The Identity Chase

This may pass across as a long read, but do read. Every line is worth it. I promise. This post is one I personally like.

This post is dedicated to God, the source of Inspiration.

Enjoy.

Source: Google

Help me

All I can hear is the echo of my voice…
I can’t breathe! Help me!
But the silence just gets worse
The darkness gets thicker
I try to claw my way out of the darkness
It only suffocates me
The last thing I remember is a heavy slap on my face and then I recede into nothingness…
I wake up to find a man beside me
“Hello stranger, he pipes, what are you doing here?”
My spirits soar
At last some help!
I’m looking for something, I sputter in excitement; can u help me find it, I ask?
Oh I know just the thing, he says
Money! He screams
Money answers everything!
I look at him, my emotions in a jumble
Are you sure? I ask
Oh yes, he says, money is the way forward!
I was confused about how money could help me
He didn’t even ask me what I was looking for.
I wanted an answer so badly I just followed him.


No!!!
Don’t bring me back here!!!
Please! I’ll do anything to be away from here!!!
Help me!
I have all the resources to satisfy your whims!
Please take me away from here! Please!
But my pleas fall on deaf ears and the door clangs shut very loudly
Disillusioned I fall into a heap
Unaware of when sleep comes to claim me…

Darling!!!
Wake up!!
What! Wh.. Who… Me?
When did I get married?
I open my eyes to the very picture of Aphrodite all my senses became alert instantly!
If this wasn’t heaven nothing else was!
Are we married? I ask
My eyes heavily lidded in lust
Oh no dear she answers sultrily
But we will be soon
I close my eyes in pleasure
Nothing beats this! nothing!
As she leaves, leaving me languishing on the bed I begin to relive our pleasure filled moments
Grrrr! My phone rings very loudly
Jolting me rudely from my reverie
Hello! I bellow in anger
Within a second my anger vanished. Even sweeter than the former was the voice over the phone
“I have perfumed my bed and I have your favourites on. My chauffeur will pick you up...”
Hardly had she finished speaking when a loud knock vibrates on my door
I dress up hurriedly to my destruction…
Ah! This is the life!
Life cannot get better!
Trapezing from girl to girl!
And none of them not having an inkling of what’s going on!
Ah I rub my hands in pleasure…
I love my life!

If you touch me!
Do you know who I am!
I will slap you!
The last thing I remember is a kick to my shin and exploding pain before the darkness envelopes me once again…

“Ade!”
“I’m talking to you!”
With rapidly blinking eyes I am jolted back to the present
“This is it, man”
“If you try this thing, no more worries for you man, this is the key to respect, man”
“Just take a sniff”
I don’t know about this, I stutter
“Don’t you trust me?”
With great trepidation I sniff a little
The feeling was indescribable
Nothing beats this
I must have all of this
I say in excitement
And I had all of it
I want more
I still want more
I must have more…
I swear I could smell it
I bring my nose closer to take a sniff
I open my eyes to relish the scene
And all I see is darkness…
…..
“Dance this dance!”
But I’m tired
“You must continue o!”
But I’m tired!
“If you don’t dance no one will accept you…”
With aching limbs I continue to dance…
I am dancing but my steps are not quick enough
Very loudly, whips land on my back
Ah! Have mercy! I cry
“Don’t you want to be accepted? Don’t you want to be part of us?”
I do not answer
I continue to dance
The dance of recognition
The dance to be accepted
This time I know exactly when I lose consciousness
And for the first time I appreciate the darkness…

What we are about to offer you is unparalleled
We hear of this darkness that consumes you
And we beat our chests to tell you that the end has come to the darkness!
Our only condition is that you agree…
This must be right I think
It has to be
It must work
It just has too…
The horrors of that time are indescribable
The evil lurking in the within is boundless
I do not wait to be thrown into the darkness this time
I walk into it with joy and pleasure…

My search is fruitless
I have searched and searched and my soul is weary with pain
This gaping hole deep where I cannot touch is sickening
I cry but I cannot cry out
I weep but my lips do not move
This darkness is nauseating…
Perhaps ending it all is the answer
I make haste to end it all…
Suddenly a bright light envelopes me
What is this I ask? Who are you? Who am I?
“You are who I say you are” a voice from nowhere answers
A voice unearthly
So sweet the darkness recedes at its echo

The voice of God.

@Its_Kash thinking on www(dot)obafuntay(dot)com

**********************************************************************************************************************

Many of us face this every day, in different ways going through life in search of, who we truly are, chasing after an identity to call ours.

In this pursuit for Identity, to know who we are, we’ve succumbed to peer-pressure, seemingly ‘lived the life’, trying to fill up the void within, in anyway we can, we’ve made bad decisions, terrible resolutions, and eventually, have lost ourselves… Who we truly are? What we were made to do? Our purpose. Our Identity.

When you feel defeated, worthless and think you can’t amount to anything good? That’s the devil talking, lying, that’s his job and he has been defeated. Ending it all is never the answer. It’s time to listen to that sweet voice, the voice of God.

You are who I say you are – God

But then, this is what I think, what do I know?

The Female Child. by @Anubabyy

paintings-2
Her parents knew she was meant for great things.
As a child the birds were drawn to her
Leaves grew greener on paths which she walked.
The air always seemed fresher where ever she stepped
And her smile… Oh yes! her smile made flowers blossom.

As a teenager she made fresh water rush
The flowers bloomed around her
The butterflies fluttered
She was springs queen.

In Autumn she would watch the leaves fall with tears in her eyes…
She would whisper words as she said goodbye
It confused her parents, but still they believed she had a kind heart.

She became a woman
The most kind hearted and free spirited woman ever
She would dance with the wind and sway her hips

The gods came down and told her they had waited for her to grow and become a woman,
they had long awaited for her arrival,
The day she was given birth to beautiful snow fell
The softest snow that was ever felt.
They told her she was mother nature
A queen of seasons who would birth a child of hope.

Anuoluwapo Kalejaiye.
@Anubabyy

@nzurixnzuri’s letter

Welcome to the second project on obafuntaydotcom, The Letter to my unborn child project. If you missed the preview, you can view it here, just so you have an idea what we are up to, as much as the project title, speaks for itself.

Ever thought of writing a letter? Better still, a letter to your unborn child?

What would you name him/her? Why not give your unborn child a name now and write him/her a letter? Yes! Right now! Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.

What do you think?

Today, we’d be reading Bunmi’s letter.

Hang in there.

Victoria's Letter

Bunmi’s Letter

Dear daughter,

For a little girl with eyes wide shut and arms wide open as these words inundate her very being.

Like arrows in the hand of a mighty man, this little girl is mine
This little girl is a part of me

Smiling in your sleep,I wonder what makes you smile so
Is my little angel dreaming?
Is she dreaming of happy places and thinking happy thoughts?

Your eyes flutter open
And you smile at me
Your smile warms my heart like thermal socks on an English winter night
And I tell you this feeling right here is a genesis older than the big bang

Looking into your eyes, I smile back
Lighting up like a thousand fireflies,
Your beautiful brown eyes are as pure as the driven snow
Eyes filled with all the innocence and curiosity that comes with being a new-born
I see that curiosity in your eyes,
Like Dora my little angel is eager to take on the world
This meretricious world you’re so eager to explore is evil and cold

Darling daughter you are not grey, yellow or beige
Your skin is the color of your father’s joy and your mother’s love
Despite what society and television tell you, hard work, sincerity and honesty are more important than the price of your handbag or red-soled shoes.

When you are up to your knees in disappointment
When, planning your crucifixion,
Life pins you from side
When you’re overwhelmed
Baby,you don’t have to bear it all on own
I have no red cape but baby girl I’d be your Supermom
I’d always have comfort food for those days when the glitter fades,
And you feel torn and dejected.
We’d eat popcorn and chocolates
Watch reruns of Friends
And most importantly take it to the Lord in prayer

Do not fret darling child
Like the sand welcomes the ocean,
He’s always there to receive you in his arms.
When you feel you’re not good enough Remember God made you good enough.
Don’t you dare forget, you are the strongest creature to exist, you’re His masterpiece
You have the light to fight the darkness
Don’t you dare forget!
He made you beautiful!
He made you unique!

Dear daughter,
Have big dreams
Invest in your mind
Read far and wide,
For indeed,
The secrets to this world
Are found,
Where pen and paper confluence
Be grateful for everything you have
And everyone you meet.
Like Barak on that cold January morning As he made history,
Dear daughter stand tall and proud. Fashion your arms like airplanes
And say to yourself…

“I AM PRICELESS”!

• • •

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

N.B. The project continues on monday, with @ObaFuntAy’s letter.

You can send in your own written letters to obafuntay@gmail.com

You can subscribe to the blog (at the right column to follow the project, if you are viewing with your mobile, just scroll to the end of this page to subscribe)

Today’s #TBT pictures were sent in by @_bimbee_

and @Bk_Freak

"The prize-winning image: A vulture watches a starving child in southern Sudan, March 1, 1993. Carter’s winning photo shows a heart-breaking scene of a starving child collapsed on the ground, struggling to get to a food center during a famine in the Sudan in 1993. In the background, a vulture stalks the emaciated child. Carter was part of a group of four fearless photojournalists known as the “Bang Bang Club” who traveled throughout South Africa capturing the atrocities committed during apartheid. Haunted by the horrific images from Sudan, Carter committed suicide in 1994 soon after receiving the award.”

“The prize-winning image: A vulture watches a starving child in southern Sudan, March 1, 1993.
Carter’s winning photo shows a heart-breaking scene of a starving child collapsed on the ground, struggling to get to a food center during a famine in the Sudan in 1993. In the background, a vulture stalks the emaciated child.
Carter was part of a group of four fearless photojournalists known as the “Bang Bang Club” who traveled throughout South Africa capturing the atrocities committed during apartheid.
Haunted by the horrific images from Sudan, Carter committed suicide in 1994 soon after receiving the award.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

An African Child's definition of being Coloured.

An African Child’s definition of being Coloured.

If you have a picture you’d love to share with a brief caption/description, please send to obafuntay@gmail.com

@Scarville’s Letter

Welcome to the second project on obafuntaydotcom, The Letter to my unborn child project. If you missed the preview, you can view it here, just so you have an idea what we are up to, as much as the project title, speaks for itself.

Ever thought of writing a letter? Better still, a letter to your unborn child?

What would you name him/her? Why not give your unborn child a name now and write him/her a letter? Yes! Right now! Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.

What do you think?

Today, we’d be reading Jenim’s letter.

Hang in there.

Jenim's Letter

Jenim’s Letter

My child, my child
Welcome to a world I was welcomed to
What seems not so far long ago
When the air was not eerie
And life was placid and not so scary
Of course I lie, what is now is what has been
All you see, the sun hath seen
The air is tense and always dense
And life is acid, it makes no sense
But I know of one I met while I yet lived
And came to know and came to grow
To love forevermore
One from whom emerged branches
Branches loved differently by different souls
And has his roots deep in the human spirit
One inspired by the muses or of God himself
One that had the power to make a grown man weep
(I’m a woman, I wept a fountain)
And a new-born dance
One filled with words which are as shallow as a stream
Or as deep as the Pacific on a rainy night
One whose end calls for an encore
I met him as a child and it indeed was love at sight
For the rest of my days I sought for depth
In him was character no one could touch
Loved by all yet none could touch
He speaks aloud with lots of words
Silently moulding the lives of them which heard
I can only try and fail to explain to you
The joy that fills my heart when I listen to a song I love
Or when I fall in love with a song for the first time
The urge I feel to see the song again and again and only again
His words or his rhythm
Music is my only love
If one could plant a grin upon my face
Or put a grey upon my days
Or weave pain through my heart
It was music, it was music on any day
I watched in adoration as a hundred thousand people
Sang while the musician stopped singing and watched them sing his song
He laughs in joy for the song he wrote had changed lives
I smiled at the hope that music transferred to those in pain
I wondered at the most powerful creation
That had such an impact on the soul of man
How a frog needed not the eloquent voice of music
To have a song in his heart
The power it has over the feet of men
Oh, to sway and lift mortals off the ground
To neutralize the acidity of life
One that could make you high on a bridge
And depresses you at the refrain
Which modulates your emotions as the waves of the ocean
Mouths that can’t talk explain with music
Hearts that can’t beat say so in songs
In all you do, never disparage the branch a man loves
Love yours and always carry a song in your heart
Go for his lyrics, they’ll increase your depth
The rhythm is important, more so for the shallow
Guard your heart, music has his yin
Yes his darkness, which darkens the hearts of men
What more can I say of that I love
More than the air I breathe
The string instruments will melt a heart of stone
If you meet a boy that plays the violin, marry him
Oh, I kid, take me not seriously on that last line
But do marry him by all means necessary
The acoustic guitar, the piano I love too
The drums that beat the beating heart
The harp, the flute, the sax, the mute
Doth play, music hath no inhibition
I’ve loved a few, a few have loved back
But when the wind it blew, it blew both loves away
And memories are all that’s left
Music was with me before I loved
And picked my heart from the floor
And with the hand of time healed it more
The secret chord that David played
That pleased God and king him made
On the wings of music I talk to God
As Moses did, face to face, heart to heart
The children’s flaw hath made them bound
Their captors required of them a song
God’s own children could not sing his song in a strange land
What indeed is in a song
That frees the slave with amazing grace
On days of angst, music reminds me I’m not alone
What’s a song but a heart that’s dancing through the mouth
And when the mouth be dumb
The heart it dances through the feet
And when the feet be numb
The heart it dances through the ears
And when the hearing’s gone
And it seems that sound can no more be born
And music can no more be heard
And he who hears not wishes he were dead
God creates a man to show the world
What music seems and what music means
He named him Ludwig Van Beethoven
He who once heard but one day heard no more
And when this acid of life was poured upon his face
He wished to see his days end before his day
But when hope hath walked to him
And shook his hand and sat with him
He composed his Ninth Symphony
With his heart’s melody
And when the performance was done
He with his back to the crowd
Heard not the thundering applause of the audience
That gave him reverence
Till he was turned, and began to weep
And he which heard not changed the century in which he lived
Music is faith, that tells you light up, even if you cannot hear my voice I’ll be right beside you dear
Music is hope, that tells you if everything we got is fading away, we’ve a rock in a Rock till our dying day
Music is a voice, when he declares: questions of science, science and progress do not speak as loud as my heart
Music is a friend, especially to the lonely, he says I’m holding onto you holding on to me, maybe its all we’ve got but its all I need
Music is spiritual, that transcendental breeze between mortality and deity
Music is healing, he whispers, tears stream down your face when you lose something you cannot replace but I will try to fix you
Music is sublime, as water is to the body so is music to the soul
Music is peace, it lays the soul at war upon lake placid to take a nap
Above all, my child, music is life alive
Before you took your first breath it was
After you take your last it’ll be
But do not dare take that deep, sorrowful last breath my child
Without letting the world hear your song by the life you’ve lived.

• • •

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

N.B. The project goes on tomorrow, with Aw3L3’s letter.

You can send in your own written letters to obafuntay@gmail.com

You can subscribe to the blog (at the right column to follow the project, if you are viewing with your mobile, just scroll to the end of this page to subscribe)

To the Deaf and Dumb

So this poem was sent in my a fellow @SmileCare member who attended the Wesley school for the hearing impaired outreach.

Enjoy

Source: Google

I wish it was no concern of mine,
But yet I wish that you would try
To teach the hand the tongue’s strange art
To tell the stories of the heart.

For you have never heard a sound,
Have never uttered a word with the tongue
The music of your looks, nor found
A voice their sweetness to prolong.
I’ve seen what you too could see,
The calm,  The motion and the breeze
Of  various elements combined  but yet free,
to satisfy the cravings of our eyes

I’ve seen what you have seen, the sky
As pure as innocence could make it,
As blue and bright as beauty’s eye,
With not a tearful wink to shake it.
Ask not for words in such an hour,
nor the ear’s listening power.

Sense is not competent to tell
The striving of the bound soul;
Thoughts high as heaven and deep as hell,
Will awfully around it roll;
And words are violations that dare
Its fearful workings to declare

@Baby_Shamzy thinking on obafuntay(dot)com

My Silent Cry

Redrawn by Rekia

In a place I shouldn’t be,
How did I get here? What happened to me?
Once upon a time, I used to go on my knees,
Dot my I’s and cross my T’s

I didn’t only look back, to Sodom I went,
The familiar felt safer, the past I held on to,
My knees clean, my hands dirty,
A furnished wardrobe filled with dirty apparel.

In pursuit of happiness,
In this wilderness,
It’s all but fleeting happiness,
Let me sleep… allow me to be.

Priorities have taken a walk,
What I look on the outside matters more that what’s on the inside,
I spend on what I ought not rather than invest in what I should,
My mind in pandemonium, deep has become shallow.

Wake me not, the dawn, let it tarry,
This weight I can no longer carry,
Like the one in Notre Dame, I have a hunch back,
When the light is off, and it’s all dark…

I stop to think, ponder, wonder… how do I fix this? Get it right?

You see, at this point, I don’t know what to do,
I’m not ending this post with a “I choose to do this or that”
‘Cause frankly, this time, I don’t know what to think, talk more of do.
Along the line, in this maze, I got lost.

This is my scream for help… for now, my mask I put back on

But there you have it, my silent cry.