else. Nolan. He's my son. He's a beautiful child. I..." I was interrupted by change.
He froze.
The kisses stopped and he held me still as he looked into my eyes.
It felt as though shards of ice pierced through my skin.
His touch suddenly burnt my skin.
His gaze was cold like death.
The scales fell from his eyes and he walked away.
He saw what others saw.
A tarnished woman.  

I stood there watching him and his friends talk.
Must have been about me.
I saw one shake his head and another snap his finger.
Shadow gulped down something in a glass and threw the glass on the wall.
He forbade me, Rejected me, abhorred me.
I was soiled... 'Mother of a bastard'.
His friends patted his back as he cursed the knowledge of me in regret.
A tear ran down my cheek leaving a trail of pain.
Insanity tore through me and I wailed.
I ran wildly, calling for Nolan.
Nobody cared enough to run after me.
Nolan was outside waiting for me.
I had asked a friend to hold him there.
I was supposed to bring him in after I told 'Shadow'.

I took my son in my arms and wept uncontrollably.
'Mama' he kept calling, his little hands all over my face.
They had seen a lie.
For my miracle, he saw a curse.
For my blessing, he saw a burden.
He saw everything but me;
The 'me'  worthy of love,
The 'me' he could love,
The 'me' that was true,
The 'me' he would never have.  

The ring suddenly felt like a yoke.
I pulled it off and threw it blindly into the dark night.
With it, I cast off all the pain.
I wiped my tears, kissed my son and walked away.
..............................................................................................................................................................
We live in a society that thrives on stereotypes. An unmarried pregnant woman has to be a slut. A well groomed young man is most likely gay. We are forced align our lives with often baseless beliefs which are meant to curb decadence.
We forget that in life, things are not black or white. Some things are grey and should be treated as such. I am not making excuses for people who have careless sexual relations. I am only saying that sometimes, stories and motives differ. An unwanted baby is enough consquence. The society should cease to inflict more pain on mother and child.
People have diverse beliefs and I respect that. While you do not want to marry a single mother or father, you need not hurt them to prove that.
Recently, I was having a conversation with my mum and aunts and everyone started to dissect a young unmarried woman who recently had a baby. I had to come to her rescue, not because her actions are morally upright but because she is human and makes mistakes and has probably learnt a lesson or two. Nobody sees that she may become a more responsible person, a caretaker, a fighter, a teacher, a lover and a breadwinner.

This brings me to the question a friend asked me some weeks ago.
'Who would you rather marry: a divorcee or a single parent?'
Please drop your comments and opinions below..

xoxo,
Nazzy

MY SEX, MY CROSS

I walk around with this weight beneath me.
This weightless weight...
It defines me,
It qualifies me,
It is who I am.
With it comes release, pleasure and then pain.
My sex.

I am a girl and I had not a choice.
This gift was thrust upon me for reasons beyond my horizon.
I have accepted it.
Why won't you?

I'm the helper, the life bearer, the care taker.
I'm not the lesser being.
I do not care to be held a prisoner by a lifeless part of me.
I'm more than just 'female'.
I'm more than 'breasts and buttocks'.
I'm more than your 'saddle'.
I'm a woman... A person with feelings and dreams and the right to choose.
I'm not a rag doll, a trophy, a baby factory or a piece of furniture...
Don't treat me as one.

Let me live.
Let my ambitions thrive.
Let my talents and skills flourish.
Let the fire of hope in me burn.
Let my choices be mine.
Let me live for myself.

Dear Man, I ought to stand beside thee and not beneath.
Dear Culture, stop being biased against me.
Dear Religion, Aren't we all equal before God anymore?
Dear World, my ovaries are not yokes.

We are omnivores and not sin eaters.
We are not food to satiate the hunger between your legs.
We are not punching bags; find your way to the gym.
We are not weaklings because we are tender.
We are not dumb because we ought to submit.
We are not for the night, rag dolls to please yourself
Nor for the day, handbags to adorn yourself.
We are not victims.

I am the lover and the mother,
The wise and the strong,
The warrior and the teacher,
The cure to the insanity called "manhood",
The balm to soothe the madness of the young.
I am 'the woman'.

My sex is not a curse,
Today I cast off that cross.
I'll live above your beliefs.
I'll break loose from your grip.
Gender is itself
And I am myself.
                                                                                                                                                                   

This is for every woman whose sin is being a woman. Its for everyone who has lost anything as a result of gender discrimination. Everyone preaches 'gender equality' but what about the woman who is beaten up everyday, or the housewife with no self worth or even the African woman being ridiculed because she bore only female children.
Despite the growing rate of civilization, some people are still stuck in the world of male chauvinism. If you are a woman, stand for yourself; you have a right to be your own person. Fathers, invest in your girl child; she's just as good as a son. Men, please treat us right, the difference between you and us is the 'Y chromosome'. Ladies, your sex is not a tool to earn pity or evade honest  work.
Appreciate the women in your life.

xoxo,
Nazzy