Mereja Forum

[teodroseIII]

The first day I opened up the notebook he gave me and started writing, I felt like a toddler trying to figure out quantum physics. The very thing I loved and a craft I’ve been honing since I was in elementary school escaped me like Red breaking out of Shawshank. I could not conjugate a simple sentence nor could I compose a cogent thought; depression robbed me of creativity and hopelessness shrouded inspiration in a blanket of ennui.

As much as I wanted to give up, I kept pushing forward. Bit by bit, one unintelligible sentence at a time, Serendipity returned. This is why my first book is titled Serendipity’s Trace with a blurred out picture of a woman in the background with a feather pen bleeding a teardrop of the old Ethiopian map. The cover picture represents memories of a country that I love but was forced to flee, the pains of my mom who struggled with depression and the fact that my own life was blurred by poverty and uncertainties—my pen became therapy and my sanctuary. Those poems and musings were my North Star to liberation. What started off in a notebook eventually shifted to Facebook, I started writing one observation after another about life, politics, culture and history on social media.

And that is when life fundamentally changed. One day, I wrote a missive titled “Memo to She”, an homage to the strength and bravery of women. Proving that no good deed will go unpunished, even though most loved what I wrote, there were a fringe few who called me all kinds of names and said that I was “mansplaining” because I had the nerve to write that men might have greater physical power but women have an even greater power that is nurturing love.

As much as I wanted to engage in combat and spit back the vitriol that was coming my way, I finally learned through hard knocks to not take the bait each time someone throws pebbles from the sideline—I just bated my breath and refused to act in kind. That decision was rewarded mightily, on December 1st, 2016, I received a notification that Bethlehem Bekele had liked what I wrote. That like was followed up by a note of encouragement. That encouragement led to conversations via messenger and that night I took a leap on forming an authentic friendship instead of being cocooned in seclusion [continued]

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