The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned. -Maya Angelou
This place, as it stands in all its faults and all its beauty will never be who I am. I cannot bring myself to submit to the ways of this broken system. I will not survive a corruption of my independent thought and speech. I feel lost. This is not my home. This will never be my home. I just wanna go home.
“Whoso has felt the spirit of the Highest,
Cannot confound nor doubt Him, nor deny,
Yea, with one voice, O world, though thou deniest,
Stand thou on that side, for on this am I!” – F.W.H. Myers
I very rarely get it right. Most days I grapple with the idea that a Being so great would live and love us so completely as to let us choose. Most mornings, I wonder why I have to endure the task of a day’s worth of everything that goes against the rationale that God could exist. But He must. For me to live, He must. And if the day should ever come when I find He doesn’t, so my life will reach its end.
Often as African women, it seems as though the world expects us to make apologies for our dark skin and coarse hair. We’re not modelled to suit the look of what society idolises as the ideal/beautiful woman. In Africa, what is perhaps more saddening, is how the system seems to turn a blind eye to the ill treatment of women; we are often targets of unprovoked degradation and abuse. I read a quote this week that made me so proud to be an African woman and thought it was worth sharing:
“African women in general need to know that it’s OK for them to be the way they are – to see the way they are as a strength, and to be liberated from fear and from silence.” -Wangari Maathai