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WHAT IS A WOMAN?

The Perfect Body

They usually said a problem shared is a problem solved but Rachel had never understood the logic behind that statement until she experienced it firsthand. Rachel is a 22 year old woman who had always been on the chubby side not until four years ago when she and her family moved to Manhattan. She wasContinue reading “The Perfect Body”

WHAT IS A WOMAN?

Woman, the other gender that is the opposite of man, the ones with vagina’s and breasts, the ones expected to be weak even when it is universally known she is strong.Woman basically meaning not a man, girl, lady, other but definitely not a man.Wow, a woman can mean so many things. Woman can be saidContinue reading “WHAT IS A WOMAN?”

Woman, the other gender that is the opposite of man, the ones with vagina’s and breasts, the ones expected to be weak even when it is universally known she is strong.
Woman basically meaning not a man, girl, lady, other but definitely not a man.
Wow, a woman can mean so many things. Woman can be said in a scolding or chastising context, woman can be dangerous, woman can be married. What is my point where are my driving towards? We’ll get there. Please note that I hadn’t said who but used the pronoun what.
I have listened in on conversations among my mother and aunts, they’d exclaim because I’m a woman and I’m supposed to behave myself, I just let it go or I just choose silence. Isn’t it funny, the phrase because I am a woman mostly used my us women is funny and also other wise really impractical and unnecessary. Because you are a woman, doesn’t automatically imply that you have to fit into that perfectly laid out role that society has placed and said yes, this is what you’ll be because you own a vagina. Absurdity in its highest form is when I hear that phrase people! Isn’t it sad that we don’t fully want to accept that we can be anything despite the fact that we are women? I couldn’t fully understand that phrase because I thought that my true feminity would magically materialize once I could say oh, I choose this or that because I am a woman. This is untrue and should not even be a thing existing.
This is what a woman is,
A woman is strong, even when it is expected that she should crumble to a heap and cry and maybe that’s what she’s supposed to be doing but she won’t because she’ll think that oh no, I should think about my family, I should take this as a lesson and move on, improve, be better. A woman is resilient because she would not easily give up. She’d try to win that hard hearted husband over even when it would’ve been quite impossible, she’ll try to save that marriage and keep things normal so that her children would keep on thinking that life is easier than it actually is. She’d put up with those unkind relatives just so she’d keep things at peace. Women never stop trying. A woman is extraordinary, not just pretty but beautiful beyond words. A woman is no man but is indeed a woman because even though it is a hard ball to swallow, men still need women. It wouldn’t hurt to just appreciate a woman once in a while because her every battle that is unknown to you. It is what moulds her to be what she is, so when you see a woman, say thank you for being a woman, you’re doing great. And to all the women out there, you can be so much more than you think because like water you move, your soul and heart carried with you and like rubber you stretch the farthest way possible until you feel satisfied that you are home. Don’t tell yourself not to be, tell yourself to become! Because you are so much more than you can imagine, don’t conform to what society says you should be because you may loose yourself. And as my final parting words, quoting the famous words of Rupi kaur,
“I WANT TO APOLOGIZE TO ALL OF THE WOMEN I HAVE CALLED PRETTY BEFORE I HAVE CALLED THEM INTELLIGENT OR BRAVE. I AM SORRY THAT I MADE IT SOUND AS THOUGH SOMETHING AS SIMPLE AS WHAT YOU’RE BORN WITH IS THE MOST YOU HAVE TO BE PROUD OF WHEN YOUR SPIRIT’S HAVE CRUSHED MOUNTAINS. FROM NOW ON I WILL SAY THINGS LIKE YOU ARE RESILIENT AND YOU ARE EXTRAORDINARY NOT BECAUSE I DON’T THINK THAT YOU ARE PRETTY BUT BECAUSE YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. “
Au Revoir Mon Cheries

Side note: this post has been long over due, I would love to blog everyday because I have a lot to blog about but my blog has been under refurbishing for quite a while and it’s still not finished. I just decided to put this on here because I really think that I would have ran mad with this post sitting in my phone’s library crying to be read. I sincerely hope you can forgive my incompetence and I also hope to get a lot of feed back. Also, I hope you like this post as much as I like it. Thank you for the journey, everyone I really appreciate how far we’ve come.

The Perfect Body


They usually said a problem shared is a problem solved but Rachel had never understood the logic behind that statement until she experienced it firsthand. Rachel is a 22 year old woman who had always been on the chubby side not until four years ago when she and her family moved to Manhattan. She was 18 then, ready to start her new life as a citizen of America and the best thing about it was the promise of new and interesting friends at the high school she would be attending.

The first day of school was the absolute worst for her. After all of the excitement, the rambunctious planning and the intense scouring of the school website, Rachel had felt too ready for her first day but she would later come to hate it and herself. Everybody called her fat that day and the following weeks on. Normally, being called fat in Nigeria would not be considered and insult but not in Manhattan. Apparently, being fat was a crime so every teenager there aspired to attain the perfect figure like that of Naomi Campbell. Constantly, she was made fun off, called a fatso, called ugly, tripped and made look stupid. Sometimes, she wondered whether it was only because she is chubby that she was made fun of like that or maybe it had to do with the fact she is Nigerian. Slowly, she began to feel ugly, worthless. She cried a lot, felt like a complete looser and hated her body. The worst part was that she had still not made a single friend. No one wanted to be friends with the ‘looser’. One afternoon after school, Rachel wanted to shop for a new pair of jeans. She walked into a store called forever 21, the petite girl at the counter who was filing her nails glanced up at her and then blurted.
“I don’t think we have your size bun” Rachel stopped short in her stride. Those words felt like a slap to her face. Was she that fat she asked herself? To her fat was now an insult, a sin so at she sprinted out of that store, she decided that eating was no longer a thing she did anymore. If being slim was what she had to do to be liked, she would it at all costs.

She started dieting, eating less and less every day, sometimes nothing at all. No one noticed, no one asked. She started to lose the weight alright. By the end of that semester, she had lost 10 pounds. She was still called fat, still called made fun off so she pushed further. Browsed about anti appetite medications and purchased them with a fake prescription. She drank only water most of the time, sometimes she allowed herself a little serving of cucumber because she had heard that it helped shed fat. Her mother never asked why she skipped breakfast, lunch and dinner weeks in a row, her father never did either. Every day she monitored her progress and with every meal that she forced herself not to eat, the more weight she lost. If she ever felt hungry, she tamped it with a few pills of anti-appetite medication.

On her very first Christmas in Manhattan, she didn’t eat the turkey or do the things she initially planned. When they gathered at the table for Christmas dinner, she tossed her food around her plate, feigned being full and dashed upstairs and forced herself to throw up the little she had consumed. She lost more weight and with every pound she lost, she lost her strength. She was exhausted more often than not, tired always but it never occurred to her that it was all the food she didn’t eat, all the pressure of losing weight that was killing her. What she noticed though was that people stopped calling her fat. She got asked to homecoming, someone greeted her in the hallway, and someone asked her for her pen in the chemistry lab. With every new achievement, she pushed further. She didn’t notice how much she deteriorated until her mother finally noticed. She called her up to the master bedroom, where she sat with her father.
“Rachel, you’re becoming a lot slimmer oo, hope you’re okay?” she said. Her father said nothing.
“I’m alright, I’m just growing up, and I’m losing the baby fat like you said I would.” Her mother often said that when her aunties teased her. Now she used it with her mother because she was certain she’d buy it.
“You’re sure you’re not sick nkem” her father asked.
“I’m fine daddy” Rachel lied. Her parents didn’t enquire further.
Weeks later during gym class, she collapsed. That day, the raucous that enveloped the school would be the only thing Rachel would see before finally giving into the cozy darkness and being shipped off in the back of an ambulance.

“She is anorexic” the doctor would tell her parents who would vigorously forbid it. Later as they came to the realization that truly their daughter was anorexic, they would hate themselves for not noticing sooner. Her father would grow in on himself, speaking less and less. For three weeks Rachel was unconscious. She was dehydrated, had insufficient iron, low blood sugar, and a whole lot of other complications. These were the symptoms of anorexia as her mother goggled. Her parents cried a wholesome, her mother especially blamed herself. After the third week, when she was finally conscious, she was given actual food and eating it was terrifying. There was an internal battle, all the hurtful things people called her and her anxiety associated with being fat resonated and mocked her that in the end, she ended up having a full on panic attack. This sort of behavior was new to her parents therefore they had absolutely no idea how to handle it. This was her very first incident with being anorexic and having an eating disorder. She’d go through series of therapy, relapse, go in again and still relapse. In the space of three years, she was unable to maintain a particular weight and body size because she kept on going back, trying to conquer and outrun the anxiety of being fat by not being fat. Her mental health deteriorated, she didn’t graduate high school in time either. The worst part was that none of the supposed friends she made came to support her, to see her, to ask how she was.

The last straw that almost consumed her was 10 months ago. She almost died. Everything took a drastic turn. Her father wasn’t doing well. He shriveled and became this shell of a person. Her mother was consumed by worry, she no longer watched her soap operas and laughed loudly, instead she researched diet plans for anorexia victims.
That night, for the first time in years, Rachel could see that she was self-sabotaging, that what she was doing was destroying not just her life but the life of her family as well. as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, and saw how much she had lost, how malnourished she looked, how ugly she looked, she made a conviction that this game, that her head kept playing with her, the voices in her head that tore at her telling her that she would never be enough until she was thin, would stop. She would end it, she would get better.

As she stood on the vestibule in the Manhattan sun, staring at the huge but homey building where she would be attending therapy with a group, she smiled. She had come this far and she wouldn’t look back.
This group was not the regular kind; it was a group for people who had been through the emotional abuse of body shaming. The room held a woman with huge breasts, a man who was fat without it being a sin, a woman whose face looked like it had been burned, a really thin guy and a vertically challenged girl. In that room filled with beautiful misfits who shared their experiences, Rachel couldn’t help but feel like she’d found home. All of the self-harm, the self-loathing was on a road to its end and as the circle reached her turn, she stood, breathe out and said the things she’d learnt even if she could have learned them sooner, she was grateful to have come this far.
“My name is Rachel Adams, I am an anorexia survivor and a victim of body shaming but I have learnt that the self-harm is not worth it. Letting myself be subjected to such emotional abuse, and feeling worthless destroyed me. In the end, body shaming should not be tolerated by anyone. To be loved, is to love yourself first, whether or not the way your body is fits into the standards of a group of people that don’t matter and as much as body shaming can break you, I have learnt that I shouldn’t let it. These people don’t understand what their actions mean so my advice is this; body shaming will always exist, but don’t let it matter more than you. Don’t let the people carrying this act out break you because in the end you deserve better.” This she had learnt and would live to tell.

Six in out of ten people are body shamed every day. During a survey organized by bustle magazine, 69 percent of women confessed that body shaming has been a thing that happened to them at some point in their lives. Personally, I believe that the one thing that has influenced the way most people see themselves, the way most people associate what being pretty should be is the fashion industry. Now whether most people agree with me or not, the fashion industry has indirectly taught us that the only kind of pretty is slim or thin. The most important lessons that our society has failed to teach us is how to love ourselves. Irrespective of the way your body is, please love yourself. You cannot grow away from the I am not good enough mentality if you don’t learn. It’s hard to see how wonderful you are when you think this way but I’m telling you, the way your body is doesn’t matter. What matters is that you are living your best life, you are a beautiful soul whose heart thinks of good, you’re kind and smart and funny and anyone who doesn’t see you for what you really are does not deserve a spot in your life. Go diets, work out, stay fit because of you, not because of what society says or what other people think, do it for you. Young women and men are taught not to love their bodies and yes, I mean it when I say taught. When we’re younger, we never worry about that fat, we don’t poke at ourselves and decide that we hate ourselves. It is so wrong and the amount of pain it causes is something that is insurmountable. Yes some people may criticize your body or the way you look but you don’t need to let it get to you. Body shaming is something that’ll always exist so it’s up to us to start the campaign alongside others to end this inhumane act. And to those who think they aren’t body shaming when they mock the stretch marks on another person’s body or talk about the how fat someone else is, or how thin or how short, think twice. Body shaming destroys a person emotionally and psychologically so please stop. Finally, to those who have been and are still going though this type of abuse, here are movements that will encourage you to push on.

The less is more campaign on instagram has helped thousands of souls recover and learn to love themselves. It’s easy to find, just search for it on instagram or you type in @ rawbeautytalks instagram handle

The dove campaign for real beauty has recently surfaced on instagram. It has touched and encouraged women especially feel like they should feel, beautiful. This campaign is currently on going and is on the Dove instagram handle.

The STYLELIKEU campaign has charted a new course of history by not only incorporating slim women to model clothes but women of all sizes. Again, it’s readily available to anyone who knows what instagram is.

Melissa Fabello became a body image activist after her recovery from an eating disorder which spurred on due to an abusive relationship. Now she spreads the gospel of loving your body and preaches it because during her recovery those was what got her through. She does this with the help of her YouTube channel. She’s easy to find and ready to uplift always. I speak from experience.

To everyone in the world who eventually reads this, your body doesn’t deserve the self harm and neither do you. Let’s campaign against body shaming and body image discrimination.

TRIBALISM IS THE NEW RACISM!

Change the world, One word to at a time!

Racism to me has always meant the natural discrimination of a person because of their race or in most cases skin, let’s see what google says: prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular racial or ethnic group, typically one that is a minority or marginalized. Wow! So much content I’ll restructure soon.

Let’s look at Tribalism. In Nigeria, and to a Nigerian, tribalism basically means discrimination because of a persons ethnicity or technically where they’re from. Moving on, I have to say that I was so compelled to write this because tribalism seems to be the new racism these days especially in African countries. Now, I understand the full gravity of what I’m saying, this is why I goggled what racism means and if you analyze closely, you’ll notice how much similar the definition is to tribalism. In Africa, especially Nigeria, many ethnic groups are just not at peace with each other and we have a whole lot of ethnic groups. As much as there’s unity in diversity, there’s also so much diversity in diversity amongst us. Take the Yorubas for example;most of them feel that because they are a majority ethnic group in Nigeria, they are superior. How do I know this? Well I school there, all the way from the south and honestly I didn’t usually  acknowledge the fact that it was a thing until it was and I actually experienced it. Also, my people literally cannot stand the Igbo’s, it’s this unspoken rule that an Igbo person should not so much as try to get married to a person from my ethnic group. This right here is subtle racism but God so help you if you try to point that out that you don’t get eaten alive.

It’s funny how we can say black lives matter but not recognize that even amongst black people, there’s racism which we’d rather ignore and hide under the cover. Recently, my close friend who stays abroad got in contact with me, as we spoke, we kind of diverted towards racism and then she goes all “blacks are actually racists too you know!” you see when you here knowledge is power please don’t take that saying for granted. Ignorance is not bliss. My ignorant brain just automatically kick started and begun to defend the blacks, obviously, brothers and sisters in solidarity, like Beyonce preaches (*laughs stupidly) and then she stops me. Turns out that blacks can be racists too but it’ll be called tribalism. She tells me of the pool story, how she and her friends go to the pool (she’s the only Nigerian among them so she’s clearly the one being referred to) and just as she’s about to hop in, a black girl stops her and says, ‘you can’t go in the pool, what do you think? you ain’t black like us and we don’t need you contaminating the pool’ lol. The audacity! My friend now tells me she did nothing and she actually turned around and left the pool. Now I’m angry on her behalf. But she tells me it’ll only prove a point that blacks are right about Nigerians, they call us savages.
Note: this is something I heard only in Pocahontas years ago, turns out people still say it.

Now, if you’re like me you’d think that in the grand scheme of things, blacks can’t be racist to blacks. Lies lies lies lies! Nigerians are blacks please and it took me too long to figure this out but  Nigerians practice racism but call it tribalism. It’s sad because we’re supposed to be rooting for each other, we’re supposed to be ones, so called unified in diversity. This ethnic differentiation is racism in another form. We discriminate because she’s not Yoruba or he’s not Hausa or he’s not Igbo and we fail to see past these persons ethnicity to fully appreciate the human being that person is without the tag of an ethnic group. We just expect less and less of the person because he’s not from your ethnicity. Many times I’ve heard this stupid unnecessary saying that people from my ethnic group are lazy and unsuccessful. Well, it’s stupid. These kinds of things just further prove my point. In my second year, this lecturer for this particular course was just always trying to pull me down. Every other person in the class would literally do the same things but not get scolded or called names but then when faith does it, it’s a problem so he’d say mean things or threaten to send me out. Mind you, everyone in this class room or more practically 95 percent of the people in this classroom were all Yorubas. It was obvious he treated me this way not because I was not smart but because I came from a different ethnic group. God even a few of my classmates noticed how different I was being treated and cane to ask me if I offended the man at some point. One day, I was in his office asking him about my result, there was a mistake and he’s the person in charge but then he started yelling at me saying all these mean things and telling me things like he’ll “show me”… Absolutely stupid. Then he says “people like you always like to disturb all the time” whoa! For all I care, he was indirectly referring to where I’m from because the whole time he was being obvious that he disliked me. He knew I’m not Yoruba because when he started lecturing us, we made all these introductions.

Tribal stereotyping isn’t funny when you’re at the burnt of it. A lot of people just don’t realize that they are practicing tribalism when they say “oh, let me hide my purse oo, my maid is Akwa Ibom and those people steal a lot” it’s unfair to people that instead of uplifting others, we pull them down because they are not from the same place as you are. It’s unfair that the only person you’d help is that person that is from your same ethnic group. It’s not only unfair but also not right when you say “ohh he’s my brother, we’re from the same village” but that your friend who’s had your back from day one, that is also from a different place is not your brother. This is you being tribalistic. This is racism so far I’m concerned. Now, in the definition of racism, there’s a part that says prejudice based on ethnic group, isn’t this tribalism? It’s sad to say this but majority of the deaths in Nigeria is because of ethnic wars. Ethnic groups fight over who is superior and in the end, kill a thousand people to prove this measly point that should not actually be an thing and in actuality doesn’t make sense at all. My heart bleeds for those who have lost lives because of this wars. It’s sad that human value is rated in Nigeria based on ethnicity. That the worth of life is unimportant when put side by does with ethnicity. If only we’d pause and see that this diversification because of ethnicity is useless and actually accept that black lives matter every where, that we should be unified even with our diversity, that we are all brothers and sisters notwithstanding where we’re from. Standing as a nation, together and not diversified is the way change can happen. So in that small group of ours, let’s make it known that no matter where any of our friends are from, we’re all still brothers and sisters. Black will always be fought against so let’s not make a thing out of something that is so minor like tribe or ethnicity because the biggest fight of our lives is the fight against our skin color. So while we say Black lives matter we should remember that all black lives matter and I mean all matter. So please stop and show love, stop fighting or discriminating against each other because of ethnicity. All lives matter actually so stop tribalism and just love. See past the diverse ethnic group and see the thing that we all have in common, which is being human.

PS: I just want to say thank you soooooooooooo soooooooooooo soooooooooooo much to my audience. I really appreciate how far we’ve come and I’m also so grateful for the reception I got on my last blog post. It’s so encouraging to know that I have such beautiful supporters so this is me saying a big thank you! I hope you like this one as much as you loved the last one. With that being said, drum roll please, I’d like to inform you guys that the refurbishing of my blog site has been completed so expect more of me from now on. Enjoy! And please don’t forget to like, share and comment and follow! I love you guys! God bless you.

The Blame Game

RAPE IS CRUEL! RAPE IS SIN! END THE RAPE NOW!

Slut!
Shhh don’t call me that!
Whore!
He’s snapping, pulling, grazing,
Trespassing upon territories he’s not supposed to
Tears, pain, pressure!
All at once, all these feelings
Curling up into a ball in my stomach.
Don’t wear that!
Smile more!
Don’t walk too tall!
Don’t talk too much!
Arrrghhh!
It’s a black hole and they’re all pulling me in with them
Don’t be too successful woman!
Cook, clean, serve!
I’m swirling, swimming!
Lost!
Why are they telling me to do these things that I don’t want to?
But when they asked at the table who I was, entitled patriachial guerillas made a face and said it wasn’t necessary.
Because I wasn’t worth it!
Funny how they still used me as a souvenir while they sat and laughed.
Leering at the qualities and components that define me,
Deciding later that I am not worth It!
Today I’m running when I’m not supposed to, crying when I’m not supposed to, hurting when I shouldn’t be and ashamed when I don’t warrant it.
They rape me, hate me and still somehow blame me for the abuse to my person.
What were you wearing that day?
How were you walking?
What time were you out!
The nerve of them!
They decide that getting raped and ravished is my choice.
Because the female carries the cross of gunmen who are thirsty and hungry for pain.
Amusing how I didn’t know that today I would be under the knife of those who think I’m a property and not a person.
Sad how they’ll use that God awful phrase
“boys will be boys” to cover such injustice!
The so called gods among us, try working to inflict, destroy and erase a person who is equally human.
So no!
No to the ones prancing around, shoving these rules down our throats and telling us who to be for these guerillas
No to those who remain in the dark thinking they can save us from men who want to devour us by making unreasonable rules.
And a big no to those who say women are properties to be sold,
Toys to be used,
Souvenirs to be served.
Women are not your properties!
Say no to rape and violence against women!
We are humans just like you too.
   
                    ©Faith_the_scrivener

It’s exceptionally sad that rape has now become a culture. Lately, I’ve seen a lot of rape stories all over the internet. What’s more ridiculous is the fact that when this grave injustice has happens, most people think its right to blame the girls, they ask ridiculous questions that don’t matter and somehow make it seem like the fault of the girl. This has become absurd, now guys think its okay to brutally commit such act because community will find away to say it’s the fault of the girl. This piece is a cry for help, it’s a cry that such acts should be stopped. Say no to rape.

I wish we had time

I wish our only sin was forgetting to pray
But now that we have tasted esctacy,
That water is now vodka
And movies are no longer innocent,
Our sins are multiplied, tattooed to are skins like permanent ink.

Unfortunately our sins are no longer lack of prayer, but are many,
written down and etched to our subconscious reminding us that we grew up,
Reminding us that the taste of ecstasy and the freedom we craved would soon be the end of us.

Sadly we cannot erase these malfunctioning and although we wish we could take back time, our shortcomings will meet at the crossroads of future and past.
They shall coexist on their different terms but same meanings.
The days shall slow and we shall wish that life was long enough to stop us from racing pride.

The fall will be hard, we will wonder why time didn’t wait for us instead it led us through a maze of lies, deceit and inconsistency.
Now we want to inhale time and make it our Oxygen but our reprobate minds have stuck and so did our future life
Because our only sin now is forgetting to do everything.
            
                                          ©Markson Faith

SOUNDS OF SILENCE

I feel the tension growing inside of me,
It’s stem making root,
It’s steam blowing hot-cold,
It’s reins pulling me by my throat,
It’s claws digging deep into my inner soul.

What is growing is a minx of fear and pure grief,
but it transforms me to new beginnings that are unforeseen,
sometimes it sprouts grains of relief and stunted pleasure,
Sometimes it is the crust from the cake that sits on the table untouched.

How can salt and sugar taste like heaven?
I was told it was supposed to burn my tongue and make incisions in my inner mind.

Nothing has been straight forward
Perhaps making snow into ice has always been a fantasy,
Maybe it was supposed to be sand on my skin.

So rewinding time now seems explicit and realistic, perhaps I am equally dreaming?
My reality has been a mix of salt and sugar,
Butter on jam, and milk with honey.

Drown out the silence, let it’s piercing quiet feel my ears and evaporate to oxygen.
Because while I stare out the window, I hear the noise leave through the door.
Indeed the sounds of silence are dwelling within me with every beat of my heart when skips.
   
                               ©Markson Faith™

This piece is dedicated to all those who feel pressured about life. Who struggle to be something but end up being caught up with the silence of the future. I’m with you and so is the Lord. I hope it encourages you.

BEAUTY BLUES

Her beauty smote the eyes if her beholders
It drew them near, calling them in.
They had expected tranquility and blossoming,
Stereotyped and generalized
But as they drew near, she reeked!
She reeked of indecency, the stench of unused precepts filled their nose,
Their eyes watered from the unpleasantness of her sound,
and they cried mourning her dead potential

The stench made them gnash their teeth at her beauty and to them, she no longer shone
Like dead flowers they stomped their feet at her, eyes shining bright with ridicule.
But to her she couldn’t see anything wrong with her.

Because the beauty that mattered to her was only physical, she moved away to please another crowd of spectators, but it was sad that all she could offer was drenched glory that couldn’t swim past the cacophony of swarming bees.
                
                                   ©Markson Faith Essien

The Aphrodite Experience: A Thing of Love

In all my years of living, I have read a whole lot of books centering on love, studied a whole lot of authors who portray love as the most beautiful thing in the entire world. From Jane Austen to William Shakespeare to Emily Bronte, love to them is one magnificent, beautiful and fulfilling thing. They all make it feel like to love is to be achieved, like it’s a life goal but what they didn’t tell us was that love is tough, love is toxic, love is consuming and love hurts you in ways you couldn’t have imagined possible. Yes, I’m talking about the same love William Shakespeare writes about describing it as a summers wind on a cool winter’s day or what Jane Austen describes as a general incivility which is the essence of love. However, before I venture into the basis of this work and the point I am trying to establish, I want you to understand that I have nothing against love, absolutely nothing! As a matter of fact, I’m obsessed with love, I admire love and I aspire to be loved but sadly, since our many prominent figures who proved to be well versed in the art of love did not tell us the many packages of love and the not so beautiful parts of love, I have to be that person who actually breaks it to you, not to discourage you from love but to help you understand that it is not a bed of roses.
In life, we all want to be loved by someone else, we want to be cherished, pampered with gifts of affection and cared about. We want to feel love that resonates to the very deep part of our cores, love that brings out the beauty in us, love that heals our heart and make us feel light headed but have we ever thought of the very basis of love. I’d like to believe we all have and on a scale of one to ten, nine out of ten of our answers will be trust. Without disputing the fact that trust is indeed one of the basis of love, I would like us to view thus from a different angle shall we. When I was quite young, I remember that I asked my aunt how she knew she loved her husband and like the very typical answer that an African woman of that day and age could give, she indignantly replied me saying, my heart knew. Funny right, yes, I found it funny too because as young as I was, I had done a little bit of research and I had figured that since she was older, her answer would rhyme with the answers I got from the internet. Sadly, it didn’t rhyme. Her answer in fact confused me even more and as inquisitive I was, I went ahead to ask a teacher at my school what love is and I would never forget the reply because till this very moment, I thought his answer was the best definition of love. He told me “love is that feeling that makes you feel like you’re the happiest person on earth” and as expected, I absolutely loved that answer because it sounded so pleasing. However, the next words he said made me frown for the rest of the day. “Love is the absolute worse, because as much as it makes you happy, it can break you till you have no soul left to give.” That’s what he said and to tell you the truth, I nearly cried because at that young age I was fascinated by the love the romantic novels I read fed with me so hearing him tell me those words made me want to hate love. I left that day, but for weeks I thought and thought of his answer. I then decided that he didn’t know what he was talking about so as a proof to him, I browsed Jane Austen where I found a quote on love and took it to school. It read “there could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar and no feelings so in unison” and when I showed him this excerpt, he all but smiled like he had expected this to happen. He asked me to sit down and that’s where he made me understand that love is the best and the worst. It can make you happy but it can also make you a wreck. In the end it all depends on you to decide if it’s a kind of love that brings out the best in you or if it’s the kind that is bound to take away your personality.
My own definition of love is love and I’m pretty sure that it has confused you all but as a matter of fact love is to love in the sense that to be able to love or reciprocate love, you have to love yourself and I don’t mean careless love or admiration. I, mean the bone crushing love that you give to yourself, that love that when you look into the mirror, you see the best parts of yourself and the flawed parts and you love them the same. Truthfully, the basis of love starts from within yourself, it is the kind of love you give to yourself no matter how flawed you believe yourself to be. It is the patience you give to yourself when you think you have messed up or when something you’ve done is going completely wrong. It is the admiration you give to yourself even with your slim figure or chubby figure or what so ever. It is the forgiveness you show to yourself when you are wrong. It is the kindness you show yourself when you know you deserve such act. It is the self-care you shower yourself with whether you know how to or not and now this is love. It is love in all your insecurities, love that is beautiful yet excruciating at the same time, love that accepts both the good and the bad and it is love that brings out your true inner beauty. Until you have attained such a level of love towards yourself, only then can we be loved the way we wish and the way you know you ought to be loved and trust me it is only then that you will be able to reciprocate the love given to you because when you love yourself enough, you will understand the weight of the love showered on you by someone else. And indeed this is the most essential basis of love. so please, start now, love yourself enough because you can, love yourself because God loves you as much and love yourself because it is the greatest gift you can give yourself and by doing this you allow yourself to fall in love with the best love possible.
Finally, I want us to understand that to love is selfless, and in being selfless you have to compromise sometimes because selflessness is seeing another happy and being happy for them even it breaks you. Love will hurt you in ways possible but that doesn’t mean you have to stop loving why? Let’s look at it this way. When you disappoint yourself, it doesn’t mean you will stop loving yourself. It means that momentarily you’re not proud of what you’ve done but you know you can do better so you will. That is how love is. Because the person who loves you disappoints you doesn’t mean you get to not love or stop loving, it simply means that you endure and over look and forgive. That is love in its best version, selfless love or rather selflessness. Love is beautiful but it can also change you and burn you and consume you but you will always love or feel love because that is how much you love yourself so today, love yourself, decide to love yourself despite all and see how much your life will change. Happy Valentine’s Day!

“In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him” -1John 4:9

Writing With the world!

I just love seeing a community of writers. That feeling of being surrounded by people who can transform this entire world into beautiful words is very precious. That we write is an expression of true thought.That we write is not because we feel bored but because we believe that when you read you are free to meditate on what you’ve read, that those words you read will reform your thoughts and feelings making you see a little of the writers heart by just reading them… Writing is life treating you with something people wouldn’t speak, it’s a language other than English that speaks volumes to humanity. Writing can change you and change your life… So why not write? I write because I can communicate with my audience, I write because I can process my own feelings, I write because I express myself best using a classic combination of words, I write because it takes me to an entirely different universe and indeed I write because I love…so why not.

-Markson Faith

Dedicated to all writers who are brave enough to feel the world and express themselves… Kudos guys! ❤

Vote of confidence!

I will walk with my head held high
I will stand in the skies
I will confidently speak my truth
I assure you, I will steadfastly chase my dreams
Whether or not you point fingers
I will smile like the sun…
and giggle by the waves wearing shorts and a tank top
Whether or not you call me vain
Or you smite me with profane judgements!
I will stare at the moon and ask that you change your inhumane ways
And I will fight with all of my might
As bitter as you may be,
I assure you I will win my freedom and wear it on my head like a crown..!
Whether or not it makes you unhappy that I stand up for something that is mine, I will do it anyway!
Because you have said I am the reincarnation of Medusa…
So I will pierce your skin and prick your fingers with my new found glory
and I will honour my people
we will hold our hands round the bonfire of freedom and wrap ourselves with our new found prowess.

-Markson Faith

I wrote this as a vote of confidence to all women, I know we can fight against the injustice that is violence which has followed us like a fowl odour. I want this to serve as an awareness and awakening call to all. STOP VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN!