The Writings of Norah

“You have been programmed for it” that is the statement I can remember my grandmother saying the day I first complained to her about my size. I was only 10 and I know she said that good-naturedly. I can’t even blame her because in most respect she spoke the truth. I am fourth generation to an African family of over sized queens and proud of it. The queen bit, anyway. By the time I turned 18, I was known in my community as Pumpkin. Being overweight wasn’t so bad; the thing is I couldn’t seem to make any friends. Maybe I was too reserved or just unfriendly; whatever the reason I was alone in my life up till about 22. Anyway, I am still no miss social but now among the sprinkling of friends I have, I’ve got my laptop. She is the pathway to meet my best friend, the internet. The web has for many years been my companion and confidant, she provides entertainment, fun and education all in one beautiful, anonymous package and then she went ahead to betray me, in the worst way possible

In my mind I seek solace, in my heart I search for refuge  Not from where I came from, not in where am going forth For in that strange land, in that beckoning realm,  Welcome is as uncertain as finding a patch of dry earth, in a rainy day. A refugee I am termed politically, an alien thought of amusingly  a burden considered annoyingly, but the state is not a choice the title not a heritage, for it could be anyone, it could be everyone. Atrocities, desolation, chaos a pushing force Peace, serenity, a pulling energy Stuck in the middle I am, Neither wanted at home nor welcomed abroad. So in the recesses of my being I find my own In the center of it all, I meet my doom For whence does my help come from? So long as I feel the sun, as much as the wind blows my way I know I breathe! And in breathe therein life lives and thus hope continues plus out there, a special few remain in whose bosom my heavy head could rest whose bounty is for all