Esther Nnaemeka
Writing is personal. It only becomes public when the readers understand in depth what the message being passed across entails. That is my ultimate dream as a writer.
Member Since: 1 year ago
Layers of Marriage
Marriage does things to women. It strips them of their formidable fabrics of independence, and half-covers them with a lace-like material, full of vulnerability, beaded with dependence. It suits them for a while, they are the envy of some, the paragon of perfection to others. Then a tear comes, it touches the flesh, a crack, and then blood. It spills. They need to soak it up. With thicker cloths, with bandages. They realize they needed more shields, more resilience than they ever needed to sur...
The Typical Man
#NircleStories The typical man is everywhere around us. He wears a checkered blue shirt with black palazzo pants (he insists they be called trousers though) and a black belt whose skin is almost completely peeled off. With him is the ever worthy and trusted sack or pako bag, also competing with the black belt to see which will fade off the slowest. His clay colored hair is as a result of all the red dust the wind blows up which he gets caught in every single day as he walks the road to school a...
I will sit still, for now
#poetry I will sit still, for now The momentum is limping My courage seems to have left town I will chew my lips and let them think they are winning I will sit still still My fingers will itch but I will not move They will wait for a response from the mill Some will press me for it, some will shove I will sit still, and kneel The back of my legs tightly tucked underneath my bottom Blissful images will surface on my mind which I will not peel When it ravages me I know some will treat me like ...
Bloody tongue [Part 1]
#NircleStories Time inhaled and exhaled and let you out in one breath. But that breath was toxic, it was acidic, it was heavy. There were times when I wanted to look at you, when I really wanted to see you, but there was a fog clouding my eyes. It pressed heavily on me and I couldn't get it out. I tried, tried, I honestly did try my best but it was all in vain. I just couldn't see you, I just couldn't hear your name. You had lost your eyes, your ears, your mouth; you had lost yourself. Your s...
Rinsed out
"Mami, they said you can slow down if you are struggling". She literally trembled when I said those words. My mother was a strong woman. A traditional woman. The kind of woman who would keep her marriage till the end for the sake of her children. The kind that would kill her husband a thousand times in her head and still serve him pounded yam and his favourite soup every night. She knew what it meant to struggle quite well. What she didn't know how to do was slow down. She turned slowly, as thou...
