I believe I can write and hence bring something to once an empty space.Like fill all these broken lines with words creating beautiful fluidity.Just like an artist takes broken ceramic pieces,lines them patiently together binding them with glue and in others adhesive conta for strength.Slowly and one by one a once hole of dissertation beautifully transforms into a museum of art.
Yes,just like an architect picks and open ground,previously devoid of life but filled with the garbage of human frustration.In some areas buzzing with flies amidst compost and human excreta.He toasts it upside down and from thence creates an arena booming with life.
Better still,I believe I can write the pages of history created by persons not heard before,only felt from the strength of their actions.Let’s for a moment not think Adolf Hitler with his ambitious death revolution.I look at it more like a genocide for lack of comprehension.Or better yet,not Nelson Mandela who preached oneness in Apartheid-stricken South Africa.
Forgive me for not thinking Martin Luther King who fought not with fists or cavalry for the liberation of black Americans in the US of A.Instead he did it with words and eloquence.There are many more known and unsung revolutionaries not mentioned.Yes,I have utmost respect and adoration for such great persons who had dreams,woke up from them and made them into realities.
If I may retract to self,I now come to terms and understanding as to why dear tortoise retracts into her shell,most often thought for protection but rather for comfort and peace of mind.Here in myself I find this great urge to pick up Pen and Paper and pour out my desire for a positive energy flow in a spit of ink.I believe that the universe will sure merge its energy with mine in this call for an open heart and eye.
Yes,alongside my reading and unreading society we can for once look into the depths and perils of our society and together maybe,just maybe we can bring a brighter difference into its brokenness.
Yes,I know we cannot fix it all in a day but just like these sketches of mine,together with those of the architect or even of the artist we can from nothing piece up a masterpiece.
A masterpiece that is a society that has a heart.A people that don’t look at a broken little girl struggling to make it through school,devoid of finances.These same people being in a position to assist but rather than being pillars of support and giving a helping hand,these same pillars become the evil ghosts and monsters that crushes her to naught.
This,they achieve with ease and without a heart by taking advantage of her only prized possession,her beauty and flower,her sexuality.Wasn’t there a father,mother or even sibling who could hear them out and report these heinous acts?Yes there was but all frailed and pushed to the wall by lack of a say….
Better still look at this little street kid who in the morning rain comes to your car window,as they stretch out their fragile hands,requesting for alms or something little to buy them food.You roll down your window and answer them,”What do you need money for,shouldn’t you be in school or working?You are the same boys who rob us around!”
Did you for a moment think about engaging the little fella in a conversation,in process trying to understand where they come from rather than implanting these negative thoughts from your mind into their minds and hearts?Well,did you even imagine that maybe they aren’t orphaned but could have just run away from this same monstrosity from whence they came from and here where they sought solace find you?
That maybe just maybe,this same little boy might have run from a brutal dad,who on mistreating him the mother had no say but to keep quiet and let things be.He finds himself helpless and has to be saved by the very legs God blessed him with?
Maybe they needed someone to listen to them,yes just maybe…like this isolated case I met in traffic Today,interrupted by the flow of cars.
Yes I believe that with these broken sketches that is our ailing nation,we can look beyond the corruption of day and be the very persons that heal that heartache.That together and with hands clasped into each other’s we can walk the difficult paths less trodden upon and there sing a song of unity.I still believe that even with our very own broken and ailing finances,we can spare a little and share with those who in most cases can make do with only little essentials and can’t grope for the extravagance that we call riches.Oh I believe in you and I,that we can write and change this story.
Yes PePa,I believe.