Hate

I hate that I saw abuse for the first time when I was five years old

I hate that I needed to see the people I love, being hurt

I hate that I never had the money, or resources or power to help us leave

I hate men

Because they are arrogant and abusive

I hate that I still cry about the pain you caused us

            After you’ve been dead for four years

I hate that I build walls: because I only trust myself.

I hate that your actions left scars so deep

It cannot be healed.

I hate feeling like this.

Escape

We all leave for different reasons: we leave for a better future. For a holiday.  For revenge.  For freedom. For better opportunities.  We leave to be inspired. But if you have nothing, and nobody left – is it still leaving?

Whether leaving involves a car, a bus, a train or a plane or something as simple as a resignation – there comes that moment that you walk alone.  Through the gate at the airport.  Climbing on the bus or through the front door of your employer. 

Nobody can do for you or help you with.  You do that alone – that decision was yours.

Alone means taking responsibility for your life, your actions and your future. Even though we all look back onto certain decisions in our earlier life while shaking our heads, thinking “What the hell?!”. I believe we do the best with what we have: we decide and risk and jump with the information we have at that point.  The funds we have at that point and the faith we have at that point.

Leaving everything you know behind is hard.  There’s a saying: “Life starts where your comfort zone ends”. Noble thought, but horribly scary if that’s you leaving it all behind.

We grow accustomed to our paths: the colleagues at work, the way your car rumbles and the conversations your friends have.  That’s life.  But all of that is temporary.  It breaks, it fights and it ends.  Much like life. 

Escaping your world, means to leave all you know today and yesterday and for as long as you can remember behind.  But if you have nothing: no family to cheer, friends to care, a job to pitch up for or a cat to feed – I think its harder.

You’re that anonymous one- the one who just walked out. Not having anything certainly makes the packing easier, but emotions and memories aren’t bottled. They follow us everywhere: they remind us who we are, what we’ve faced and what makes us happy.  Its not so easy escaping them.

Dont lose that, escape from that or run away from yourself – you are you for a reason: face it, enjoy it and love that you get to create a new chapter in the book of You.

Someday you’ll find someone to tell your story to.

Freedom

I was reading an article online about refugees most prized possessions.  It ranges from a headscarf which was a gift, a horse, an old tea set symbolising the social interaction and culture that comes with this tradition and books.

I’ve never had this decision. 

I guess most people haven’t.  I looked around my house that evening: my graduation pictures with my parents, the computer I saved up for; for over two years, the cool cushions that was a Christmas gift from my sister and I couldn’t decide on one thing to take.  I decided that I would take my stuffed dog, not very practical but great emotional importance.

I live in peace.

I don’t need to worry about safety.

About my next meal.  

About clothes.

I’m fortunate.  Very fortunate.  I can pray to whoever I want and not be prosecuted for my faith.  I can surround myself with human beings, whether they are pink or green and not be told otherwise.  I get to go to work every day. 

Being a refugee means giving up all of the physical representations of your life and fleeing. To be safe, to live.  Living in a tent, relying on aid organisation to provide you with basic items: maize meal, clothes, blankets, soap.  All things we take for granted.  That is, if you’re lucky enough to make it into a refugee camp.  You surrender yourself as a non-person, as the article called it.  No home, no place to go and a very bleak future.

My home is the place I feel safe and comfortable and after a rough day – the only place I want to be.  It’s filled with things I love and appreciate.  I have enough food in my fridge.

I guess I’m free.