Friday, 17 February 2017


When I was ten, every single night I would tuck myself into my beddings and say a nervous prayer. I was afraid. I was afraid of the dark and that the angels looking over me would perhaps choose to betray me. I was afraid of the corners of my bed. I never got a choice on my dream preference. I was afraid of the possible nightmares that whoever was responsible playing them in my head would choose to. I was afraid of imaginary fingers tickling my feet, the monsters under my bed, coats on hangers that would appear like
creepy serial killers in the dark and even more seriously, alien abduction. I was afraid of everything. But then, I came to understand that I was just afraid of my own imagination. I was afraid of my own self!

Now, I am all grown. I learnt that fear is within one's self, and imaginations. If our imaginations are channelled towards fear, they will become our greatest weakness spots. My childhood taught me something. Fear doesn't exist. It's just a mere mirage. But that doesn't explain me being up at 2 am typing this. I miss being a boy-baby, who'd still fall asleep easily, even in his worst fear. Grown and fearless, sleep became an enemy. Perhaps fear is good after all. Just a little bit of it. Now I need to sleep. 

Drew Poetry
~Andy Mwalasha

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