My Escape Route, a Poetic Tunnel (Creativenonfiction) 🏃 🌌

The Inkwell Prompt

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As a young boy, navigating through life, finding meaning to life, a reason to exist, and other challenges were all like an unpleasant cocktail, which was the only 'meal' life served me at some point in my life. When I had challenges as a teenager, it wasn’t only my parents that helped me go through that stage of life. Although I had friends and family members, they weren’t enough to decipher the well-coded problems life inserted in my system. A lot of things contributed to my finding an escape route from all the excessive life trials back then. Let’s take a look at my experience.

“Folu! Folu!! Folu!!!” My mom came calling. That was the third time she came to my room, and I believe she was wondering what I was still doing there. My dad just came back from one of his trips that afternoon, and my attention was needed to (as usual) pack things and do whatever we needed to. “Ma! I will soon join you.” I reluctantly answered from my bed. “Get out of that room and follow me now!” Whenever my mom sounds like this, you can be sure that your cane is not far from her reach. I got the message and rushed out.

“I’m sorry, ma; I was just trying to finish up some things.” Like a fisherman trying to save his boat from getting wrecked by the storm, I quickly replied to escape some whopping. My mom gave me a funny look, which made me feel like ‘my boat of tricks’ would definitely capsize. “I have told you, don’t say things or some things when telling me about whatever you are doing; it sounds evasive.” In my mind, I couldn’t help but reply, “you got me, mom, but no, I still got more, mom.”

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I imagined her hearing the response in my head, then quickly came back to my senses. “What are you thinking about?” My mom asked suspiciously. I have heard jokes where African mothers can perceive your thoughts, but this reality is too much for me to bear. “I have been writing, ma, and I want to conclude my thoughts before leaving my room.” I don’t know whether I have just dialed the flogging hotline or if my luck is still intact. “What are you writing about?” My mom’s response gave me the confidence that my luck is still in power!

After discovering that I have been writing several poems about life and other things related to it, my mom was surprised and happy. However, she had other things to worry about, so it wasn’t really her priority at the moment. She, however, encouraged me to nurture my talent. With thanks and happiness that I escaped being lashed, I followed her to my dad to get my chores done.

As of when I started writing, I was still at home working on my exams to get admitted to the university. After getting my admission, I was, however, privileged to know a bit about some poetry platforms, and I had all the poems I had written well-arranged on my shelf. I was able to share my experience with the world. I got some comments. I even got featured on a special radio program!

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As I was going through all the challenges at the time, I never knew my escape route was a gift, not just to myself but also to the world around me and beyond. The funny thing is that these poems are still very accessible, and you can click here to check them out.