A Girls Dream, A Mother's Prayer. #ArtTherapy

Nnem I remember,
The pitter patter, rain drops on the window pane of my bedroom, too loud yet incapable of blocking out the sound of your gentle sobs, the ones you cried softly so you wouldn't "wake" the children that never slept,
the heaving of your chest as you spit out the words " nne I have tried! This will be my last night here"... Night after night.

I can not forget, the gurgling that made me rush to your room door, heart banging against my chest, "let me out of here!", so I can fall on the ground and break into a million little pieces and be blown into the wind never to return here. Numb. It was sore relief and welled up anger to know you were only laughing, " why were you laughing in that manner?! You scared me!".

You see, the fear of what you went through built a false resistance of man in me, like to be free I had to stay bound beneath layers of suspicion and sensitivity, so everywhere you shielded yourself from the blows, I rose my hands to block away the light that struggled to pierce the darkness in my eyes and where you lifted your voice in protest against deadly blows, I rose mine as well " No! Please don't!" Don't  come any closer!

For in my heart He had the semblance of a man and I was done with fathers.
 When he held your hands to pin them down in place... " No don't touch me! ,go away!", I struggled same, for days and years, because why would He touch me, why would He even care? You watched him and did nothing so why are You even here?

It was in the struggle I would realise that the consequence of violence even the one termed domestic, is a big issue in all, the reason that He Came. In expecting Him to destroy the fires starter, I never noticed He had walked into the fire to ensure I was not consumed. He came to pour water.

My strength grew weak from fighting, my mind grew weak from asking, my eyes grew weak from crying as He firmly held on to both my hands terribly shaken, He said,

"Ozugo! It is enough.."
For the teeth of a child will no longer be dazed by the sour grapes his ancestors ate.

Ozugo, it is enough!
Because another will not die to pay for the sin of mistakes in the name of Love blasphamed.

Ozugo it is enough!
Because pierced hands and feet will redeem the broken, the bruised and the pained.

"You see my Child I come in peace, Jide ya, take it and let me show you what Father means".


*Nnem- Native Igbo for Mother.


  1. Choi! What a thing of beauty to see that buried underneath the ashes is something of value, so lovely and so cherished.

    Ozugo... It is enough...
    For if we don't pay attention to the ones we call daughters, mothers, friends and sisters; then there's no telling who the monster will eat next, 'cos his appetite grows stronger...
    #Jisike #JisikeErrday!

  2. Amazing how He came and set the captive free.


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