"Do not get tired of doing good, for in due time...."
I perused the picture on the web for the umpteenth time. As if the more I looked at it, my memory might be jostled to recollection. That was not happening. Now I had been thrust into a mental quagmire. I was bordering on the verge of confusion. But what the picture could not do, the name beside it did. Suddenly it all came back to me. At least some of it did...
I used to have a love-hate relationship with Social Media. The constant banter in my head went something like this; 'to have or not to have'. 'To have and to hold or to hold and not have at least until you really have without holding'. If you just got confused with that statement, then be rest assured you were not alone. So did I! Those voices got somewhat settled, after a Social Media and Show business Program/Class I had taken, clamped down on the absolute necessity of a media presence in my profession. But before all that got to my mind, here is what got to my heart and changed it.
A young man had contacted me on Social Media from Europe. A Scandinavian country to be near exact. He was a thriving Business man, with visions of even greater grandeur. Well I knew I was not some magazine's pin up girl for the month, so why and how did he find me? By my name of course, how else did you think? Though I had often gotten the suggestion to change my name to a stage or screen moniker, I knew I would not. The second reason being that there was a story behind and connected to the name Chioma Onwudiwe. There was an avalanche of adventures, miracles and accompaniment that were attached to that name. Therefore 'we' did well to let them all (name, miracles and drama included) keep riding together. The first main reason? Well I will keep that to myself for now.
Well the hot-shot European Business man reminded me that I had visited his war-torn town with a small group for a humanitarian/mission trip. I had paid to stay for an extra third week. That overlapping week, found me in yet another city. This was where this young man and his family had met me. Towards the end, we probably exchanged mailing addresses. Before I arrived in that town, I had just come through a very denigrating and frustrating incident, and I was feeling a tad bit overwhelmed and mentally assaulted. This was the scenario I found myself, not knowing what would come of it. But I was not here for myself and my hosts were glad I came.
These people, embraced me with such love and appreciation. They acted as if they had received a supernatural cue to handle me with the utmost care. That reception gave me a second wind. So much so that when I embarked on one of the worst bus trips of my life in their town, I rolled out of that bus gleefully like I was in a theme park. The bus was packed and lopsided. It was either that or my center of gravity shifted to my right side alone. The pot-holes on the street, seemed to enjoy bouncing the bus up and down every two minutes. There was enough dust fumes in the air, that I could feel my lungs requesting a 'leave of absence'. I begged my lungs to hold on just a little longer. But my hostess/chaperone was once again unmoved. She held onto me, which prevented me from lurching forward to my demise every now and then. You probably remember her from the 'Chioma and Jill' went up the hill to fetch a pail and one-half of water incident!
So in all my exhaustion and possible blunder, they found strength enough and the resolve to attempt to find me some day. So now that he found me, he was immensely excited that I was in show business. He calls me a Super Star! What a blessed child. 'Calling those things that be not yet, as though they already were'. He said he was glad he found me and that I had his 100 percent support in whatever way I would need it. He said he remembered hearing me sing. I cringed at that statement. Did I really sing a song in a desolate, war-torn and ramshackled village. As people depleted of basic resources looked on. That I don't remember. But here was one of them (a native), a resurfaced witness and he did not seem offended by my impromptu choral arrangement. I un-cringed and exhaled.
Before I signed off with him, I just had one question. Did he retain anything we the group had taught him?? Yes and no said he. For the part that was no, I vowed to haunt him. He said he knew I would say that.
Then he got me thinking. Thinking of orphans in another town, another country, another region. Shouting through the window of our make-shift dormitory room. Demanding that I come out and talk to them. I could not, there was a set time for that and I had to abide by the rules. Then I thought of the kids bused in from the shelter in the East South Central Region of the United States to hear me. I thought of them grabbing my hands on that stage. Asking, sometimes pleading,for me not to forget about them. I have not. Someday like that precious guy, I hope they too could find me or me them.
I would love to thank them (the fore-mentioned people). Thank them immensely, for helping me step up to myself. Thank them, for believing I was more than I appeared then. I know they will find me though. On the screen, on the stage, on paperbacks and hardcovers, and/or in concert.
Settled!!!
