My name is Ibanujẹ;
I used to cower behind the curtains as blows rained like hail on my mother’s frame
I am Ibanujẹ, I bear the scars from attempting to stop my father’s rage
My pillows have melted from constantly drenching them with my tears
My truth hides within me for my lips are sealed by the memories of his wretched hands on my body
I am Ibanujẹ, motherless for the life he took from her, fatherless for the man I wish he were
My smiles are all but gone for when I try it seems like a death mask
My laughter is hollow and has no soul for life is naught to me but death
My name is Ibanujẹ;
I walk the streets with my head held high and my hair just right
I am Ibanujẹ, I hide my scars with meaningless smiles and tailored strides
My gait is perfect, my jokes are witty and I’m the life of the party
Yet I awake each night with cries of anguish from tortured dreams
I am Ibanujẹ, broken and worn, heart filled with silent screams
I am friend, lover, colleague, neighbor and stranger
*** Ibanujẹ: Yoruba term meaning misery
3 Comments
I know Ibanujè, I see her a lot.
Osione, this was well conceived and written.
Thank you Samu, thank you😊
The truth is, this is much more common than it is seems…