If someone asked me how has my life’s journey been so far, I would answer it has been a wonderful life. Yet deep down, I would look at myself from beneath quizzically and ask my self has it? If I pressed myself to answer, I would still admit that it has been a wonderful life, it truly has. There were times when I wondered if I would ever get over the beatings my father gave me without cause.
I was disturbed by them growing up, because here was a man over 6feet tall, beating me with all his might (I watched as he heaved and flogged me, taking all the strength he had to hit me hard, he was a construction worker and very strong, I was around 1o years old when the beatings became much). My mother would not stop him, even though in my mind I willed her to. She didn’t. The beatings would not have been so bad (so I tell myself) if I knew the reasons why I got them.
I was a good child, a studious one. I did not have friends and was obedient to my parents. He had always slapped me when growing up, but the hard flogging began when I passed common entrance for St Andrews High School for Girls (one of the best times of my life in Jamaica, oh the memories). One day I asked my mom, why was he beating me? I had just come in from school and she told me to hurry up and have my bath, eat and go to sleep before he came home. My heart began to race, and I asked her why, what was my offense, she said nothing. Worried and afraid that evening, I hurriedly went to the bathroom and began to soap up, only to have him come in and beat me on my wet skin, de panty line (Jamaicans remember de panty line) popped dung.
Eventually, I found out that this half white girl named Sharon would tell my father that since I began going to the high school I was hanging out with boys. This was not true at all. Boys were never on my mind. He believed her and it was from there he decided to beat me every evening I came home from school, (licks in case perhaps?). The beating stopped when we migrated without him to America, but continued (only once though) when he eventually came up. Believe me when I tell you all that I never resented him for this. He would beat me, I would cry, and in my innocence as a child, my love for him or her (my mother) never wavered, never. The innocence of children protects them always.
If I were to list all the bad things I experienced while traveling along life’s way, I would not stop writing for months. Most of them are here already on the blog however, most especially the famous “wicked Baby Father” that son of a bitch, and he really is a son of a bitch (his mother). The Oxford dictionary should have her picture beside the word “Evil” to show what the word means and the person the word was formed from, or it should be Devil Almighty, or Super Demon. The woman made my life a living hell with her son. I never thought I would get over the trauma of them, and the baby mother (the outside woman), the whole entire bad breed family who nearly gave me a nervous break down. I remember times when I would call my mother, crying, wanting comfort from the bad treatment from these people. I would shake, anything held in my hands would drop. My nerves seemed as if they were fried, I saw a padded room and a straight jacket in my enemies future, prayer was not helping, I felt alone and troubled.
I wished to be a small girl of five again, missing my thumb which I was forced to stop sucking (still miss mi finger) because Jamaican wicked people teased me about going to high school and still sucking finga, so they shamed me into abandoning my best friend, my comforter, my thumb. One day mi aguh record a song dedicated to mi thumb. I sucked my thumb so much that the thumb was white like chalk and wrinkled like prunes, it was tired and haggard looking, but it never denied me comfort.
I have never gone through any tradgedy, and for that I am thankful. Some people have some very bad stories, so sad. Human beings have been my biggest disappointments, and the hurt and pain for me always comes from betrayal. in fact, during a recent initiation, Obatala took possession of a priestess and spoke to me through the woman. The woman (the medium) was dressed in a pristine white cloth wrapped around her breast very long breasts, she was a woman who seemed as if she had nursed quite o lot of children, this added to her beauty.
She had low hair with the hair in the front shaved like Buddhist monks, she was rail thin and extremely black which showed up her beauty, for I had never seen black skin like hers like that, it was as if God had painted her himself and had chosen her complexion to reflect his talent of coloring, she was the walking advertisement of the saying “Black is Beautiful” and so it is. She had gnarly fingers which told the tale of a hard worker, her hands looked strong for such a thin woman. She was possessed and so her eyes were glazed as she seemed as if she was not there, and indeed she was not, as if she was unreachable, as if she the priestess had been removed and someone else was looking at us through her, someone not of this world. It was Obatala, mi love him ei si!
I knew I was in the presence of the great Obatala. The message was that I wrote betrayal from heaven, meaning that betrayal was apart of my destiny because I had written it in my contract before I came here to live. Tears sprung to my eyes, embarrassing me, because we do not cry in any traditional house and I know that. But this was something I knew and to hear the great Obatala tell me himself was painful. Painful because I loved people and wanted them to love me in return, but have always been disappointed by them. I wanted it to change. Because of all that I have been through in life, I had gathered compassion for anyone who suffered. I helped all who needed me whether they asked or not, most times I would not even allow people to ask me, because I realized that most often pride was something many people held on to, no matter the poverty, no matter the struggle.
When my mother threw me out, I walked around (after I had gotten my own place) and took in anyone who needed a home. I would give them my bed and sleep on the floor, there have been many people who I would take in, and the wicked baby father once told his evil mother that he was annoyed that I was always taking in people and giving away food. But today, I have gotten to the point where no one is ever allowed to spend a single night ever again in my house. I did it last December 2015, by assisting someone, and she bit me so hard, I still have not healed as yet. Never again! I did tell her she would betray me, she swore to almighty God that she would not… but my words came to pass.
The reason for this post is to share with you a reckoning I had with my self recently. I was in Surulere, a town in Lagos, at a tyre shop changing two of truck my tyres. Nigerians love money more dan God, and most often will take advantage of anyone in distress. I am not talking bad about them, I am telling the truth. Oladayo who was with me, bargained with them about the price. He, being Nigerian, knows how to haggle with them. They were hard, (they had peeped into the car and saw my daughter and myself and had drawn their own conclusions, de big woman inna de back (dat ah me) ah she have de money) and would not relent. Eventually they came down just a little and they began the work. Oladayo came to me and said “Empress, should we give them the tyres?” I immediately snapped “No!” So dark with anger at the nerve of leaving my tyres with these people who (in my eyes at the moment) were thieves. The snap was harsh and Oladayo stepped back from the car. He knew the snap was not for him, but he also knew that I was extremely giving (mi too kind) and was surprised by my reaction and the resentment which showed on my face. My daughter looked at me. She knew that I was fed up with people.
My being in Nigeria so long was me fighting this thief who had stolen my properties, my dream for my school and who had plotted with people I introduced him to, to ruin my enemy any way they could. This year was the tip of the iceberg for me, and I was embarrassed within myself for letting an illiterate fool me because I trusted him naively like a child. I relaxed and ignored all the warnings given to me by spirits and had now or was now becoming bitter because of all that I was going through. Once I cried to a Babalawo while we sat together and asked him why did God allow this to happen to me. He laughed and looked at me as if saying “Are you serious?” but instead he asked “Don’t you know?” He continued to say, “It is your destiny to go through these things or else how can you do your work as a teacher? If you don’t have experience, how can you assist people in their life choices, how can you lead them to their correct path, or tell them that what they have gone through, they are not alone?” I did not want to hear that because what it translated to me is that there was more to come, and I wondered if I could take another betrayal, another set of hurt and pain, how could I deal with anymore?
Oladayo came back into the car after some minutes, and said “Empress, you shouldn’t allow what you have experienced to change the naturally sweet and loving person you are.” My daughter chimed in and said “Yes mommy, don’t allow what people have done to you to distort how you see or treat everyone. Don’t let wicked people change you.” These two young people took turns and softly lectured me into finding Obara again and release all the bitterness and resentment that had been building up. As they spoke, I listened, but I also was rejoicing in my heart that I was in the presence of my elders. These two young physical beings in front of me were my elders, my teachers, my guardians. They were not ordinary and they sought to deliver me from myself. I ended up leaving one of the tyres, still trying to hold onto some of the resentment. When I got home, washed my face and slipped into my bed, I laid there remembering their words… And I cried.
I cried because they were correct. I cried because I realize how blessed I was to have salvation (not in the Christian sense) within a moment of absurdity on my behalf. They interceded on my behalf and lifted me from the pool of despondence which I sought to drown my self in. How cool was God to use them. It was there within the moment of them bringing me back to myself, that I saw the love of God for me. How many people are blessed enough to have children such as these around them? Awake and conscious, I am truly blessed.
Do not allow how people treat or respond to you in life or on your journey to change who you truly are. Hold on to you, love yourself, live your life for you, as long as you know you are not hurting anyone or your environment. Continue on your journey, complete your mission fulfill your life, live for you and you will live forever. Let go of old haunts, let go of old hurt, once you have life, know that your mission is not complete, seek to fulfill your own life and be of service to your fellow man. Love God and each other, teach from your experiences, be kind to old people, little children and animals. Be kind to each other, but if you are met with reproach, move on, do not let it change you, move on with hope. Continue to pray, pray for me also. I will always pray for you all.
I love you,
Re-reading this post and teared up..:'( you’re so lovely. You poor dear! All those beatings.. all that you’ve been through.. and what you were on the verge of becoming because of it all.. and while writing it you still manage to have your sense of humor.. oh Obara
Oh Fawn, thank you, My sense of humor is what has kept me sane (??) all these years and with all I have gone through my dear. Never let anything stress you out. realize that you are creating your own reality as you walk life’s journey, know that encumbrances will come, they must, the world is chaotic, so expect them, but learn to maneuver around them and focus on your mission, your journey, your service to your fellow beings. Accept love and reward it, teach from your experiences, cuss a bad wud or two sometimes (we have to display a… Read more »
Teach this post have me crying to know and understand some of your experiences…. Is you shaggy sing the song “Strength of a woman” I am extremely proud of you overcoming and finding peace.
Thank you Sue
Next vacation come to Africa,I will host you,enjoy your self my darling.
Oh God, mi start get excited already. Everyday I keep telling hubby I am going to Africa for the last year where no one can find me lol. Africa is just calling me. Thanks so very much for that offer sis. It means a lot coming from you. It’s my birthday month few days before Christmas and you make me feel like today is my birthday, just hearing your offer to me. Thank you, thank you thank you. People nuh offer me so it’s means a lot . Teary-eyed.
Tearyveyed too!(sniffles) lol
God bless you Obara, blessings to all members. It’s just always a pleasure to read your blog no matter how long I am away, as soon as I check in I can always relate to topics you write about. Thanks much for sharing your life experiences, thoughts and advise blessed love sista Obara.
Hi Cher!!!! Long time ooooo, how family and you? Check out our new dream interpretation page with Oladayo
We are doing well thank God. Thanks much for directing me to the dream interpretation page Obara. I have been getting a lot of dreams myself. I am on vacation so I will be catching up on my reading here, bwoy ooh bwoy your writing sweet mi nah lie. I am keeping you and your beautiful family in my thoughts and prayers. Sending you love light and abundant blessing my sister.
Excuse my manners, good morning or good afternoon
Good morning mums! You hit the nail on the head with this one as this is what I try to live by everyday and preach to my family. Being an observer is my thing and in my years of observing I notice the good heart and spirit of the ppl that surround me, including myself. But woe be unto you if you are ever ungrateful or they feel taken advantage of. It is exactly how you described in the above testimony. Just last week since arriving back home from my travels I have seemed to be a bit unbalanced. Adding… Read more »
Omg! I felt your pain cause I went through almost the same thing in my life..my parents never really take me on and I couldn’t get want I wanted from them..my other siblings used to get want they wanted..I trust people alot but I do get hurt along the wat and I used to hate that but someone told me that is all part of my journey..life. .but I learn and experience alot on my journey but it made me stronger and wiser..I have learn to be aware of my surrounding ..I am grateful you are in my life and… Read more »
Big up to every one. Teach thanks for your stories. The common thread is every wey yu guh macka juck yu. I am glad you did not allow yourself to become bitter but instead you have used it to help others along this journey. Cami mi sweetie, big up and respect. Natalie congrats on that promotion.
Whey yuh been little girl??? Prefect MTH whey yuh been??
Morning/evening, Obara! Yu know me lazy…but like a good student to a true teacher ME HAVE FI READ….love you (((muah)))
Muahhhh, Cami!!!! Love you baby girl
Thanks a million Ms. Obara! God is good!!!
Sorry typo. Ms. Obara
Greetings Ms.O’Hara, This was hard to read because it is hard to forgive. I applaud you as you never gave up despite the challenges. What I do realised is that when you let go of all the bad experiences and release yourself from all the hurt you are better able to understand that at the end of it all you came out as the victor. I pressed on and take heed to your words. Today I was promoted. I cried because of the struggles I undergo. The many years I was overlooked! When God is ready to turn your sorrows… Read more »
Obara i greet you with love and light. It took me all day to finish reading this post. I wept for you and I as I often feel the same. Why is this my lot in life?Why do they betray me at all turns in my life? Why am I the only 1 loyal? Why did I sign this contract? Its not an easy road but as I read today and cried I felt a weight lifted in knowing I am not alone. Thank you again my sister
KB, you are not alone
Blessed with this story Obara- My best friend always say dont let dutty people change your goodness because the world have more dutty people than Good.
So true Lincoln
Lola a white woman (I express white because of her being new to our culture and my expressions, my blog. She was enthusiastic at finding us and she made sure she told me so) once emailed me and said how fascinating my blog was, mixed with the patois which was quite unique. She told me she liked the fact that I was myself, true and proud of my culture, yet having a strong command of the queens english. She told me she challenged herself with the patois and loved reading the blog. Yes Lola, I am very transparent here and… Read more »
Obara, I have to admit that I secretly and now openly affirm that I admire your writing style of anecdotes with the patois spin – you write effortlessly. Sometimes I read the shared stories out aloud, just visual my struggles for a moment with the pronunciations of the patois text (I’m certainly sure if you were in my presence you will definitely laugh out loud because i sound hilarious ) but believe you me I do understand it all. Thanks Teachers for all the shares once again.
You are welcome my dear
Like ah me did Mek de whole ah har front teeth dem rotten fi young gal, and man use and refuse har like dog whey people hold wid news paper.Sharon, I will never forget her
I love this story. I pictured you as a little girl in the back of the truck, with arms folded and face puffed up, not wanting to budge. But your daughter and Oladayo brought you back to yourself. The person who helps others regardless of the betrayal you’ve faced. The woman that told lies on you so that your father would deal with you so harshly is a wicked. She’s no different from the step mother you spoke of yesterday. She see you pass your exam and going to one of the better high school and she wanted to stifle… Read more »
Another great share, thanks Obara. I have been disappointed and hurt by few people in my life but 2 people stand out the most the past year contributing towards the biggest share of hurt ( these 2 people dabbled in obeah too, plotting to take from me). All Thanks to Divine, their plans were uprooted and mashed up, their plots were revealed to me but i never confronted them with my findings, I cut communication ties. (A man and lady): the man deceitfully got married to me with the hope of getting to Europe (land of milk and honey) so… Read more »
Lol@ “right twat” you English people are so expressive! I love it, me being a connoisseur of words and an expressionist on all accounts.
Thank you for sharing your experience as always. Blessings!
I must Carpediem, i simply must.Whoever judge are of not importance to me, silly ones they are.
Thank you guys, I had to share this lesson learned. My daught just reminded me that giving the tyre away would have been more than just giving away the tyres, it would have been symbolic of release.
Very timely post….
Wow you are more amazing than I thought