So I entered an odd mood last night and wrote this.


“You’re quite strong”

People have said this to me a lot. I’d smile and say Thank you but deep inside me, i chortle in disbelief.

Me? Strong? Since when?

I laugh because I know myself. I laugh because at night, I confront the true me. In the silence of midnight, my Cinderella moment disappears and the real person is revealed.



Easily hurt.

I laugh because of the clumsiness I encounter, trying to sort these feelings out. The feelings of inadequacy and need for support.

Now let me ask, Am I still strong?

Life has been unfair to me as it has to everybody. To the world, I have moved on with my life. I am smiling. I am achieving. You’re so strong. To have gone through all that and still be yourself. I smile and say Thank you.


You do not see the coward hiding behind fake smiles. You do not see the actress, passing the part of a satisfied lady. You do not see the cracks that appear when the mental burden becomes much. Of course, you cannot because I keep it under lock and key don’t I? I’m a strong woman that cries herself to sleep some nights just because life has been unfair.

Am I still strong?

My emotional detachment is amazing, I’ve been told. Celibate for so many years. You’re sooooo strong. I laugh.

They do not see the person that yearns for love. That wants to be held too. They do not see the one that struggles with her flesh for dominance. They do not see the one that craves the feeling of being wanted; to feel appreciated even for a moment.

Where is the strength?

No where.

I am a weak little shit.

Who is strong?

Lee, battling sickle cell anaemia is strong. She kicks, she fights. I notice. She is strong because she hasn’t given up yet.

Debbie, battling breast cancer is strong. Shaved head, slim, yet she resonates with strength. She resonates with a will to fight to live.

Chukwudi, your eyes are your problem. The first time you told me about it, I was so sad, I cried a little. You have not let the threat of blindness stop you from doing the things you love, from achieving, from writing. I pray your book makes it because you are strong and strong people deserve a fighting chance.

Uche, you were left with children because your husband decided he wanted to enjoy younger pussy. With your educational achievements in hand and God beside you, you made a way for yourself. You’re strong because you did not let yourself feel self pity for so long. You’re strong because you had a plan for you and your children and you pushed to make it happen.

They’re strong.

I am not.

I am just another pretender, struggling like everyone else.

I am weak because I am afraid of failing. I an afraid of failing again after failing. I am afraid of rejection.

I am just another pretender.

Not strong.





What is strength really?