Gbagide

Nwaanyi ukwu,

Kings are not made of stone

Women Kings are not made of stone either

They are made of a heart that burns

Their decisions are not given to opinions

They are given to truth, peace, and conscience.

The past is the past, and you must accept that it is.

You cannot turn the tides back, but you can ride the storms ahead as you will.

You can fashion the light to your becoming.

Take the steel, take the wood, and make a city that belongs to you, for you are not small.

Yet, let your heart forget not

Forget not that you are your own 

Forget not that your hurt is a blessing to ones yet to be born and to the one that are living 

Forget not the beauty of your life

Forget not the pain that moulded you

Forget not that you were first a girl before you became a woman

Remember to let that girl live

Let her smile

Let her play

Her innocence is not a weakness you need to slay

You must know that

It is strength.

So I say to you, give yourself grace

Be kind to yourself 

Be gracious with your dealings.

Rise with dignity and kindness 

Do not hold back your voice, but channel your emotions thoughtfully

Let the vapour of your mind flow through your words

Remember your life is a journey 

It is not a race 

It is not a showcase for men to validate

It is a marathon

You will fall, but you will rise, and for any time you fall, never stay down.

Remember that the best you give is first for yourself before the rest.

Again, give yourself grace

Have faith and stay with your pace 

The beauty is on the other side of staying 

So, my dear, be steady 

Keep your back straight and shoulders high, but when the girl who is tired shows up, allow her to cry, allow her to sigh.

Learn that depth is not a trophy 

It is an anchor

It is what makes you thick.

Let your hands weave the fabrics of your suffering together 

Let your feet dance to the tune of your being

Let your eyes see what hope can build

Remember to live

Remember to present 

For what is life without memories

What are memories without people?

So I say to you, live for yourself, and let that life be a light unto grieving men.

This I write to you not in the ambiguity of words.

The complexity of life is given by the men who live it, but of what use is it if these intricacies hold no soul in them?

And so, I write to you in simple terms

I write to the woman who became a girl before she knew the weight of what it meant.

I write to her who has proven that strength is giving as it is in receiving.

I write to her who turned her scars to a story

She whose lips sang songs of freedom

I write to myself.

M degara onye ga-achi nke ya.

Nke a ka m na-agwa gi.

Jisike!

- Alria