There is a place where hurt sits in the cradle of our souls. It gets deposited there and is pressed in. Once in a while, a cleansing occurs. Almost like how a refiner’s fire separates the gunk from pure gold. We use the treasurable remains of that cleansing to move on and heal. It is a cycle. We keep reinventing ourselves as more than we could ever imagine we could be. Sometimes hurt and self-worthlessness consume us to a point of emotional blindness that nearly amputates us from our own hearts and souls. We were made to be great. Greatness is not measured by material wealth, physical appearance or sleight of hand. It is determined by the amount of times you pull yourself out of the mud of self doubt to the point of helping others see worth in themselves. We’re born with a beating heart, a hungry brain, an inarticulate voice and with others seeing potential in us before we even realise what we are. So, when you’re about to give up and chop yourself down to pieces, remember there is someone who needs your flame, no matter how weak, to light up their own. And that way, you will realise how priceless you are to the universe and those around you.
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Frank Malaba is an enigma to Zimbabwe, the country of his birth. Such a distinction is not defined by his talent as a poet, artist, writer, but by his advocacy, as a gay African male. He STANDS, though persecuted, he STANDS, to love, and he speaks his truth. Malaba loves his country, but fights for his “very being.” He invites all gay Africans to stand with him, to fight for the right be treated as vital participants in African culture that deserve to be respected. His blog, Frank Malaba’s Prosetry, invites all kindred spirits to speak, love, and heal.