Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

The words I write, are always wanting to be of use for a day. Today, three words crept into my soul from the beginning and so I wrote them down again. Be of use. To whom, I wondered. Myself. Of course I will make use of my time on earth. But who else, my Zobam, my children, Nnem, mama, my family, those I reach and those I cannot reach. I would imagine they find me useful. Still, there is more. Is it research. Of course every single thing we re-search should be of use. But there is more. People, everyday people you barely see. Some walking as you walk too, passing this earth like strangers do. Yet, we are supposed to be of use to each other. How. We barely breathe the same air. We are of no use to anyone whose air we cannot touch. They cannot touch ours too. Still these words remain. Be of use. Just be. Of use. Always. Be of use, to you, those you know and those you don’t know and maybe then we will inch closer towards the meaning of life or all the ways we take risks, stay small, build trust.