Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

And the dreams of my father, those nurtured in a place where sands are red, spoke to me again, from the depths of our soul, through storms raging, through torrents pouring, saying even anger will never reach your soul, even if hot pebbles fall on your bare skin, even if the heavens force the skies to release rain, nothing, not even the fever on your tongue, the sweat from your toil, will ever make the tiniest drop of anger reach your soul, and this is the meaning of your name, the peace it brings. Keep it. 

I went to a narrative of Africa Art exhibit back in November at our local museum and came across this display that reminded me of work my mother’s NGO carries out in Nigeria. They do six things, one of which is book binding with Ankara materials. I was impressed that book binding in this way was considered art in America that it revived something I have longed know to be true. Art is healing. It’s always in service for people, whether from the artist who takes the time to create or the people who take the time to cherish what’s being created. As the year comes to an end, I was reminded to remember by name for all the ways it heals like art. See Iwelunmor isn’t a common name and when you learn what it means, you will be healed. That’s the message for me as I close this year, that no matter the anger 2024 brought, no matter the disappointment too from people I had high expectations, know that in the end, the anger and the pain it brought never reached my soul, not when we gained so much: Peace!