Lightwriter's Archive

Image source: Pexels.com You’re on a stage, a lot of eyes on you, not necessarily piercing through your soul, but eagerly awaiting you to deliver your masterpiece - expectant set of eyes that won’t even blink. Greatness, possibilities, achievements - think of the many other amazing things that are within your reach, all waiting for you to claim them, just for yourself. You feel on top of the world, it's all you've ever wanted, and all you just need to do is deliver, and you walk away a champion, a conqueror. But, as you proceed to speak, a lump forms in your throat, the microphone feedback whines rather irritatingly, and suddenly, rather than the eager eyes you used to see, you see daggers. A pair each from one person, waiting to throw themselves at you at the slightest chance of provocation. You suddenly begin to feel inadequate. “What am I doing on such a high stage?" You ask yourself "What if I fall?"  "What if I don't meet up with their expectations?...

Image source: Pexels.com Tade had been acting strangely all day, even his closest colleagues in the office noticed the change. His normally ebullient demeanor was replaced by a sullen distracted one, he was also snapping at coworkers and working without enthusiasm, so it wasn't difficult to guess that something was wrong; however, they didn't know what it was.  “The boys are hanging out tonight at the lounge, are you coming?” John, one of his colleagues, asked from the door. Even though he had been the bravest among them to approach Tade in his mood, he would rather not push his luck by overstepping, so he did it from a distance. Tade, in his sullen mood, hesitated. He was torn between going home to his wife immediately or heading out to clear his head first. Finally, he went for the latter, hoping that a change of scenery might do him some good. For a few hours, the guys at the lounge were able to lift Tade's spirits. They cracked jokes, laughed and even shared their work...

   Image source: iStock Credit: leschnyhan  Bolanle was a girl who had been dealt the cold blow of cruel tradition. She was once a happy girl whose smile never ceased to light up the faces of others; her laughter would usually echo in the ears of her listeners, even in her absence. Her experience had caused her laughter to become a whisper, and her smile, a distant memory to those who knew her. She had become a shadow of herself, sapped of the very essence of life itself. Tradition, like a strong chain, had reached to her to bind her, just as it did the generations before her. A cruel act performed in the name of protection was a rite of passage every girl had to go through in her village. However, Bolanle knew that it wasn't entirely true. She knew that her protection would come at a cost, causing her to lose a vital part of her. Protection was synonymous to fear, pain and silence… sometimes, beautiful voices silenced and dreams buried in the graveyard. Sadly, she didn't...