“DIE ALL, DIE MERRILLY……”
Today, the society murdered another brighten soul. The system and perfectionistic picture join in the entire death conspiracy.
Wednesday, 22nd of April’s afternoon saw me at one of my favourite brothers’ place. During our course of discussion, he told me that one of my Facebook friends – a female – died. Or properly, she committed suicide. I tried make joke out of it that, didn’t she read my works and some other writers’ stuff? My brother (Coy Emerald on Facebook) stunned me that she was a writer herself. That got me serious and I was like, give her username. It turned out that she was one poetess I used to read very well, well…..until last year.
Her username name is Adeleke Rachel Tioluwani.
Coy Emerald went on to read some of her stuffs to the hearing of us: one Alfa, another brother and myself, and I could not but realised that this girl was a fighter. She tried fight to the end, she felt, just like any other person and she was expressing. But she was discussing with insensitive audience which was applauding her for literary prowess.
Right at the spot we turned it to a debate as to where/to whom the blame belong. It is gathered she was another product of a broken home; her father lives abroad and her mother in Nigeria. It could not be gathered how many siblings she had, direct and or step but she actually had a good number of “fans-friends” and male admirers. Typical of us, budding Facebook writers-cum-celebrities.
Meanwhile, she was telling her stories in poetry. Sad, emotional and mental traumatised she was but we thought she was merely doing poetry.
I am reminded of a post: “the media would make you become jealous of someone you should pity.” Take time to browse her timeline and pictures, she appears okay. She has elements of opulence. She kept low-cut with a parting, she seemed to enjoy herself in Jeans; straight, small and comfortable.
Dearest Rachel, I am no judge of you as I have great memories and experience that Knowledge is a depressing teacher and Pen is both traumatic and prophetic. Someone was trying to blame it all on your “foolery” but we all feel differently thus react differently to different situations. You thought suicide was the best way to end it all and you did. I hope you find rest in it. I hope you find tranquility in what you did
Tioluwani, I must laud you. I am forced to. Some of us are not so bold.
Again, I say there’s no sincere sympathy online. They all click like buttons on your words, they appraise you to the high heavens, but why must you place happiness on them? These people are 100000000000000000% liars. They just want to see perfection and some are so obsessed with desires to keep up the perfectionistic pictures that they go extra miles. Some go into debts, some into borrowing (clothes and other accessories). I used to have a female neighbour here sometimes last year who would go to some other people’s houses and take pictures, just to keep dazzling her social media friends.
Fake. Fake people, fake messages, fake stuff, fake love they all display. Even the most ugly pictures, especially females’ get more like and comments. They (males) would be shouting “you beautiful”, “you are dazzling”, “you are an angel””you dope”, “cute you”, “you are looking good”, shabrksbfwwndmlcbslrb…….
Two female friends have made me their Facebook accounts “Manager” once, I was ashamed of myself as I was reading stupid messages from males that keep on coming every day. Married and single alike.
I lay no blame anywhere, but I – just like the majority of us – wish that you had spoken to some people around. I know people are ready to listen. Physical, reliable, mentally-sound and experienced people ni ooo. Didn’t you give them chances? Did you shut the door against infiltration of people?
Rachel, believe me when I say I have been there before. My own bloods had called me mad. I have been tore to shreds by the very people I call friends and associates. They have called me wack and all sort of derogatory adjectives, just because I keep up with the pen. These same people would come seek solutions when entangled in some literary and intellectual topics.
Someone drawn my attention to my reply to one of your poem on Apr 27, 2019 thus:
Being Solomon, reeling out songs makes them Psalms.
Being Lamentations, you become Jeremiah.
Your laments Jeremiad.
But you are a daughter of Eve; you bag both Solomoness and Jeremiahian.
What enflow ur eyes water so?
What turns u to a weeping goddes, whose cries unstable the world?
Whys are you a disseminative gnome (egbere)?
Split it, oh fragile vessel!
We exchanged some replies before YOU stopped replying. I couldn’t have known what you were up to. I still remember the poem. It was a hit to me then…
Okay.
I am Solomon
And I’ve brought my own songs to your ears
But mines are Lamentations
Those I’ve always kept away like hallucinations
Maybe, I have tried too many times
To be not pen who writes as victim,
One that always deploy sadness as routine
Maybe, this girl has tried too many times
To be not one always appearing saddened
To be not one always writing as a victim
Please, scream to my ears
That I have tried enough
That I have fought enough
That I have feigned strong too long
That I have feigned happy too much
Of course, this is not a poem
But words as tears from a broken hard girl
From one whose heart is filled with tears that never dry
Tears that are never cried and songs that are never sung
Of course, this is not a poem
But scars from a ripped young girl
These words are the marks of arrows that have pierced a million times
They are tears of a broken hard girl
I know you will read them
So, this will be as shortly long as it can flow
Depression has visited me
It brought suicide with it
But I found my tongue and sucked its clit
I watched suicide gets horny at my film
Now, I think I have feigned too strong and happy enough
Now, I think I have kept too many tears that are never cried
And too many songs that are never sung
I have questioned life and it brought suicide
But I found suicide as the angel in disguise
Who has come with hands to be fine
With piercing fingers, claws that bewitch
Suicide is a witch with finesse
Reason I died so many times in distress
Yet, lost no life
I have questioned life and it brought hardship
It displayed to me how I’m so fortunate
To live and be groomed with architects of misfortunes—
Hands that will never add to you and will never let you go to grow
Life said this twenty year old is too old to have a minute sweetness
All along, it keeps bringing sweet mess
So, today as I write in tears
This is not a poem but songs of Solomon’s daughter
Lamentations that come as hallucinations
Scream into my ears
That I have had enough
Let me hear
That I haven’t heard enough
Tell me strength that fails me is just being considerate
That pretense that now left is just being considerate
That I have had too much
Scream into my ears
And tell me I’m not gonna be fine anymore
Shout to my heart
That this fighting is enough
Please, tell me to break down
And never rise again
That my fate in faith has played enough
Tell me to break down
And never rise again
For even these legs are tired of strength that ain’t true
My little body has gotten fed up of scaling through
Scream into my ears
And tell me I’ve had enough
Scream into my ears
And tell me I’ve not heard enough
# Richie
(c) Jimson Jaat Taofik, alias Pen Priest is a Student of Ancient and Modern Histories, Trained Journalist, Author, Blogger, Litterateur, Printrovert, Editor and Bibliophile.
Jaat Writes From Kwara State, Nigeria.
Facebook: Jimoh Taofik Adekunle
Twitter: @jimsonjaat01
Gmail: deskofinsanity96@gmail.com
Phone: 08144510532
April 22, 2020
