I come from a land where it’s not easy to dream. I come from a land in which it is financially restricting, mentally arresting and emotionally taxing to dream. That mixed with a ruling party that takes dreams to be a treasonous act and the welfare of its people to be something never to flirt with. It is difficult to be a dreamer. My mother always pushed and inspired me to dream big. I did not realize how my dreams were born and deeply rooted in my mother and when I was forcibly detached from her, I got lost. The death of my mother was also the death of a part of me I thought I could never get back. I forgot who I was. I forgot my dreams. I became a shadow of what my mother raised me to be. Refusing to recognize that I needed to give myself time to properly recalibrate was my biggest mistake. I dived head first into life and I made a series of bad decisions. I found myself in situations and commitments that I shouldn’t have been in. I took jobs that I shouldn’t have taken and I wasted my talents and my potential. None of these helped the cause to further my dreams or the things I have always wanted to achieve.
With time, I have been fortunate enough to find myself in the company of dreamers. I have made friends with people whose potential is unending and whose dreams reach out to corners of the world I didn’t even know existed. I have found myself starting to dream again. The dreams have begun to resurface. I am constantly breaking the chains that have been holding me down. I started writing as a way to channel my grief. Since then, my writing has taken a different turn and now serves another purpose. I have extended my writing, which was mostly always just personal musings, to documenting the lives of the people I encounter on a daily basis. The biggest dream for teenage me was to travel the world, see and tour various tourist attractions and experience as many different cultures as I could. That dream is back and it’s more powerful than I’ve ever felt it. It demands to be fulfilled but with a bit of a twist now.
I dream to give a voice to my people. Recently, the narrative about Africa has begun to change thanks to a rise in the number of African people who have decided to speak for themselves. The world is awash with false narratives about Africa because the story tellers of previous eras had a particular picture of Africa they wanted to paint. Now it is time for African stories by African voices and it is these voices that I want to chase and give a platform to be heard, or in this case read. This one time, I was speaking to a friend of mine about this dream of mine and she lit a fire under it. She gave me contacts in some of the countries I want to visit and I started making the necessary plans. In the midst of all this planning, the same person (bless your soul Vimbai) sent me a link to the #Faces2Hearts competition. I don’t know if it was deliberate on her end but the competition offered me exactly what I was looking for. Winning the #Faces2Hearts competition would steam roll my dreams in ways I don’t even want to imagine lest I overexcite myself. The experience I would get from the #Faces2Hearts journey would also go a very long way in preparing me for the solo journeys I want to embark on afterwards.
To whoever is reading this, you should know that your dreams are valid. As farfetched and as distant as they might seem, they are valid. I know circumstances may be extremely limiting but do everything in your power to pursue your dreams. You might feel small. You might feel incapable. Yet I say this to you, dare to dream. So I make this declaration and I make it with certainty. I will realize my dream. It might take me a while and it might bleed me dry but I will attain it.
Please do watch, like, comment and share my application for the #Faces2Hearts competition here. Share using the hashtag #Faces2Hearts. Thank you for your support.