BENYF is a published author whose vision is to add her voice to the voices of the African Diaspora globally, predominantly on the issues of vulnerability, self-discovery, humility, feminism, and empowerment.
From Chapter 1:
My wise friend tells me that broken souls have made the world a better place. I don’t know if I should believe him today. For the pain of yesterday is still lingering, heavily, unbearably, on my heart. I miss her. I really do miss her. And there is nothing around here to calm me down. And yet my wise friend tells me that a broken heart should allow healing lights to penetrate its core. It is when we are broken that we get in touch with the divine.
The question becomes, “Will I let the light into my heart? Or will I close my heart to the light?”
I don’t know if I want to listen to him today. For the pain of abandonment and rejection is far too heavy on my soul today. I miss her, I truly miss her. And there is no one to calm me down. Of course, my wise friend tells me that if the universe brought me joy in a fraction of seconds, it will bring it back again if I have hope and purpose.
How can he speak of hope when I am so broken?
An African diaspora tale of self-discovery
BENYF is a curriculum designer who focuses primarily on youth empowerment.
My star, my moon, my midnight dance appeared to me that night like an angel on a less traveled road. She was simple, she was caring, and she was curious. Her every words were enough to quench a suddenly appearing thirst which until then seemed non-existing and unquenchable. Her every move substituted pain with laughter in a fraction of second. A peace to appease my worries, it seemed. A piece of heaven in a dark dungeon, it appeared. A light, a gentle stare that captured my soul and in one second, a quiet voice that forever made me hers, it felt. She walked next to me. I paused and I embraced the moment; I had been visited by an angel. That night, that starry night, I can still remember it as if it were yesterday, she gave me my purpose. I live to love her. But soon in the morning, she was gone, and she never came back. I was broken. I am Sam Mawendji, and this is my broken heart story.