Home Articles The Broken Woman: Submerged By Blossom Obi | @BlossomObi3

The Broken Woman: Submerged By Blossom Obi | @BlossomObi3

by OtownGist
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The ability to float in whatever situations you find yourself, is deposited inside of you. All you’ll ever need is inside of you, just need to look deeper because you’re complete.

Clustered in the shadows of what they deprived us of becoming, stuck in the photocopy of what they are, we struggle to be the reflection of who we are and what we are supposed to be. Yearning for a time where it’ll be just us and our dreams soaring without restrictions, barriers or limits.

Arriving at the bus stop that led to her house, Sharon picked up her phone to place a call; she dialed one of the regular numbers on her call list that was dear to her.

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“is there light” she asked immediately without waiting for the voice at the other end.


“No, not yet” Seyi answered but I’m sure it will be coming pretty soon. “Where are you mummy?”, she asked with concern in her voice.

“I am close by; you’ll see me soon”. Sharon finished, dropping the call and walked in as if she was flaunting her model figure. Maybe some height thieves stoles her share at creating and God in his best way complimented that with a fair complexion, slender and oval face that gave a naturally glowing contoured cheek bones.

She wouldn’t completely fall out of place if she tried modelling and just a year away from her mid-twenties Sharon already had a ward she took care of. You must be thinking she was married or probably had a child early into the years on the contrary, Seyi was friends with Sharon younger sister Lola, that was how they met and Sharon took to liking her that anytime she came by with Lola she always wanted her to stay back.

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As time went by, Seyi became so comfortable with staying back that she now lived there while attending school and other times while on holidays, even her mom had gotten used to the idea, not sure if she was entirely okay with it, but she didn’t say otherwise or maybe she felt she had little or no choice. Since her husband’s passing, the way of life had not been easy and to have someone willing to take care of her daughter with no cost, was a blessing.

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Along with her self-esteem problem, Seyi was timid, shy, naive and in-exposed. Her dark skin tone was quite thick but not unattractive when looked upon, with a matching accent that gave away her nativity when she spoke.

“you were picked from the gutter, do not think for one minute, I gave birth to you” Seyi’s mother had always told her, ganging up with her first son to taunt Seyi, making her feel miserable most time she went to spend time with her family.

Desperately in need of being in her mom’s good graces, Seyi did everything she was told by her mother. She would dress in a fashion fit for mothers and old ladies because it was soothing for her mother and never going out, Seyi had little or no clue what the real world was all about.

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Finally gained admission into tertiary institution Seyi was still wrapped about her mom’s apron. On her matriculation day, Sharon dressed her up, she looked so pretty many of her colleagues didn’t recognize her. Her mother graced the occasion, on seeing Seyi frowned greatly doing nothing else and with her handkerchief, she wiped the painstaking makeup Shola had applied Shola had helped her apply.

“if you don’t want me to disown you, don’t ever in your life dress like this” she yelled as everyone who stood close to them for the occasion stared at Seyi wondering what was so off in her dressing that would require that kind of outburst. A lot of them just concluded probably the lady was her aunt who didn’t want her progress.

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Searching desperately for acceptance Seyi took to her mom’s dream profession, even though her heart searched and yearned for so much more she was submerged with the feeling that she was never good enough and needed to act in some kind of way constantly to gain acceptance.

Caged in her own body she never felt more alone in her life that the first guy that showed some form of affection by buying her ice-cream, in a bid to ask her out, she felt he must really love her.

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Caught up with the feeling of irrelevance we are stuck in the approval of what we should be, ignoring who we are and the fire that ignites us burning fierce is put in our aid of sorting after the actual “irrelevance” which was never us neither was it in us.

Blossom Obi writes from Owerri, Imo State. For comments and responses, reach her via obiblossom8@gmail.com or Twitter/Instagram: @BlossomObi3

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