The Girl with the Louding Voice

by Abi Daré

We all be speaking different because we all are having different growing-up life, but we can all be understanding each other if we just take the time to listen well.

I know that not everybody is having the same color of skin in Nigeria, even me and Kayus and Born-boy didn’t have same skin color, but nobody is calling anybody black or white, everybody is just calling us by our name: Adunni. Kayus. Born-boy. That’s all.

It feel like she is climbing out of herself and entering my own soul, my heart.

Then I swim deep inside the river of my soul, find the key from where it is sitting, full of rust, at the bottom of the river, and open the lock. I kneel down beside my bed, close my eyes, turn myself into a cup, and pour the memory out of me.

I am not a wasted waste; I am Adunni. A person important enough because my tomorrow will be better than today.

want to ask, to scream, why are the women in Nigeria seem to be suffering for everything more than the men?

I am a slave with no chain.”

I want to tell her that God is not a cement building of stones and sand. That God is not for all that putting inside a house and locking Him there. I want her to know that the only way to know if a person find God and keep Him in their heart is to check how the person is treating other people, if he treats people like Jesus says—with love, patience, kindness, and forgiveness—but