Broken Vessel

I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. I kept running amidst tears because I knew I needed to run as fast as my feet would carry me. I did not know how far my strength would carry me, nor did I realize when I will have belly cramps, but, what urged me on was the need to run from those heartless people, far from those animals in human clothing, far from those liars in the robes of reverends.
Then, I fell and that was the point! The point my feet became to weak to carry me, my body too weak to press further and my face too weak to release the tears fighting its way out of my eyes. Just then, I began to grasp for breath, the breath to move on or even press further. The struggle became intense, with all things around me speaking of my very end, breaking forth the tears that has been fighting its way out. I decided to rest and I knew my giving up was closer than I envisaged as I released my body to the ground. I didn’t know it was a pathway to unrest as those thoughts began coming in flashes to my head. I struggled to overcome them but the power it carried overshadowed me and reluctantly gave in to the thoughts. Yes those memories!

The memories of how they made promises with radiant smiles on their faces, the memories of how I thought they would stand by me through it all. The memories of how I thought they were pillars I could lean on.
Oh! How could I have been so blind to the fact that they are stings hidden in beautiful robes. How could I have been blind not to see beyond their innocent faces. Now, I am left alone to face the agony of destruction and lurk around the overpowering nature of darkness. Yet, those who are meant to stand by me are nowhere to be found, those who are meant to speak for me are lost in the wilderness of vanity and those who are meant to stay by me are lost entangled in the web of inevitable evil.
Finally, I thought I had gained my strength and tried to stand, but I found out I was stuck. I began to fight for my freedom, until I lost hope and now, I am a subject of stagnancy. I am without help and although some have promised me, I know how long I will wait for that person is rhetorical.
I am that destitute!
I am that dejected land!
I am that atmosphere of pain!
I am that aura of sorrow!
I am that who needs to gather its strength for survival!
I need answers!!!


Wura is an inquisitive and outspoken young lady who is definitely not your average, regular girl. She is a writer who likes to have fun. This is her personal space, her canvas and most interestingly, her gossip place. She's your everyday gist partner.

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Adedotun Alausa
January 18, 2018 at 4:30 pm

This is deep!
We all need to wake up and think not about what Nigeria can give us but about what we can give back to the country. That way we’d add values to the nation and help make it grow. Some people sacrificed for the growth of the developed countries and their names are engraved on the tablet of history. We can do the same too if we intentionally decide to.
We won’t let the negligence of our forefathers and leaders affect our own actions and choices. We will strive assiduously to make this country great.
God help Nigeria.
God bless Nigeria.

A terrific article you got there wura.
Keep it up

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