"The fierce roaring of a lion is a voice
The gleeful chirping of birds their noise
But non so shattering and impacting a cry
Than that of injustice as years go by"
Culled from the poem 'THE VOICE' by Chioma Onwudiwe/2013
EUROPE (Some time ago): ... I was taken aback by the young woman's sudden and ludicrous shriek. All I had asked her was the price of the gold bracelets. Now her annoyingly shrill voice was going up about 10 decibels per second. Was she hallucinating? She just said I had come back to bother her again. I had never seen her before in my life. And I barely had been in the store ten minutes. Above all, I was in an excellent mood. Daddy was here in the same city where I was in Medical School. He was in a conference and I was shopping. For a girl who had just escaped a lifetime of trauma and wicked drama, life was good. Now here I was being yelled at and I was not even sure why. My utterance of her native language was articulate, so it was definitely not a case of miscommunication. I knew there could not have been a handful of people that looked like me in that store at that moment. But still the lady would not calm her 'crazies' down.
As I opened my mouth to tell her just that, I felt two strong pair of hands at both sides of me. They whispered in my ear to quietly step back without making a sound or looking back. Behind me and the boutique counter was a wall to an untrained eye or to any eye for that matter. Now the wall became a rickety, stinking collapsible steel-door elevator. And down went the three of us about eight floors below ground level. As I looked around what appeared to be a desolate and abandoned basement, my heart sank. In yet another episode of my young life, eternity flashed before my eyes. I had only one thought at that very moment though. Will my mortal father ever recover my body or better still find out what happened to me?...
My FATHER Eternal; I am totally, entirely, wholly, thoroughly, fully, completely, absolutely, utterly, altogether, perfectly, unconditionally and downright grateful to YOU! As I think of the aforementioned episode and what YOU did in less than 30 minutes, my sobs of refreshed awe refuses to subside. So many close calls and here I still am. It could not have been a bunch of molecules in a disturbed and explosive state deciding my fate. I know how it has been and I know it is incomprehensible that I should still be alive and more so in my right mind.
My very existence right now is a proof that miracles do exist. I should have been the most hopeless mindless, aimless, messed-up and jacked-up crack head there ever was. I should have been hooked up on anything that hooks. That is assuming I was not dead. A fraction of all the stuff I went through should have made me a poster child for lunacy. But I ended up on the other side of the spectrum. Thanks to YOU!
My father Mortal: (late) Dr. F.C. Onwudiwe. I am so proud you were my daddy. Could not have had it any other way and I honor you. Just because you are not here physically, does not mean you were not wholly involved in every turn my life took. I remember our last physical moments together, as you read to me and prayed for me. And as I got ready to board that plane. I took one long look at you, and something tugged at my heart. A fleeting thought crossed my mind that it may be the last time I would see you. But I fought that thought with everything in me.
You had been concerned about me living in a hard city like New York. So after a series of 'quiet times' and inquiries. You asked me to checkout a lead. It came in form of a folded slip of paper. It was the address of a (former) theater on Broadway...
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!!!
Preparing for Daddy's day.
