The best practices for engaging the public in public health are grounded in entrepreneurship. There is a reason the public clings to products outside of health than those health-related. I came across firefly innovations the other day out of curiosity from what I saw a colleague doing. Honestly, their work is great and I applaud all they are doing to identify, cultivate and accelerate impact-drive public health ventures, particularly from those with lived experiences and working with them to solve the issues. Reading their paper and subsequently visiting their website was a stark reminder that I am surrounded by people who don’t see my vision. Honestly, if I could make some changes today, I would. What I won’t do is waste time. So if you seeing me cutting off or canceling anything, it’s because my time is precious to me these days. Feel free to do the same and keep change. For these days, all I can promise to be is water, plain and direct, unsparing to myself, and unsparing to those moving on to the next phase of my life. To others, please seek your innovations elsewhere and fast. I also agree, firefly is exceptional for public health. Keep them in mind always.
One song has been ringing in my head lately. Tiwa Savage’s Stamina. The idea of living to fight another day for one is a plus. That and the fact that there are still so many things to do. So it matters that I have the stamina and freedom always to show what I carry, my way. When you abuse that freedom, get in its way, or even attempt to thwart it, then I pray you have stamina too. Either way, I am living to fight another day.
Keep saying what happened.
I heard these words today. From the poetry of Robert Lowell. Keep saying what happened. Even when tired, say it. Even with backs turned against you, say it. Whether happy, say. Or sleepy, still say it too.
Some of us may fall into rivers, splashing waters all around us. But when we rise, not matter how wet we may seem, we will still say and share all the ways life and you pushed us into the deep end.
Keep palm trees of Nimo!
I paused deep in Nimo, the other day, to see the palm trees again, to see the red earth too, to watch how fruits cling to trees, to eat only things my soul desires. Then we went up the stairs, to a top balcony where the palm trees and I greeted ourselves again. I stood in silence and watched as the trees served me grace, wrapped me with love, reminded me to stand, even as they blew gentle kisses, of the softest breezes, my way. My eyes were busy gathering their love, gathering all the ways they rustle the air. The trees were busy stretching my being, stretching in a sweet embrace, all the ways I rustle like air. I left, centering my core, to the rhythms of time, rhythms of the palm trees too, knowing still that Nkiruka, what is ahead, is still greater than all I saw in Nimo.
While the children played, and the adults ate, and the teenagers laughed and the dogs barked, the day of the risen Christ was full of hope, like the sounds of a talking drum. If this is Christ risen, then let our meeting forever be permanent. Happy Easter.
Keep remembering paths that formed you or how paw paws cling to trees!
When we retrace our steps, and we end up on Zik road, in the land where the earth is red, and the walls and the streets are red, and the roads are full of people trading wares, there shall still linger, the steps that forged our years, eyes shall still remember a voice they once heard, a name now distant, but near. Some will linger and stare, for it cannot be the same eyes they saw those years, the same hands that carried lives upstairs, the air still lingers with memories of blazing sun, memories of a distant time that shaped and formed you, like the slow walk of trees. Even though death’s chorus lingers in the air, even though we gather with eyes veiled to retrace our steps, it’s the lessons of how paw paws cling to trees, that unifies our gaze. Keep remembering the paths that formed you.
Keep the radiance of light!
In search of light, be prepared to use all tools. Some poetry, some ruse. Some focused on gaze, some ready to amaze. Melting horizons, constant revisions, all we need is around us, if only we are willing to see, surmise, and understand, that those who search for their light, those that let the knowledge of their light seep deeply in their being, are ready to spill blood to keep contact with legions of light. They will find paths where none exist. Those only suffused with light, those like the skies unshakeable brilliance, a love without limits, like an arrival at a juncture where truth, knowledge, is possible, like the radiance of light. They will seek out the openness of forests, dance through the nakedness of trees. We will ensure that those that came before us, those that go before us, all of them, like legions around us, will live long for us. Speak too for us, because for too long, others have spoken for us. We will need to do all these things, to meet the look, the gaze of a life radiant like light. I am ready…
Keep climbing mountains!
If you have ever been invisible, ever been accused, ever been dismissed, ever been muted, even when not in a room, consider yourself lucky to have come this far. Then keep climbing your mountain. For few will see the moon glow as it does for those ignored. Few will understand that they choose their words carefully. Language is a tool to be used wisely. Poetry too is a tool that will make you memorize these word: The moon favors women who know the stories of lions.
See how they glow. Few will know that they are not helpless, not speechless, not ignorant, of the way titles and roles handicap humanity like those of hunters. See some of us were named before anything and anyone named us. If you don’t know, ask about Igbo people, learn about our history, our ways, how legions named us before the world saw us. Then when you are done learning, go back and witness how greatness unfolds for those in alignment with their Chi, see how their Ike, never ends, watch their Ije, and see how even Ani belongs to them. Then and only then will you understand how they flow through Oge, how what holds them is as divine as the primal vision of the bluest skies. Today and always, poetry will serve, nouns will choke verbs used to describe actions. Diagram this sentence too: Those climbing mountains, those who know themselves, those named before anything named them, those Igbo, those like lions too, will burn you a tune you will hum forever. Wait for it…
On the day so many witnessed the double standards black girls and women face, even in basketball, I witnessed the same for myself personally. I have written elsewhere about what it means to be silent and what it means to survive academia as a black woman on your own terms. The future will tell the story better one day. My asks have alway been simple, live and let live. Will I make you work, yes. I work, so anyone around me better get used to that. Will I make you question even your own existence. Yes. We are called to be cities on hills, so your light, at least around me, cannot be hidden. Will it make some quit. Absolutely. Quitting is part of the story. We should always stop when dreams are not in alignment. It doesn’t mean you can’t dream for yourself still, just that everyone needs to find it for themselves first. I did for myself, so it is only natural that anyone should have a plan for themselves. What I can’t I won’t tolerate is hidden agendas. It’s not in my DNA to hide anything I do. I am as transparent with all my goals and dreams as can be, my biggest weakness, because I love to talk. But the moment you begin to hide your own, should be the day you decide to roam this earth on your own. I will always wish you Ijeoma.
But back to today’s keep, here is how to keep being amazing even when one journey ends just as another begins, even as you climb any mountain on your own terms. Know yourself.
I spoke to my mentor yesterday and even from afar, he knew these moments will come. We have been going on this mentorship thing for over 16 years. We have witnessed the good and the bad, including the death of my father. That he is more than a mentor to me is not an understatement. I run to him when the good comes as well as when the struggles and hurdles come. Here is what he told me, word for word ‘let them head for the valley and you continue to climb the mountain.’ I know my people. They know me well. Chi-chi said change is necessary for growth and so is letting go. I am listening. Everything and everyone is reminding me how poetry is not a luxury. Keep climbing mountains.
June 5th, 2021, our world changed forever. In the beginning, we grasped whatever we could to survive. Words like cancer became etched in our minds forever. Escaping from the science of implementing, I found the science everywhere. The questions too, of how come, why, when, became our only way. You became the question we never knew we could ask. That women die every day from something with proven intervention. Our own Angie, died in a painful way. One week after my dad’s birthday. Another volt that grapples our mind. Why do people we love, die. Yet, if people we love die, if we can push it all aside, then living has to mean more, even if we find ourselves lodging in new places and with me faces. Those who have everything given to them, those who speak too as if they started the journey, forget how the story began. It’s at this moment, that change must come.
Words by themselves are never enough even if the microphone is in the hands of few. We created it only for cities built on hills, working with first lights to spaces, destined for greatness. See while they hide, and deny, they only end up deceiving and destroying themselves. Only thing left is to pass the microphone…The plot and the characters for this next chapter was never meant for those with narrow dreams, those exhausted, those that lack imagination, and those at the end of their own road with all their dreams achieved. According to the epic poem by Ben Okri, ‘there is no exhaustion where there is much to be hoped for, to work towards, where dreams remain unrealized.’ Ben Okri would also say, ‘when you can no longer dream, no longer see possibilities, no longer see alternatives, when you see only limitation, despair and negation, then you are in the way. You are also the problem. The exhausted obstruct, the creation of a greater future. They should therefore clear the stage for new dreamers.’ For new warriors of light too, those focused on justice and healing, storytelling and creativity, so that Angie’s death would not be in vain.
For life for me has never been castles in air. I know what it is like to rest in fields of green pastures and walk at the same time through the deepest valley. The woman we became, with feet anchored firmly to the ground, with no fear, only wanting revolution, really wanting evolution, charged by life, by death, the possible ranges of grief and living, and all the changes it propels is the infinity storytelling we have been waiting to tell. Truth it, you were never meant to tell it with others. Never meant to share it too with anyone. Few will share the vision. Few will believe it in to.
But then there is you. Defiant in your ways without excuses, the tools of the incompetent. You know how they seldom succeed. If you have brought people and things close, the next phase requires arm’s length. No need to question why they rally against your strength, no need to see how they see it too. The narrow, rough roads you must and will climb, even in silence or poetry, for Angie and for others who dare dream, requires that you remember from where your strength comes from, even when things end, even when time and things, turn on you like a violent storm. It’s deep end of the valley, keep walking through.
These days I find myself writing words that pierce the coming days with dreams. If I’m writing here often, then I am taking a break from the bigger things being manifested. While they waste their time with the same stories or indulge my space for my minds stories, know that we have moved on past the deep end of the valley, though darkness is still all we see. The next moments are only for those truly at the table. From where does our strength come from they may wonder: from Angie, from legions, from God, from a life only committed to infinity storytelling my way.
Even now with precious memories that sink forever in our soul. Even as the weight of sadness still remains our world, our torch, our life. Our forces are fully focused, pointing to choices, leading away from the familiar. When I speak of change, I don’t mean only seasons. I mean knowing my story, and they ways I’ll tell it to infinity, not in other to complain or force anyone to listen, but as a powerful and eloquent reminder to keep what matters most, and Isioma I write these words, in their fullness, powerfully, to remind you, to keep you.
Keep impacting lives!
Imagine what may happen, if we apply the wonders of our souls, use the mind that mapped the moon, the stars and the womb, to reach beyond the wildest dreams of ourselves. We are not defined by our failures. We are not changed by our goals too. Rivers have changed their courses. We can do the same too. What we call limits for some, are only the starting place for others. Choose your course wisely. Which is why those who impact lives are a force. Those who move without fear, push through fear, sail above fear, turn towards fear, while breaking beyond fear, are like luminous sunsets. To see them shine, to hear them dream and re-dream new worlds, those within reach, clearing deadwood and stale thinking, is to see the powers of solar systems. I saw them today. Listened as they spoke in words powerful, dreamt in love brazen, as they sought to liberate women, from the tight grips of cervical cancer. That we are more or less, the solutions to all that ails us, makers of tomorrow, dreamers for today, is to see the greatest gifts of life. We can gift it to each other. I choose and will choose to do it alone now more than ever, seeing familiarity breeds contempt. I am prepared to shape this beautiful dream, that no woman will ever die from cervical cancer. This is personal to me. I will go the distance, alone, or with a few committed people to impact lives. Thank you for the gifts you all gave us today. That we are still here, and can still rise is a gift. See us now press forward. Our tomorrow is even greater than today. We owe tomorrow, abundant grace, as we work, with only the right people surrounding our table, to impact lives. Silence and poetry is the best answer for others.
True story, when team Camgo came to the contest, I asked them to describe their ideas. One of the daugthers, started describing going to the market place to reach out to women selling fish. She would asked them to use their hard end money to buy some token that can then be used to promote HPV vaccination and HPV screening. I said, why don’t you go to the women directly. You don’t need the money from their fish. What if they sold other things. Don’t all women need this. They listened and today they are winners. I am proud. It’s this few that make all this totally worth it. I can’t wait to dream out this future of how we impact lives together.
We stood at the edge of decision recently, one crucial and alone. We refused to indulge another moment of failed dreams. We have seen seasons come and go. We have looked inward and outward to make sense of the day. Now, we want to breed futures full of dreams. Now we are like bread on a birds mouth. We are dreaming where others thought dreaming was an excuse. Anger was a faint line on my forehead. There are many uses of it, we are learning. For those never meant to survive. These days, as the sunrises, we will dream. As it sets, we will still dream. Our hearts are still full. Days like today will never come again. Not for those unafraid to dream. We will still dream. Though change is coming. Though we wish it was today. We see what lack of dreams breed. The contempt and hatred too. Yet, we will wait to still dream and dream again, knowing the next time, for those who dare dream, would be divine. Welcome to the end of dreamless existence.
Keep being amazing!
I used to wonder about seasons and change. About spring and change. About sudden nearness of days, that seem only to lead to weariness and pain. Today I stood in front of strangers, stood in front of friends and colleagues too. Spoke of pain, spoke of the day, I knew when the rain began to beat me. We still carry a heavy burden. Of guilt, of silence, of what it’s like to wish, for time, to wish for life. This week has been full of lessons. A friend lost his wife, just as their new triplets arrived in the world. I launched a cervical cancer program that started only because my sister in-law died. The end is hard. Beginnings too. I felt both this week. If I was silent, I was processing change. If I was absent, I was liberating change. Both are happening simultaneously that all I can say is grace. So many tried to bring me down this month of March. So many thought I would fall, but they forgot my name is Isioma, my mother is Onyelo, and I am the granddaughter of a woman who persevered. Legions are always behind me. They birthed me and made me their wildest dreams. Our resilience is weird. Our future bristles with possibilities. What they tried to destroy, is only stronger. When it’s time, I will amaze.