Death of my only brother, a pain that altered the way I reasoned forever.
Medical school of so much hard work that no one ever spelt out for me.
Some mornings of pure tiredness and evenings of sullen eyes and tender muscles.
Competitions from colleagues who feel I'm a threat to their success or that i remind them of how they slack. Especially the male colleagues who constantly feel demasculinized by one's efforts.
Then the men of my life with their dramas,
Love, break-ups, make-ups, love again, then the cycle rotates.
Loving men who will not love fully in return.
Loving men who my parents will not approve because of their tribe.
Men loving me because they sense the greatness ahead.
Some days the body is wrecked from much pressure, the allergies attack, the flower of me fades a little, and then the lady at the mirror who stares at me is sickly and very tired. Yet, yet I stand tall
I dust myself up, and whisper to her at the mirror.
You are great
You are strong, you will be fine, move on, walk straight, sway your hips, fling your hair, because you deserve all happiness. The lady at the mirror smiles at me and moves on.
She's Bold
She's Smart
She's Beautiful
She's Miss Kenny!
