Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

Behold a timid soul, so meek,
A life of silence, words unspoken, feelings bleak.
Shut up, shut down, the world did scorn,
Yet deep inside, a fire was born.

As a child, I longed to join the lively dance,
But fear of judgment kept me in a trance.
I yearned to break these heavy chains,
To free the words that flowed in my veins.

In solitude, I practiced, my thoughts took flight,
Imagined days when I’d stand and fight.
With trembling lips and quivering voice,
I vowed to rise, to make my choice.

The day arrived, a chance so rare,
To let my words fill the vibrant air.
I spoke, though shaky, I stood tall,
A whisper first, then heard by all.

With every word, my strength did grow,
A newfound courage began to show.
I faced the doubts, the judgment’s stare,
And found my voice, beyond compare.

Each day I learned to be unbound,
To stand my ground, to be profound.
To let my voice resound and sing,
To spread my wings, to take the ring.

The journey from silence to being free,
A metamorphosis, a true decree.
Now my spirit soars, my heart is light,
With newfound voice, I have found my might.

For all timid souls, please take heed,
Break free from chains, let your heart lead.
Embrace the power that lies in you,
Let your voice shine, let it ring true.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

Photo credit: iStock

I speak, but you do not pay attention.
People view my limp as a sign of defiance.
Your “yes” silences my “no”
Why does it appear that my suffering makes you happy, Mother?

Every night he gets into my bed.
He dominates me by pushing and slapping me.
Mother, why does he abuse me without feeling guilty?

I told you about his impure behavior in private.
However, you struck out, leaving wounds.
You told me to bear it and be quiet.
He is your fourth husband,
So why should my ‘Ogbanje’ disturb your mother’s peace and quiet?

I begged for your forgiveness,
But you dismissed me as an idiot.
Even during my period, this pain became into a nightly ritual.
He pushed himself up against me carelessly.
Leaving me to clean up the aftermath.

Mother, why?

He claims my very presence arouses him
My natural growth, my curves – gifts from God
Not meant to be abused by him
He even gropes me in your presence, and you do nothing.

Mother, why?

Are you truly my mother?
I doubt you carried me in your womb
I doubt I ever nursed from your breast
I must find my real mother
Despite our physical resemblance, this connection feels wrong
Did you steal me from my true mother?

Mother, why?

At 9pm, you would tell me to bathe
As I sat motionless, you would apply powder to my neck
“Smell fresh for him, as usual,” you would say
Those words were like a foul stench, suffocating me
I was only 13.

Mother, why?

You stood by the door and watched as he violated me
My cries meant nothing to you
Your breast never responded to my moans
You stood there, watching
After his vile act, you handed him a toilet roll to clean up

Mother, why?

I curse the day my father married you
I curse the day you conceived me
I curse the days when your two husbands abused me at ages 6 and 10
It seems you derive pleasure from my pain
Confess! Did you bring me into this world to suffer?
Are you a demon sent to punish me?
Is this my karma from a past life?

Mother, why?

Today, I plead before I act
Please, tell me the truth
Enough of this pain
Enough of your desires, it is my turn now
I want to break free from your hypnotic charm
Mother, can you explain why?

With this knife, I solemnly swear on my father’s grave
If you refuse to reveal your ‘why’
Prepare to face my father at the gates of heaven and explain your choices
But if you remain steadfast in your silence
Then together, we will leave the earthly realm and bring this case before the divine judge
We will meet our fate together, and Hell will welcome you
And I shall finally find eternal peace

Goodbye, Mother.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

Photo credit: iStock

I speak, but you do not pay attention.
People view my limp as a sign of defiance.
Your “yes” silences my “no”
Why does it appear that my suffering makes you happy, Mother?

Every night he gets into my bed.
He dominates me by pushing and slapping me.
Mother, why does he abuse me without feeling guilty?

I told you about his impure behavior in private.
However, you struck out, leaving wounds.
You told me to bear it and be quiet.
He is your fourth husband,
So why should my ‘Ogbanje’ disturb your mother’s peace and quiet?

I begged for your forgiveness,
But you dismissed me as an idiot.
Even during my period, this pain became into a nightly ritual.
He pushed himself up against me carelessly.
Leaving me to clean up the aftermath.

Mother, why?

He claims my very presence arouses him
My natural growth, my curves – gifts from God
Not meant to be abused by him
He even gropes me in your presence, and you do nothing.

Mother, why?

Are you truly my mother?
I doubt you carried me in your womb
I doubt I ever nursed from your breast
I must find my real mother
Despite our physical resemblance, this connection feels wrong
Did you steal me from my true mother?

Mother, why?

At 9pm, you would tell me to bathe
As I sat motionless, you would apply powder to my neck
“Smell fresh for him, as usual,” you would say
Those words were like a foul stench, suffocating me
I was only 13.

Mother, why?

You stood by the door and watched as he violated me
My cries meant nothing to you
Your breast never responded to my moans
You stood there, watching
After his vile act, you handed him a toilet roll to clean up

Mother, why?

I curse the day my father married you
I curse the day you conceived me
I curse the days when your two husbands abused me at ages 6 and 10
It seems you derive pleasure from my pain
Confess! Did you bring me into this world to suffer?
Are you a demon sent to punish me?
Is this my karma from a past life?

Mother, why?

Today, I plead before I act
Please, tell me the truth
Enough of this pain
Enough of your desires, it is my turn now
I want to break free from your hypnotic charm
Mother, can you explain why?

With this knife, I solemnly swear on my father’s grave
If you refuse to reveal your ‘why’
Prepare to face my father at the gates of heaven and explain your choices
But if you remain steadfast in your silence
Then together, we will leave the earthly realm and bring this case before the divine judge
We will meet our fate together, and Hell will welcome you
And I shall finally find eternal peace

Goodbye, Mother.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
http://www.ifedolapoogunn

Photo credit: iStock

Right in my threads and fabric’s embrace,
I have learned a truth, a lesson to embrace,
One of time’s power, woven fine,
In every stitch, the essence of life’s design.

A dress I wore, a cherished attire,
In colors vibrant, my heart’s desire,
But time, that relentless weaver’s hand,
Unfurled its might, a tear, unplanned.

A single stitch I could have made,
To save the dress, its beauty displayed,
Yet heedless I, I let it be,
Thinking, “Tomorrow will set it free.”

But alas, the morrow came and went,
More tears appeared, their numbers spent,
The longer I waited, the worse it grew,
A flawed design, my neglect in view.

Oh, the power of doing things on time,
As I observed that dress of mine,
Procrastination, a sly disguise,
It lures with comfort, but soon belies.

For with each passing hour, a fray,
The fabric weakened, colors astray,
And I, the culprit, to blame for this,
Neglect’s embrace, the path to amiss.

With needle and thread, I took my stand,
To mend the dress with steady hand,
Each careful stitch, a symbol of might,
To battle time and set things right.

And as the dress began to heal,
Its beauty returned, a wondrous appeal,
I realized the truth in my grasp,
Time’s power subdued in a timely clasp.

Beyond the dress, a wisdom arose,
In life’s grand tapestry, it surely shows,
To seize the moments, before they fade,
Is to honor the design life laid.

For just as a dress that tears and frays,
A life untended, in disarray,
Yet with each timely act we bind,
A symphony of moments well-aligned.

May these words of mine remind,
Of the power in doing things on time,
With each stitch of life we sow,
A masterpiece of moments will grow.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi