THE KENDER BRAND

I walked into the hall with shaky legs. I hated attention and I was getting a double dose of it. My sequins dress drew more attention to me than the well sculpted face sitting pretty on my neck.  I smiled nervously at every face that turned towards me while glancing quickly through the empty seats to pick a perfect spot. Then I heard his voice and my heart raced a thousand times over which I still wonder why.  6.5ft tall from my rough estimations, dark, well groomed and obviously that smile I always longed for. His shirt fitted perfectly making every cut and shape of his biceps evident. I feared he could hear the whispers of my heart from where he sat. It seemed our hearts where so close and I could hear him. He laughed heartily to random jokes told at a wedding table either about the couple or wedding guests. I couldn't stop my mind from the many imaginations it erotically engaged in. Who would have thought that ''Love at first sight'' found its way right

I recently watched a video, which by the way inspired this post. I watched over and over again with rapt attention and for every time I listened to that woman, it dawned on me that our problem as women lies just within us.  My Mama once told me that no man can watch my back the way a woman would. My Mama always believed that we women should stand for each other. I was still very young then so it didn't really sink.  I've grown up watching woman tear each other down. Sometimes not necessarily because of men or anything serious but because of some lame unhealthy competition laced with envy. For the many times I dared to leave my comfort zone and become better at making the world a better place,  I received the most commendation from the men.  A lady would rather criticize than encourage just to make sure you ain't better than her.  Why all these fights, silent bickering and jealousy draped in kindness?   The lady seated next to you isn't your competition and

                                                               EPISODE 4 A soft thump in the kitchen caught Purple's attention as she dropped her bags down beneath the dinning table and pulled her shoes. She looked so exhausted and still in shock hence Cara was the least of her problems. The little brown fluffy thing was already used to Purple and her moods sometimes. She knew it was a good day when Purple came straight to pick her and give her some massage and a bad day when she was totally neglected.  After what seemed like a quick shower, Purple stepped out of the bathroom thinking if she really washed well or not. It seemed she hadn't washed well as soap remnants was still glued to her fingers and hand.  She headed straight for the dinning table. Her thick kinky hair loosely captured in a lopsided bun and beneath her big orange sweat shirt she wore a faded blue shorts. Purple , picking up her work bag caught the sight of the plate on the table.  ''I shou

Shackles binding the feet and not neglecting the scars on the wrist which seemingly fades with time. The mind keeps racing and plotting plans of escape which never really actualizes.  The body isn't left out in it's stagnant state leaving life to glaringly state the obvious which is a viscous circle of vanity.  Are we actually made to survive, to live or just to exist? Who are these children wearing adult bodies? Who are these kids made to stand strong in decisions instead of playing naked on the street.   They are the 90's babies who adulthood has engulfed. We are bathed in responsibilities and forced to grow up in an environment highly unstable.  Clothed in an ensemble that isn't really the reality and forced to walk in the shoes of the ''adored model''. The struggle has become real and survival is an obvious  quest. How does help come to the revered adult who has failed in mind to brace up to challenges? Independence has come up