Lifestyle & Travel
On these lonesome coal-stained nights, when the air of silence and thick stench of latent indecision, lingers all around, threatening to upset her equilibrium, She will close her eyes, inhale deeply and laugh in the face of the void that he always leaves behind because her memories almost fill it. Somewhere, in a foreign solar… Continue reading Dear Boyfriend
Each time an aunty at a party asks me ba wo ni? The real answer is a lodge in my throat. I reply the way I know how; I am good aunty. Days like this I shrink into a cage of shame. Maybe it’s partly to do with my father, I was hesitant to learn… Continue reading On Losing My Language
The time will come when, with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror and each will smile at the other's welcome, and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the… Continue reading Love After Love
For the days when your waistline feels more like a coastline, do not blame the wind and waves, there's simply more of you to kiss the shore. ©Assumpta Ozua 2017 For quite some time [lately] I have felt a little uncomfortable in my own skin. Not because I have a problem with how I look… Continue reading Growing Pains
Today I wished I had the perfect photographic memory, or better still, a more extensive vocabulary to capture the very essence of you. I wanted my ears to transform into dictaphones so that I might record, replay and re-live all of our nonsense conversations. The ones that induce belly-laughs so deep I'd swear your jokes… Continue reading Memories
In the stillness of the night. In that moment when lonely orphans star-gaze and dream of what could have been, would have been, should have been memories formed yesterday, today or tomorrow of parents and loved ones silent smiles, warm embraces and quiet whispers of “I love you”, chasing the monsters away. In the moments… Continue reading If You Let Me
My pain and my strife is like an open wound exposed by the knife we call life. Assumpta Ozua 2000 Those 3 lines provide a small insight into my mind circa age 14 (that's when I wrote it). It never ceases to amaze me how little the things I dwelled on back then, matter now.… Continue reading Teenage Angst
It’s raining hours on my minutes while I wish it would just shower seconds. Seconds until night finally takes his rest and dawn beckons the inauguration of a new day Where time ceases to be my foe and becomes my friend, Abetting my restless spirit to find solace in polite conversation, uninhibited wit and an… Continue reading Time
The minute I heard He called you home, my arms hung like a wall clock at 5.35, every appendage saluting the floor while disconsolate eyes spat bitterness from the flooded alcoves of my soul. I wish you were still here. Your passing fractured blistered air, redirecting draughts to the passageway of a tortured torso inducing… Continue reading Breathless
