April 2025

I have never experienced a family’s love, Forced to live a life that was not mine, From childhood, I was shaped and molded, Yet left

The mirror is no longer our foe, Our eyes hold kindness for our reflection. We no longer look for perfection; We rather hold our flaws

My first cry was met with ecstasy, I was promptly dressed in tattered clothes, A lost stitch, a thread exposed, Fabric to be tested by

Beneath the adulterated shade of the baobab, I live a child of sorrow, destined to linger in shadows. Your hands, Father, resembled the dry harmattan,

Down on this road, She walked away, Leaving us behind, No one to care, No one to cook for us. Down on this road, She

In the peaceful corners of a young heart, Shadows start, where laughter danced. A loyal guide, my furry friend, Left without a goodbye, Leaving tears

I am here again, Wiping my tears, Calming my heart; I am still reduced to tears, By the kindness of strangers. I was so young,

Everyday, in the quiet of the classroom, My voice would quake. Like leaves on a windy day, m My courage would shake, Words would end,

The hands that cradled me,  Now push me away, The promises they made, Turned into wisps of smoke, The warmth in their eyes,  Now replaced

The day my mother left, the house grew cold, Empty rooms, shadows bold. I called for her, but silence fell, A living hell created, a