WOMANITY

              WOMANITY

She was called the mother of all nations
A beauty queen of her time
The hope of the future
The light at the end of a dark tunnel
She was an embodiment of wisdom
A home and a nation builder she was

From head to toe reveals the perfect job of the creator in her
She was the mother of kings and queens
Although man was made to be her crown
Without her men are incomplete

But as the beginning of the end of days approaches
Cries without tears
Bleeding hearts
A mistress of deception
Placards with expressions of disappointment
Displaced the hails of her glory

She lost her honorable name to agodless world
The queen becomes "Every"
Her vessel becomes many vessels to strange men
Who have interest in nothing but her exposed contours
And the skimpy dress she wears

What happened to her former glory
What happened to her integrity and decency
When did her figure 8 becomes a trademark for iniquity
Will she continue in this lifestyle of godless abominable acts of corrupted womanity?

High atop the steps of film house cinema in ShopRite surulere Lagos a younger version of herself laughed and called down to her. “Grace, hurry up! I knew you couldn’t keep up!” her smile was magic.

     She struggled to keep up but her legs felt like stone. “Wait”, she begged, “please…”

     As she climbed, her vision began to blur. There was a thundering in her ears. I must reach her but when she looked up again, the little girl had disappeared.

     She was trapped in the nightmare again, she stood in the middle of the vast room imprisoned by walls so distant they might have been miles away. There was nothing but the pounding of her own heart. She was not quite sure how she got there… she was at the film house cinema trying to keep up with the little girl and the next minute she was in her step father’s house; in her old bedroom.

     Suddenly she knew what she had to do, save the little girl. With great effort she turned, her legs felt weighted, her pulse hammered as she listened for a sound… a whisper… a stirring somewhere.

     Unexpectedly, a dim, pulsating light appeared in the opposite corner of the house, she saw her then. Her body, clad only in a night dress, was flung across the bed like a broken doll, discarded and forgotten. “Grace, kiddo” She lunged forward but found herself frozen in place, like an ice statue. Again she screamed her name, straining towards her lifeless body but she was paralyzed, unable to move.

     Finally she broke free, stumbling towards grace, crying her name over and over again, in a desperate litany. She moved with maddening slowness, felt the floor grasping, sucking at her feet, threatening to pull her down. Her every move was labored. She strained, her heart thundering, her chest burning with the effort.

     The horror deepened, seizing her mind, threatening her sanity, as she saw grace body suddenly jerk. Stunned, she watched her lift herself up with agonizing effort, then turn around and at that instant, their eyes locked. The little girl opened her mouth and began to scream, a terrible echoing that pierced the last vestige of her sanity “God… help me, help me”. But the abuse to her innocence, pride, girlhood was total, brutal and devastating. #Onceuponafamily...