Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

My heart lingers in a place where the skies are grey. My head lingers in a space where the skies are grey. The days are grey. The people I meet are grey. I live through days with people who wear masks and the skies are grey.

Come, come see my heart. Some may wonder, is it grey, like my head. Is it grey too, like my days. Are my days with people, one where I too wear mask. The place and space still has skies that are grey.

Honestly, my heart may lay in this place where the skies are grey. My head too may rest in this space. I know that I will meet days and people who wear masks. They will see my own too.

But still, I plan to tread softly, tread quietly too, knowing the skies, the days, and all the people I meet are grey. Still, I know there are places, and spaces full of days with people where the skies are blue. Me as I am, I am looking up and look out for those people, looking forward to those places and spaces where the skies are blue and a dog named Simba runs around you…

I am intrigued by all the ways people explain the work world. The other day, I listened to a lecture where cartoons were used to show how women do more than lean in at work. Lately, I have thinking about how to compile all the many little nuggets I share here. You will never work hard unless you work for yourself. So these days, I find myself working for myself first. Doing the things I love like writing about the lecture I listened to that intrigued me. What if I complied all my notes here from the work world. What would I say. How would I say it and why. The past 11 years of academic work has been an experience. I have seen many people come and go and still see many people come and go. But perhaps no experience stands out more than that one that happened last August, last year in fact. This year too. I am learning every year, every moment has something to teach and many will be lessons worthy of being kept for tomorrow. If I have been tough on people, I was wearing a mask. We had to be tough. We still do and I am still wearing mask. You would too if you know what I went through last year and with people who also wore masks for themselves too. That is the lesson. The skies are grey and people wear mask. The key is to let them in slowly and tread softly. Let people go. I repeat if you see a sign, trust it and let people and places go. Perhaps that is one great lesson as the skies are still grey and so are the people.

One last thing that inspired all this, I rarely share my transition experience from my prior place. I did so the other day and I was surprised that there is so much I have repressed about the event given my number one priority was securing the funding to the new space. Do your worst was all I kept saying but never mess with an Igbo woman from Onicha Ugbo with ancestors who were farmers and market people. It’s like they all came to the battle with me. My mind was on my money in the words of Ayra Starr. The kind money we dey talk about would make anyone focus. So I focused and didn’t let what was happening faze me. Then we arrived and to find that I had something worse than Ogbange within my team was another thing that let me suppress so much about the past couple of months.

So last week, I found myself for the first time releasing how I felt about the past couple of months in a long time. Not from a place of defeat or struggle but what it means to go a journey to survive places grey and with people who wear masks. I call it a journey because the skies are still grey. The people are grey and we are all wearing masks. How this chapter will unfold is yet to be told. We still have to prune so many people, and things out and the process has begun. Trust. I don’t trust people. That’s what such an experience will do. And the circle, yea, it’s small and will only get smaller. If I’m ending things, it’s not you, it’s me. Change is hard but necessary with this next phase. I am still residing in a place where the skies are grey, I expect days still and people to still wear masks and for now, read between the lines.

These days, when I look up for myself, the skies are blue. I see the people around and they are themselves. I am loving this phase where I get to spend time with boys who run around a dog named Simba. Your people, as in those for you, well what I am learning is that they don’t wear masks. And when I look up, when you look up, the skies are blue. We are staying here ooh…(To be continued, my note on places where the skies are blue)