A quick teaser. Is this photo familiar? Does it feel like you have seen it somewhere before? What memory or personality does it bring to mind?
Well, that is a photo that accompanies a popular poem (“Caged Bird”) by the late Maya Angelou (1928-2014). She was a great American poet whose influence went beyond the shores of her nation.
The name Maya Angelou always sounded familiar before I placed the name on the face. Sometimes the name sounded masculine. The road to finding more about the lady behind the name was quite a fun, intriguing and inspiring ride.
If I remember correctly, Kiyani was the one who first gave me a positive impression of this great woman. I have seen quotes from her and her name mentioned on varied occasions but I did not just know who or what she was. Whether an activist like Rosa Parks or was first known for/with something like Funmilayo Kuti is reckoned the first Nigerian woman to drive a car. I just didn’t know much. And it never bothered me to seek to know more. Her matter was of no significance to me; I simply wasn’t interested because I didn’t know.
There was a period, just before Kiyani earned the name Aunty Hope from me, I noticed her frequent citations and quotations from the delectable lady. I became more curious with every update from Kiyani that had something to do with Maya Angelou. Even the very poem which accompanies the piece above was shared on her status. I grew fond of this woman with a wrinkled face—based on the photos I saw—weak eyelids but sharp eyes, and fine adorning with grey hair. Just what was about this woman?
Despite the poems and quotations, I did not consider her a literary figure. She was like a statesman who appreciates literature. Just that. It didn’t matter that the recurrent writings were far more artistic than diplomatic. I was still sieving my speculations. Forget that Google is handy.
I did not get on Google immediately. I asked Kiyani: ‘What is it about this woman? We have seen so much of her already’. Kiyani answered as best she could. I was left to fill in the gaps I cared to know more about and not stress my friend needlessly. Google then came in handy.
Last week, I encountered this passionately artistic girl. Wielding her pen she produces fine pieces with graceful strokes and shades. Currently, she is a Grade 12 student (SS3 student as we know it here in Nigeria) in her school. I was quite intrigued by the first piece I encountered. I wanted more, so I asked to see more. She allowed me the privilege of having a look at the collection that she’s produced since when she enrolled in secondary school, I guess. I saw many other great works by her, but this very one in this post had a different kind of appeal. One I could not resist but asked to have a photograph of it since I could not pay a dime for it, just yet. It is honourable to pay for this one I am using here, but she wasn’t apprehensive as she recognised that it inspired something to write about, having given her a glimpse of this piece.
(What if you send some cash to appreciate this fine art? Let me know if you are willing to do it via WhatsApp on 09028838362.)
The picture from which she imitated it appealed to her as it did to me, maybe more or less than it did to me. So, what better way to possess a memory of it than to use the power she knows how to wield best? She picked her pen just after one of their recitations in school (of the poem) for mastery of it and voila! If she had not I wouldn’t have it to tell this story. Do you see? But the concern is that she paid to have the textbook from which she imitated. A reproduction of it is worth the dime I could offer in appreciation of her time, skill, initiative, and daringness. But for reasonable restrictions, I would have shown a bit more from her collection, but you have to wait for when she decides to allow you to see it. Or when I am ready enough to pay for some of them.
What is the point of this narrative? I know you must be asking already.
The point is if Kiyani had not spoken so much about Lady Maya, I may not have come to appreciate her works. Maybe somehow I would have come across it, but not too soon, I can bet you. And had I not seen this piece in Ringna’s collection, I wouldn’t have had the idea for this piece; nor would you have a despatch so interesting to read interesting.
Kiyani and Ringna are pointers to this great thing. We all are pointers to something great. Settle down to think about it. You wouldn’t have found your heroes if not for someone in between whom you may not have appreciated or had the privilege to do so. Ultimately, we are pointers to our Creator. The earth in its entirety speaks of His glory. (See Psalm 19:1-2; Romans 1:20.)
1 The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
2 Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge (Psalm 19:1-2, NIV).
In conclusion, we all matter—one to another. And we all point to different things. Seek to be a pointer to great things as my friends, Kiyani and Ringna are. Thank you K. and R. for pointing me towards writing this, even though unconsciously. I never thought it would flesh out this way, at least not this long and inspiring, to not say more.
Be a pointer to my next reader/subscriber, if you appreciate this.
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And the internet makes you a pointer to a vast audience: share the post.
Stay a great pointer, Fellow.
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