Born and bred in Africa, raised
occidental, The Freak’Occidental was a freak of nature. The Freak’ Occidental
was birthed and nursed by a lady with an afro, wearer of floral prints and Bob
Marley avid listener. The lady with the afro was born a little before her time;
the delivery stork might have delivered her in the wrong era. At the ripe age
of 20 something, the lady with an afro met a structured minimalist, from the
same land. The minimalist dreamed international and spoke occidental. A coconut
of some sort, he was a listener of Mozart and white golfer’s tee and preppy swagger type of guy. Both too expressive and passionate, their love was
knitted with poetry, structure, hard work and ambition. He wrote her poetry,
poetry that reflected her strong beliefs, driven spirit and warm heart.
Few years later, they gave birth
to a ‘Freak’Occidental’. Born in Africa but raised Occidental. She was neither
from here or there but she belonged. One birthed her but the other taught her
all that she knew about life. In her mind it was simple, both worlds existed
and no choice had to be made between the two. The Freak'Occidental was classified a
misfit by the society she lived in. Like how dared she lack modesty and look a
person straight into their eyes when conversing? How could she be fluent, articulate and free
to express her mind, but still be from the land?
Why was a queen expected to forge
herself into forced humility, she asked herself? Could the land not produce
queens that could lead the pack? After all, the afro lady, print wearer taught
her emancipation and made her aware of the freedom to speak her mind. One thing
she emphasised was that eclipsing one’s greatness did not make the stars shine
brighter, ‘not a so bright of an idea baby’. Besides, the structured minimalist
trained her to dream global and not be coerced by supremacy. Philosophical
debates and questions about her opinion were her bed time stories. It’s all she
was ever taught, all that she ever knew.
Funny enough, the minimalist and
the floral prints wearer looked puzzled by the flower child. They were
challenged by the product of their teaching, reproaching her for being too
opinionated, stubborn, and too free to survive in the land. What an impersonation of their truth, what a
perfection of their belief-as scary, as ugly, as bunt, as real as it could be; they now
sought to soften her edges to ensure that she could thrive in the land. But the
Freak-Occidental grew to be a wild flower, one eager to follow unexplored paths
to find the boundary less way to her soul. Her soul was the only place that did
not require her to be identified but allowed her to just be. The only place
where mighty mindful melanin was not a shocking factor, and expression and
femininity were not mutually exclusive.
So she went on to create her own
world, where other Feak’Occidentals could be free to be. A bubble, where there
was no need to impress or be acknowledged by the locals, foreigners or the
travelers. In that world, there was no need to explain how greatness was
birthed at home and should be appreciated as such and not seen as impressive or shocking.
In that world, there was no need to fake humility or altering their persona to
fit in, just to prove that they belonged to the land. All that mattered was to
simply enjoy the freedom to be all that they could be and wander the land
without a need to be labelled or fit into a category. The only box that the Freak'Occidentals ticked was FREE.
White blouse: The Fix
Print Top: Aella (made by me)
Brogues: The Fix
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