Stuck in a world of uncertainty and bleakness. I'm forced to 'be a man' and keep a straight face while deep within I wanna own a tear factory. I'm alone.
I'm heavy.
My heart is heavy, filled with expressions not designed to be aired. The words deep within don't see a future lest I see what's left of me tied to the stakes. I'd rather die than allow the society kill me twice. My insecurities are insecure. I'm insane.
For how long will I keep saying "I'm fine"? No one looks into my eyes for the truth. Everyone is satisfied with my verbal response and run off to attend to their businesses. They are so caring!
How do I explain without words that I'm not really fine. How long will I live a lie? How long will I play this shadow role?
I'm a pretender, liar and attention seeker. I'm really good at it. Who really cares?
I look weird and express all toxic behaviours. I'll soon die and fade away because, truly, this space isn't designed for shadows.
Who will help me? Who will hold my hand and set me free? Are there humans out there who care?
I look out of the window again to see men running helter skelter. I'm an extra luggage. I won't survive. I run back into my room and shut the door.
Who wanna hear me talk about my pains, feelings and emotions?
Do I have any value to the society? No I don't see a vacancy anywhere.
I've many questions. I've questions for God too.
The question yearns for answers and with this daily tug, I'm assured of my sanity. I don't know how much time I've to make the sad switch.
I'm sitting on this chair with my shirt tucked in. I'm smiling and waving at passers-by hoping the answers to my questions are being compiled.
Society won't forsake its own.
God won't forsake his son.
It's night and I hope I don't wake up into dawn this way.
*Our Boys are asking*
Dear Boy, stand strong and remain diligent. There is light at the end of the tunnel and you will win if you persevere.
Written by
Ebuka Obika and Ebuka Umeh