Saturday, 14 February 2015
I WOKE UP - FLAWLES
The gentle rays of the sun hit my windows this morning announcing the dawn of a new day. I woke up in time for sober reflection, a glowing cast was evident on my face. I turned back to my ripped off and charred yesterday. I discovered that someone, somewhere and some how nearly walked away with everything I could call mine- esteem, dignity and self confidence!
One of my grievous mistakes in life is setting standards for myself to follow. I was always self-concious of my "petit" nature. I inposed stretching exercises, I raided fashion malls for ultra high-heeled shoes so as to add a few inches to my height. What did I get? I tumbled down the hallway and "yammy" lumps started popping out of my legs. I banished those heels from my closet. After all I had attained the height of wisdom.
I looked at my pimply face and rushed to the cosmetic shop for the most "effective" face smoothners and pimple removal cream. I wanted to be in the Nigerian context "fresh boy". It was not funny, my skin started to peel and getting bleached. I was not ready to give up my skin colour for anything. I had to appreciate what I have.
Next were my clothes. They were too "non-swaggy" and "un-fresh". I wanted to spicing things up. I acquired the newest chinos trousers and bad-boy shirt s and gold chains and rings to go with. I felt wacky wearing them. I brought back my "un-fresh" clothes and started walking tall again.
What should I do with my hair. I just couldn't stay brushed as dry elephant grasses spring up when they are trampled. I bought bottles of chemicals called "relaxers". I even thought of dying my hair that was before Ifemelu in Adichie's Americannah taught me that my hair was my unique signature.
Then I turned to how I spoke. I thought it was "un-English". I bought a phonetics textbook and started speaking in a shrill voice. That was awful. I was angry and had a fake voice, I was angry because I had a fake voice and I had a fake voice because I was angry.
I stopped everything. I could not keep up to the standards I kept for myself. I felt to realize that they were mere societal conventions, they were not standards at all. I started realizing that I was flawless because I know my flaws.
This is for young and colorful men and women who drawing to the wit ends. Just to say that we should wake up every morning- FLAWLESS.
THE BLOGGER CREATED THIS.
Innocent is a young African writer, owner of https://youngandflawless.
wordpress.com/ and an economics undergraduate at the University of Nigeria Nsukka. Innocent writes about what he feels and recognizes. His works like To my seizure boy, Bro Chinua, Our Waka About Husband, Running but not hiding are his own ways of retelling the many stories of Africa. As versatile as he is creative, his flexibility in writing evidently shows in his mastery of poetry, prose and drama. He draws influences from Adichie, Beyonce, his aunt, mother and sisters of whom he calls "my women". Innocent hopes to be the next big thing in African global writing. Keep staying flawless you all.