ResHperience
For me, writing is not just a craft but a communion: with readers, with questions that resist easy answers, and with the pulse of language itself. Every piece is an attempt to give voice to what lingers just beyond words.
From personal reflections to cultural commentary, these pieces carry the threads of my journey as a writer and the conversations I’m grateful to be part of.
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“... It is yet another weekend where your mother lacks things to do with other women her age and wants to come plant herself in your space in the name of visiting. Our space really, but she does not know that. She can never know that... ”
" ..They tell me that the fat I am running away from has been in our family for generations. Haven’t I seen the way their bums fill out the seats, the weight of their bodies threatening to sink them into the ground? Whether I liked it or not, it was how we were made and I happened to have landed in this family where fatness was our portion..."
"... Two of my walls are lined with shelves. There is an alternating order which I love. A doll, then a plant. During my playtime, I make the dolls water and tender for the plants. They are thriving and my mates ask what the secret is because their plarenting has been cases of their plants dying. I tell them happiness. They never believe me..."
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