My Inner Musings

Have you ever been bullied because of your flawed skin? Had kids refuse to let you play on the swings? Were you the outcast amongst your friend groups? It’s an awful feeling that leaves you insecure and lonely.  For as long as I can remember, I’ve had chickenpox-like spots on my body; my arms and legs only, thank God. I had a case of chickenpox and the spots stayed, marking me like a leper. This was particularly worrisome for my parents and they spent a lot of time and resources trying to find a solution.  I can vividly recall the sterile smell of the hospitals, the patterned walls of the demartologist's office, the mechanical sounds of people and machines, the dreadful sight of those needles that endlessly pricked my veins, stealing my blood. Tests, they called it. To find out what was wrong with me. My fear of needles was birthed sitting in those stiff examining chairs, my mom holding my head away as blood was drawn. At some point, I was tired. I had accepted my fate. I’d ne...

                                        CHAPTER ONE    The woods were dark as a raven’s hide and the only light was from the full moon. I didn’t pause to admire its beauty, I ran. I ran like my life depended on it because yeah, it kinda did. I could hear the sound of feet pounding the forest floor, matching my own in this frenzied chase. What it was, I didn’t know. I only knew the why. I had to strain my eyes to avoid running into trees because I couldn’t afford to give It any chance of catching up to me.     My chest hurt, my breaths coming in short bursts. I could feel my heart working overtime to keep up with the strain I was exerting on it. Air, I need more air. I felt lightheaded, my vision disoriented, slowly failing me in my hour of need. And still, It chased me, not affected in the slightest. Just a little bit more, I thought. The Cottage was just a little...

                           PROLOGUE     Silence. Deafening silence. That’s when I realized something was wrong. Not even the rustling of a leaf could be heard. My heart pounding, I gathered my skirts and ran. I didn’t run away, I ran towards the danger. Oh God, please...My breathing was getting erratic, I was falling over the overgrown roots and tree barks and still, I ran. I was gasping for air by the time I came upon him.    I could feel the moment my heart dropped to my stomach. It was as though the world had stopped, just me and him, the clearing....and the blood. Oh, the blood. I’d never seen so much blood flow from one person.     I inched closer, afraid of what I’d find. Don't let him be dead please, I prayed. I bent down a little unsteadily and fell forward on his chest. He wasn't moving. Maybe I was too panicked. I raised my head, and placed my hand on his face, slowly inchi...

         A Humanitarian Nightmare: The Realities of Refugees and IDPs in Nigeria As far back as I can remember, I’ve always associated refugees with war-torn countries, bombs going off and people scrambling around with meager belongings on their back, in hopes of outrunning death. Collateral damages of a country’s pride and bloodthirsty need for war.  But as I age, and become more exposed to the dark realities of the world, I’ve come to realize that those numbers aren’t just figures and blank faces, they are people. With lives, families, occupations; lovers, neighbors, friends; and lost dreams. They are human, with names and identities. Just like me and I. It could be any of one of us. Because in the world we live in today, we’re not so far removed from the reality (or more appropriately, nightmare) of being refugees or displaced ourselves. It’s already happening.                           ...