Dear Diary,
Last night, my cousin and I decided to try something new—attending a poetry night in the heart of the city. We have heard whispers of these enchanting evenings filled with rhythmic words and soulful performances, and we were both eager to experience it firsthand.
As we walked into the dimly lit café, the air was buzzing with excitement. The cozy ambiance, with its mismatched chairs and warm lighting, instantly made us feel at home. A small stage was set up in the corner, adorned with fairy lights that cast a soft glow on the performers yet to come.
We found a cozy nook to sit, our excitement growing with every passing moment. The room gradually filled with an eclectic crowd of poetry enthusiasts, all wearing smiles. The energy was lit.
The host took the stage, greeting everyone with a magnetic charm. The first performer was introduced, and as they began to recite their verses, the room fell into a hushed reverence. Each word seemed to weave a spell, capturing our thoughts and emotions. I loved it.
As the night progressed, we were treated to an array of emotions. Poems about love, loss, dreams, and the simple joys of life resonated with us on a deep level. Some performances were heart-wrenching, while others had us in fits of laughter.
And then came the open mic session, where anyone could step up and share their own words. My cousin, much to my surprise, leaned over and whispered, "I'm going to give it a try." I watched with a mix of pride and nervousness as she took the stage. Her voice quivered at first, but as she spoke her first lines, confidence took over. Her poem, a beautiful ode to her journey of self-discovery, left the audience in awe.
As the night drew to a close, we left the café with hearts full of peace. The experience was actually more magical than we imagined. Walking back, we kept discussing our favorite moments and the emotions we felt. It was a bonding experience like no other.
Arriving home, I found so many text messages on my phone from Sara, because I left my phone behind. It appeared that she was trying to call too. Quite several times. Anyway, it was too late to return her calls so I decided to do it in the morning. Sara can be funny at times— she could have been trying to reach me just to tell me she missed me and that's all.
I love it here though!
Toodles
Iyaloo
YOU ARE READING
The Unspoken Diary of a Namibian Girl
ContoThe Unspoken Diary of a Namibian Girl" entails a captivating narrative that delves into the life of a young 23-year-old university student, Iyaloo Martins. The pages of the diary uncover her personal journey, the hidden layers of her existence, shed...