OMO-GET-INSIDE

 Hello African siblings.

Yes! Siblings because we all lived the same lives, had the same parents and grew up in the same house just a few thousand miles apart.

You get it. 

Well.. Some of us at least.. Let's narrow it down. 

Hello fellow OMO-GET-INSIDES. 

I am one of you.. And this is kinda crazy.. 

Strict parents.. Locked doors.. Few places you could physically go to... Restricted from doing literally anything that could remotely make you happy..

Because EVERYTHING YOU NEED IS INSIDE THE HOUSE. 

That was my life. Never attended school parties (even though I'd teach them the presentation/performance), never allowed to join a society in church, never allowed to visit friends or have anyone over.. Never allowed to explore anything other than the basic necessities of life. 

And that was enough.. 

Even now sometimes it still is. Settling. Convincing myself that I don't need to do more because this was fine. That I didn't deserve more because I got exactly what was needed. 

• My singing was considered noise.
•  My acting was entertaining as long as it stayed inside. 

The answer to everything was NO. STAY INSIDE. 

You recognize that feeling?

Of sitting by the window and looking out at other kids play. Running back to the room at the sound of footsteps. Listening to my classmates talk about the kind of day they had 'outside' while i gave small smiles to hide my longing. 

And that was EXACTLY what I did. 

HIDE.

STAY INSIDE. 

I was not a rebellious child, oh no..

The people pleasing side of me has its roots deep as far as my early childhood years. 

When I wanted their approval so much I would even pretend to sleep once I'm told to. I'd never argue. I'd suppresa desirea. Cry in silence. Never spoke up. Always the good girl. 

And little did I know, that I was dying slowly. 

As I got older, it didn't change. I had gotten used to staying inside. To staying quiet. To hiding. And it became one with me. I loved it.

It was comfortable. 

I got used to looking out the window and seeing people living lives, climbing ladders, achieving dreams, while I longed. I craved. 

But I hid. 

This omo-get-inside was so used to being locked in that even when the door was flung wide open, I stayed in. 

While many rushed out through the opened door and spread their wings, 

I stayed in because outside was scary.. Unpredictable. Loud. I'm not supposed to be outside. What if they see me? 

Because I am afraid.

Afraid that I'm about to go meet the very things I was being protected from. 

But was it protection? 

Afraid of the unfamiliarity of the challenges that are outside.

Afraid because almost everything I was and had withered in the dark. 

When I fought for my life. 

I'm hiding... I'm staying inside.. Because outside is scary.. Outside is freedom.. Outside is expression.. Outside is achieving my dreams.. 

What do I know about that? 

But..

They told me to stay inside.. And now this is all I know.. 

Slowly I moved closer to the door. First my hands. Then my torso. But my legs are still in. 

They were chained to the ground by the weight of all the times I was told to be quiet. That I wasn't enough. That I had to stay back. 

And NOW the door isn't the only thing standing between me and the life I want. 

It's the voices.. 

And when I turned around to look at the one whose hands held the chains.. It was no longer them. 

It was ME.