They

The World In Mauve

Based on Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's Purple Hibiscus

Whistling pines on windy days

Sun warmed stone and golden rays
A

zure streaks on aging walls

Quivering lips and harsh footfalls

Each thud a daunting dreary din

A promise to be purged from sin

Scalds and screams

Broken dreams

A home anything but it seems

Towering walls enclosing a fortress of lies

Uncovering the truth of all she was taught to despise

She began to see with clarity

Illusion splintering into reality

From dainty plates with silvery lines

To the bougainvillea's woody vines

All around came helping hands

Teaching her to take a stand

Time rolled by as new loves bloomed

In a tranquil garden, in a shared quaint room 

Frangipani, Allamanda

Pungent scents and red ixora

Hibiscus painted pure magenta

Violet, lilac, mauve, sangria

Heather, rasin, amethyst

A world of dew, lavender mist

. . .

But fate could not bear

These moments so rare

As acid was spewed

And turmoil ensued

Lance-like words could never be unsaid

And pain was spilt like a sky bleeding red

A reddened canvas the world became

And they knew they'd never be the same

But like sun-struck petals in whorls and swirls

Growing through earth and glistening like pearls

With the life-force of love, she overcame it all

And held onto its cords after each and every fall

Separation cleaved but love bound strong

And hearts remained where they belonged

Seasons now shone in brightest strips

And all but pain sprang from her lips

The sky above no longer bled red

And she saw the world in mauve instead

Note:

Where do I even start with how amazing this author is? A true role model for the Nigerian girl. From the richness of Igbo names in her work to her fearlessness.

This book really transports a reader. Her love for the town she was born in is very clear in her writing. I remember the feeling that bubbled inside me when I went to Enugu a while ago. Since I barely moved around, I realised that it didn't feel like I went to Enugu.

I WENT to Nsukka, Enugu when I read Purple Hibiscus. It was like a grand swan dive with a never-ending splash. She took me there and I tried to express some of that in this poem.

There are so many things I didn't do justice, like Amaka's wonderful stubbornness, Obiora's habitual pushing up of his glasses and his hilarious way with words... *sigh* So beautiful.

Thank you for reading.