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I am Black

I need no one to remind me

I am an African woman

I have firm breasts and thick skin

I believe there is a God

I try not to be an hypocrite

I believed my parents loved me

I coin that in past tense for new disbelief

The choice the world chose

The one I regretted.

Hate met me at puberty
My tears in drought, ended longevity

I only wanted what I believed

Love, care, and attention


Not the treatment the doctor reluctantly gave

But that traced to interaction of even animals

To think my 16th birthday meant no more school

A life of isolation

I could not run far from melancholia

Hate my sleeping tongue, Mama

I never meant to be an apology.

I fought the cold hands of Give Up
I chose to mix up with children around me

I did not imagine I were a butt or clown

In pain did I attempt communicating

A struggling of engaging sign language

The laughter they issued, my eyes soaked

They walked away

They called me dumb

So I asked myself

Does dumb make me less a black woman?

I chose to answer yea.

                   ©  OKOCHA OBED



My name is Okocha Obed, you can call me Obeezy. I love to display aesthetics through my ink—I must say writing is my small world. I consider myself a deep writer; I say I am deep because I have discovered that part about myself, even, my fabulous audience share same view. I believe in connecting to all kind of persons as there is always something to learn from everyone. I see myself as an actor; to stay on the stage, I need to think ink. The voice is a reflection of myself and my conscience. I always felt I could be like superman while growing up. It was pretty ridiculous so all I did was dream of being a soldier. It was abortive. So I created a world where I could keep talking about the ills in my community but with other flavours to show I am growing into completeness. keep reading.

2 thoughts on “SLEEPING SUGAR

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