Yes, I know, right! The title sounds like something from the pages of my Primary School English notebook… Well, it popped up on my Twitter timeline while I was trying about to start ranting about the day not going as planned. I’m one of those that travel to get to Church every Sunday. This Sunday I actually planned to be in Church, it was Father’s day, there sure will be some celebrating in Church and some fun too, not to mention the stuffs I had to do… “Crap!” I swore times over, commanding the rain to stop in the same breath. I had woken up early, did some little chores and while I got myself ready for service, the rain started full force. So, I decided to do a full face painting ;-)
and even took time to take pictures of my creations, but by the time I was done, the rain wasn’t ready to give. I took some cereals (yeah, I’m a breakfast person) and went to sleep tweeting at friends and family.
Slept off like someone had hit me in the head, maybe something did though… yes, something did, the events of June 3rd did hit me in the head, it sent shivers through my body over and over again these past few days, leaving such a cold in my heart that sometimes threatens to freeze up my whole body. Anyway, I got up having slept about an hour or two, did a little touch-up of my painting and off I went, dressed in a sassy grey black stripped gown, blocking the colours up with a red foulard for the cold (I know what you’re thinking, the foulard actually matches a tiny tag at the helm of the gown ;-)) It was a warm day, almost hot even after the rain, but the cold I felt was not from the outside; it’s a result of my freezing heart… No, I didn’t cry; at least not yet… I was too hard for that. I could rant, even that doesn’t come often these days. I didn’t know what I was going out there you do, or maybe I did. Yes, I was going there to get relief from this pain in my heart; some succour from being with other people that feel the same pain or maybe more.
I won’t pretend my pain is as much as that of those who lost more than one friends or those whose family members had gone. No, I dare not… but neither can I deny that I don’t feel pain, or that anger doesn’t burn me up on the inside as fiery as hell itself… But this afternoon I was cold, and my woollen foulard couldn’t hold me. Usually I would sweat real hard with this scarf around me, but its warmth just won’t do today. It just wasn’t enough. Why was I headed where I was headed? You’d ask. I wanted to lay it all to rest, but like Lydia Sobogun I wasn’t ready to let go. I wanted to punish someone for the way I felt; I wanted them avenged… the thought of that still didn’t comfort me, yes I know I’m supposed to be past this, but maybe I chose to linger a little longer. So I spent the afternoon/evening fighting tears; a continuous series of fights, most of which I won and also lost quite a few. Can’t say I heard much of what was said at the Candle light Memorial service tagged #WeMustNotForget… but Donna did get my attention, so did Jumoke, I’m a sucker for poetry you see… Mandy did bless me too; with the songs, but I was most touched by her strength. Maybe because we knew someone in common: Amaka Ojugbana nee Awani.
You see, I had come sad, bitter even. Evening of the incident, I threatened to rain curses on everyone who allowed corruption hinder them from doing their job, thereby causing the death of these ones. I probably even did (would need some mind checking to be sure I didn't.) Then I wasn’t even aware of my loss. The knowledge of it on Monday morning finally silenced me; taking away the fight in me, but leaving behind a sad and vengeful spirit. This spirit willed me to wish upon whoever was guilty of the mishap every calamity possible to man, unthinkable things that even my mind wouldn’t think up no matter how hard I tried. When I couldn’t find succour even in their misfortune, I looked forward to this day; to this candle light service (my first ever.) I had said to myself: “it’ll all end then! Yes I will soon lay it all down. Yes, I will!” When the time came to let the balloons into the air, I knew it was time to let go… so I asked for a balloon, and singing along as Mandy sang to us a love song for the ones that she lost, and for as many as had gone in Dana Air Crash, I made out from under the canopy I was seated at. I was ready to let Amaka go, I was going to live on from there; yes, I will do all that is in my power to make sure this occurrence never happens again. No, I’m not going to let the sacrifice of a superstar, such as Amaka, go in vain. I dug in my feet and said no more! No more shoddy jobs, no more will I let someone get away with doing things wrongly. No more, Nigeria, no more! I refuse to be an Automated Condolence Machine (@DOlusegun.)
So I let go the balloon! No, I didn’t! I held on a little longer just when there were a few inches of the rope left in my grasp… I wasn’t ready yet, please let me hold on to Amaka a little longer… just a tiny bit longer. So I took a deep breath and finally let it go, same time I let go of the rope. I smiled as a watched the balloon climb higher trying to catch up with some of those that had gone ahead, not waiting for the ones behind it. Yes, I did let go after all, smiling as I did. But, as I watched it climb, I suddenly became aware anew that it was real. Wow, this is really for real! Tears came rushing down, I couldn't stand watching any longer… ran back to my seat, half blinded by my tears. Yet, I left with hope… because there are yet men like me, who would not stand and watch this happen again. I heard people take that vow right there in that service… each one to himself vowed to make things work in spite of this. The fact that men and women (most of whom didn’t lose someone on that flight) could come together to make things happen, told there yet remains hope for my Country. As the service was closing, Kwami voiced out my heart rant, “we are taking our life back!” Kathleen (smile) said to me as I made to leave the venue “if I don’t see it in my lifetime, my children will see it! I’m here today because my mother and father didn’t fight!” I told her “I will see it in my lifetime, because my children must not meet this mess!” I will see the good Nigeria; she emerges speedily, faster than we can ever imagine. My heart still goes on… holding on to this hope!
Dedicated to Families, Friends of the Dana Air Crash victims and the survivors!
and even took time to take pictures of my creations, but by the time I was done, the rain wasn’t ready to give. I took some cereals (yeah, I’m a breakfast person) and went to sleep tweeting at friends and family.
Slept off like someone had hit me in the head, maybe something did though… yes, something did, the events of June 3rd did hit me in the head, it sent shivers through my body over and over again these past few days, leaving such a cold in my heart that sometimes threatens to freeze up my whole body. Anyway, I got up having slept about an hour or two, did a little touch-up of my painting and off I went, dressed in a sassy grey black stripped gown, blocking the colours up with a red foulard for the cold (I know what you’re thinking, the foulard actually matches a tiny tag at the helm of the gown ;-)) It was a warm day, almost hot even after the rain, but the cold I felt was not from the outside; it’s a result of my freezing heart… No, I didn’t cry; at least not yet… I was too hard for that. I could rant, even that doesn’t come often these days. I didn’t know what I was going out there you do, or maybe I did. Yes, I was going there to get relief from this pain in my heart; some succour from being with other people that feel the same pain or maybe more.
I won’t pretend my pain is as much as that of those who lost more than one friends or those whose family members had gone. No, I dare not… but neither can I deny that I don’t feel pain, or that anger doesn’t burn me up on the inside as fiery as hell itself… But this afternoon I was cold, and my woollen foulard couldn’t hold me. Usually I would sweat real hard with this scarf around me, but its warmth just won’t do today. It just wasn’t enough. Why was I headed where I was headed? You’d ask. I wanted to lay it all to rest, but like Lydia Sobogun I wasn’t ready to let go. I wanted to punish someone for the way I felt; I wanted them avenged… the thought of that still didn’t comfort me, yes I know I’m supposed to be past this, but maybe I chose to linger a little longer. So I spent the afternoon/evening fighting tears; a continuous series of fights, most of which I won and also lost quite a few. Can’t say I heard much of what was said at the Candle light Memorial service tagged #WeMustNotForget… but Donna did get my attention, so did Jumoke, I’m a sucker for poetry you see… Mandy did bless me too; with the songs, but I was most touched by her strength. Maybe because we knew someone in common: Amaka Ojugbana nee Awani.
You see, I had come sad, bitter even. Evening of the incident, I threatened to rain curses on everyone who allowed corruption hinder them from doing their job, thereby causing the death of these ones. I probably even did (would need some mind checking to be sure I didn't.) Then I wasn’t even aware of my loss. The knowledge of it on Monday morning finally silenced me; taking away the fight in me, but leaving behind a sad and vengeful spirit. This spirit willed me to wish upon whoever was guilty of the mishap every calamity possible to man, unthinkable things that even my mind wouldn’t think up no matter how hard I tried. When I couldn’t find succour even in their misfortune, I looked forward to this day; to this candle light service (my first ever.) I had said to myself: “it’ll all end then! Yes I will soon lay it all down. Yes, I will!” When the time came to let the balloons into the air, I knew it was time to let go… so I asked for a balloon, and singing along as Mandy sang to us a love song for the ones that she lost, and for as many as had gone in Dana Air Crash, I made out from under the canopy I was seated at. I was ready to let Amaka go, I was going to live on from there; yes, I will do all that is in my power to make sure this occurrence never happens again. No, I’m not going to let the sacrifice of a superstar, such as Amaka, go in vain. I dug in my feet and said no more! No more shoddy jobs, no more will I let someone get away with doing things wrongly. No more, Nigeria, no more! I refuse to be an Automated Condolence Machine (@DOlusegun.)
So I let go the balloon! No, I didn’t! I held on a little longer just when there were a few inches of the rope left in my grasp… I wasn’t ready yet, please let me hold on to Amaka a little longer… just a tiny bit longer. So I took a deep breath and finally let it go, same time I let go of the rope. I smiled as a watched the balloon climb higher trying to catch up with some of those that had gone ahead, not waiting for the ones behind it. Yes, I did let go after all, smiling as I did. But, as I watched it climb, I suddenly became aware anew that it was real. Wow, this is really for real! Tears came rushing down, I couldn't stand watching any longer… ran back to my seat, half blinded by my tears. Yet, I left with hope… because there are yet men like me, who would not stand and watch this happen again. I heard people take that vow right there in that service… each one to himself vowed to make things work in spite of this. The fact that men and women (most of whom didn’t lose someone on that flight) could come together to make things happen, told there yet remains hope for my Country. As the service was closing, Kwami voiced out my heart rant, “we are taking our life back!” Kathleen (smile) said to me as I made to leave the venue “if I don’t see it in my lifetime, my children will see it! I’m here today because my mother and father didn’t fight!” I told her “I will see it in my lifetime, because my children must not meet this mess!” I will see the good Nigeria; she emerges speedily, faster than we can ever imagine. My heart still goes on… holding on to this hope!
Dedicated to Families, Friends of the Dana Air Crash victims and the survivors!
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