DEAR JEMIMAH

I have found a dream that has become my reality. I thought you would be that person that would make the pieces fit rightly together. But you never did try. You loved me to the extent your ego permitted. You never truly give every bit of your heart. You have a way of keeping the part that helps you breathe the breath of resentment and malice.

I  am not entirely correct. You weren't really meant for me, but I couldn't let the idea of letting you go find a place in my heart. I wanted you at the cost of our lives.

They may say no one ever can tell the cause of a broken home, but here is a clue for them : That she broke your heart may not be her fault. It doesn't make her the bad person. Sometimes, it takes a broken heart to bring one to a point where one realizes that one was never compatible with the other.

The other person may not be entirely wrong. They may happen on you as a 'right person for the wrong person.'

So when they say NO to you. Let it go. You will find a resounding YES soonest!

@andreyyte

Dear Jimoh [part one] - Andrew Osas Igbineweka

Good Evening Beauties!

I have not uploaded any of my piece on this platform for a while now for reasons I cannot start to explain. I hope you would find it in your large heart to understand and forgive.

This piece is addressed to an imaginary son whose name is Jimoh. The writer in person is me. Yes, I wrote it originally. The mom is that lady you know about. The lady that shares the same fears as this.
However, I am going to be sharing it in pages. And this is to make is bearable for those who find reading exhausting.  It is just three pages. So expect the next page by tomorrow. Thanks!

I'd like for you to leave me a response in the comment field.

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Dear Jimoh

I love you so much. I know you are quite familiar with these words but I will keep saying it until you don’t need to hear it to know it is true. I have loved you from when you were feeble and frail. I have loved you from when you were only an idea in my mind; when you were only a fantasy that interrupted my reality. You came into my life when I dreaded that my husband’s family was getting tired of harbouring my incessant miscarrying. You were a blessing. You are a blessing, and I remain forever grateful to have begotten you in my life time.

But Jimoh, there are some crucial matters that make me worry so much about your tomorrow. I have watched you grow. I have watched you make mansions out of clay. I have watched you turn out the best in your class during your secondary school days. I remember that day you discovered you could sing and dance. I remember the light I saw in your eyes and how that it completed the beauty in your face. I always knew there was something missing in your face. But that night it dawned on me; you discovered purpose and then it all came out right. The glow on your face could not be ignored. It sat on every corner of your tender face and somehow, it makes me smile each time I remember. 

My worries have caused me to write you this letter.

You have grown into this man and somehow, the beautiful boy you used to be has retired into solace, afraid of the darkness that the world preaches. You have ignored that part of you that is crucial to fulfilling purpose. Jimoh, I know life can be chaotic, especially for the ones with a vision. Sometimes you see the big picture and other times, it just becomes blur and vague. Today you have all you desire, all you deserve and the next, the world comes crashing on you. 

Dear Jimoh, I am not writing this letter to ease the worry and pain in your heart. I am not writing this letter to make you believe that every forest you venture would be without approaching claws. I am not writing this letter to tell you that you wouldn’t stumble and fall. I am not telling you by any means that at a snap of your finger you would have all you ever dreamed of. If I did, I would be lying to you.

I am writing you this letter to .... [STAY CONNECTED FOR THE NEXT PAGE]
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Thanks for reading!

Have you read #DiaryOfTheHostage?? Click to see

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Free expression by Andrey Whyte

I want to write out my thoughts in its rawest form. Not influenced by political correctness or literary induction. I want to imagine the world and paint it even with the sureness of a novice heart. I am tired of the constraint and the restriction in places where I desire freedom. My hands and heart crave a place of uncertain truce. They want to awake into a world of free expression. I want to write my thoughts the way they come: broken and incomplete. I want you to find a meaning to it without complaining – no complains about my literary capacity. I hate to be asked the meaning of what I have written. I hope you find a meaning that applies to your reality. My thoughts are broken in pieces you

Die you must! - #DiaryOfTheHostage

I started last week with The Unfortunate Night and instead of just rushing the whole story, I wanted to build it into something you would love. The story is told of a man who out of... Nah!! I do not wish to reveal the story this way. Kindly share The Unfortunate Night with your friends as we anticipate the chapter two of the piece. Here is a piece I wrote from before and I want you to read.

...and I saw my shredded parts in your eyes and I wished you had died from before.

Now I am unbelieving to believe you wouldn't imagine my light grow dim, your innocence would not allow you the joy of hurting me.

I imagined your hands wiping my tears and comforting my soul. I imagined my eyes in your face, mimicking your beauty.

#DiaryOfTheHostage (The unfortunate Night - Andrew Sylvester) #CHAPTER 1

The breeze was mild on her face and she wanted more of it. Her desire for more brought her outside at about 11:15pm that fateful day. She wondered in the night; she did this often these days, since her dad is barely around to caution her stroll. He is often with his secret love; he wouldn't tell her - ''she wouldn't approve of it'' he once thought to himself.

Tribalism? A brother to racism?

STOP IT

A lady walked into the office today and tried to sell a product to the boss of the office but somewhere along the line she was sidetracked. The reason for this, i did not understand at the time but much later. the same product the lady attempted to sell to the boss was the same this man came to sell.