LIVIA'S BOOKLET

The year 2024 was a transformative journey, one that taught me happiness isn't always wrapped in milestones. Instead, I found myself carrying a needle and thread, stitching myself back together, trying to conceal the unraveling of my smallest parts. This was the year I poured my heart and soul into something I deeply desired. Yet, I discovered that behind every smile lies a silent battle – we're all fighting to hold ourselves together. In the midst of chaos, I found a wildfire burning within me, a haze in my gaze, and a storm brewing beneath my skin. But I've come to realize that it doesn't matter how loud the world cheers or who's watching – I am where I belong. I am a dream, a vintage melody, a siren's song. This chapter of my life was meant for me to navigate alone, practicing independence and embracing solitude. I bought myself flowers, celebrated my progress, and found pride in every battle I fought. Those struggles weren't gentle, but they were necessa...

This year has been a paradox of survival and loss. Even the most breathtaking sunsets have felt bittersweet, reminders of the pieces of myself I've left behind. I've made it through the storms, but not without scars. My joy, faith, patience, self-esteem, hope, and purpose – all have been tested and tried. I've taken the road less traveled, hoping for a shorter, more peaceful path. Yet, I wonder who I would have become without the weight of these experiences. This year has taught me that happiness isn't always tied to milestones or achievements. Sometimes, it's found in the simple moments – like sipping coffee on my sofa, free from the need to be anywhere else. Despite all that I've lost, I've also gained so much. I've grown, learned to embrace change, and discovered that even in the darkest moments, I am still here. I'm not sure how I made it to December, but I do know that the imperfections and lessons – even the painful ones – have shaped me into s...

  Never did I imagine that marriage could be this difficult for me. I married a woman whom I timelessly called my best friend. We had a great understanding of each other’s needs and desires. But I am disturbed from the recent change of behaviour and a turn of events. I am losing it. I have been going through sexual violence in my marriage and it’s no lie that my partner needs help. At this moment, I am beginning to suspect that my decision to marry was either haste, wrong and extremely a bad decision. Akante was that sweet girl I kept thanking God over in the very first days of both our relationship and marriage. We had kept ourselves apart on sexual issues until the night of our wedding. Our first sex escapede was great and gentle, nothing to worry about until three months over it when Akante made me resort to certain kind of weird sex positions and experiences and it’s been giving me sleepless nights and making my days uncomfortable. “Sex is a crucial part in marriage.” I read th...

Did you know? Two in six women and two in eight men experience violence  in their lifetime? Violence  is one of the most pressing human and societal problems. Either domestic, emotional, psychological, financial, sexual, mental, physical and more. Violence  is subtle and it is sneaky. Most abusers are cunning and manipulative. They are aware of what’s going on and what they are doing. Most people abuse to gain control or power over their spouses or partners. Over 60% of cases in the family courts involve ‘gender violence.’ Most marriages and relationships are going through a different type of violence; some blame it on culture but gender violence can never be justified by cultural norms. Cultural beliefs shouldn’t be an excuse for inflicting pain or fear upon others. There is a difference between a person who hurts you by making a mistake, and a person who hurts you by continuing a pattern. Mistakes can be forgiven. Patterns must be broken. – Ella Hicks And one thing to p...

As we observe the 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence, I'm reminded of the often-overlooked reality of domestic abuse against men. The world tells us that men can't be victims of abuse, that we're always the perpetrators. But I'm here to tell you that's a myth. My marriage to Zanille was picture-perfect, or so it seemed. We had a beautiful wedding, and everything appeared normal. But behind closed doors, I endured physical, emotional, and psychological abuse. Five months into our marriage, Zanille started complaining about various things. She wanted new clothes, accessories, and luxury items, despite having everything she needed. I tried to reason with her, but she became aggressive and accusatory. The abuse escalated over time. Zanille would insult me, beat me, and humiliate me in front of our househelp. I was trapped in a living nightmare. I had no one to turn to, and I felt ashamed and embarrassed. I confided in my friends Wilford and Simon, but the...

Twelve years have passed since my father left my side, but the ache of his absence remains. It's a hollowed-out feeling that echoes through every moment, a reminder of the love and laughter we shared. His passing left an unfillable void, a chasm that can never be bridged. Yet, even in death, his presence continues to shape me. His love, his guidance, and his unwavering support remain the north star that navigates me through life's turbulent waters. As I navigate the complexities of life without him, I'm reminded that grief is a journey, not a destination. It's a path that winds and twists, sometimes leading me through dark valleys, other times guiding me to breathtaking vistas. But even in the darkest moments, I find solace in the memories we created together. I find strength in the values he instilled in me, and I find comfort in the knowledge that his love will always be with me. So as I mark this twelfth year without him, I want him to know that I'm still feeling...

Today marks twelve years since my dad passed, but his memory remains alive and vibrant, just like the life he lived. His passing left a gaping hole in our lives, but it also left us with a treasure trove of memories, lessons, and love. He was a force of nature, a whirlwind of energy, enthusiasm, and joy. His infectious laughter, his bright smile, and his generous spirit drew people to him like a magnet. He had a heart of gold, always willing to lend a helping hand, offer a listening ear, or provide a comforting presence. His faith was his rock, his guiding light, and his source of strength. He lived his Christianity with conviction, compassion, and humility. His love for God and his community was evident in everything he did, From his tireless work ethic to his generous philanthropy. But he wasn't  just a devout Christian; he was also a fun-loving, life-affirming, party-starting machine! He knew how to celebrate life's victories, no matter how small they seemed. He'd throw ...

There are parts of me lost between the pages, Tried to flip through to disguise these wounds. I find solace in the words written without notice, A little healing seeps through, a gentle, quiet progress. But it makes me forget what I deserve, For my stories are hard to read, and my wounds still bleed. They remain strawberry red, a constant reminder, Of the healing yet to come, the journey still to wander. I hope for courage to wrap around my heart, For light to beam atop my head, to heal and never depart. To guide me through the darkness, to lead me to the light, To help me find my voice, my strength, my will to fight.

Your old self was a crucial part of your transformation into the person you are today. It's remarkable how little we recognize our former selves. Sometimes, we need people who are emotionally unavailable to reflect our areas for growth, revealing our tendencies towards self-sacrifice and people-pleasing. Be thankful for those who walked out on you during your darkest moments, those who never showed up, and those who never reached out. Their absence reveals profound truths about connection. A powerful lesson learned is that honesty is the foundation of meaningful relationships. Embracing vulnerability can be intimidating, but genuine connections are forged in honesty. Healing from past traumas isn't just about mending wounds; it's about growing into someone with integrity and self-love. Embrace your journey with courage and grace, and remember that your evolution is a testament to your strength and resilience.

I've lost count of the mornings I've woken up with a sad face, Spending the entire day searching for purpose, a sense of place. They say I'm just a cloud, a fleeting thought, But I am the entire sky, vast and brought. I am the thunder and lightning that rumbles deep, A force that yearns to be felt, to shake and to keep. My light and voice will always find a way, To burst through the clouds, come what may.

The silence surrounding GBV has devastating effects on victims. When survivors are silenced, they are denied the opportunity to share their stories, seek help, and access justice. Silence perpetuates the power dynamics that allow GBV to thrive, enabling perpetrators to continue their abuse without accountability. The consequences of silence are dire: - Increased trauma and suffering for victims - Perpetuation of GBV cycles - Reinforcement of harmful gender stereotypes and norms - Delayed or denied access to essential services and support - Erosion of trust in institutions and communities Breaking the silence is crucial to: - Empower survivors to speak out and seek help - Hold perpetrators accountable for their actions - Create a culture of consent and respect - Provide access to essential services and support - Foster a society that values and upholds human rights and dignity By amplifying survivors' voices and stories, we can create a world where GBV is not toler...

There may be no proper response to why the abuse happened. No single answer to solve all the questions and complete the equation; But what we can do is be part of the solution. We can be the answer to a Survivor's cry for help. We can be the thousand voices that rise up to advocate for the elimination of Gender-Based Violence. We can be the ones who hold perpetrators accountable for their actions. We can be the safe haven where Survivors find solace, support, and strength. I remember the day I met Bomè, a survivor of gender-based violence. Her story was a heart-wrenching reminder of the devastating impact of abuse. But what struck me most was her resilience and determination to break the silence. She said, 'I want to be the voice for those who are still suffering in silence.' In that moment, I knew I had to be part of the solution. I joined forces with Bomè and countless others to rise up against gender-based violence. Together, we can create a world where Su...

"#NoExcuse for Gender-Based Violence" Today, we solemnly honor the memories of those who lost their lives to Gender-Based Violence (GBV). We remember their stories, their struggles, and their sacrifices. We acknowledge the pain and suffering they endured, and we recognize the resilience and courage they demonstrated in the face of unimaginable violence. As we recommit to creating safe and inclusive spaces, we imagine a world where survivors feel welcomed, protected, empowered, and supported in breaking their silence. We envision communities that believe survivors, listen to their stories, and provide unwavering support. We see a future where survivors are not blamed or shamed but instead embraced with compassion and understanding. Together, we will dismantle systems of oppression that perpetuate GBV. We will challenge harmful gender stereotypes, confront toxic masculinity, and advocate for policies and practices that promote gender equality. We will create spaces where ...

"The Power of Belief: A Path to Justice for Survivors" Acknowledgment is the first step towards justice. When survivors are believed, their experiences are validated, and their voices are heard. It's a powerful act that shatters the silence and shame that often accompany trauma. Justice begins with acknowledgment. It's the foundation upon which healing is built. When we acknowledge the harm that has been done, we take away the power of the perpetrator and give it back to the survivor. But acknowledgment alone is not enough. We must also take action. We must work towards creating a culture that prevents abuse and supports survivors. A culture that says, 'We believe you; we hear you, and we will fight for you.' Justice is not just about punishing perpetrators; it's about creating a world where survivors can thrive. Where they can share their stories without fear of judgment or retribution. We can start by listening to survivors, by believing their stories, a...

"Shattering Gender Norms, Shattering Violence” Gender norms and stereotypes are the invisible chains that restrict our potential and perpetuate a culture of violence and abuse. To break free from these chains, we need education, awareness, and open conversations that challenge harmful socio-cultural expectations. By targeting the root causes of gender-based violence, we can create a society that values and respects the dignity of all individuals across the gender spectrum. Gender-Based Violence is a universal issue that affects us all, regardless of gender identity or expression. It's time for us to take a collective stand, raise our voices, and raise awareness. Prevention starts with awareness, and action begins with us. Together, we can shatter the norms that perpetuate violence and create a world where everyone can thrive in safety and equality.  

"Breaking the Silence, Breaking the Cycle Silence is a toxic accomplice to Gender-Based Violence. When we fail to speak out, we inadvertently perpetuate the harm. Taboos surrounding GBV create a culture of shame, allowing perpetrators to continue their abuse with impunity. Meanwhile, victims are left to suffer in silence, denied the support and resources they desperately need. It's time to shatter the silence and smash the stigma. Survivors of GBV deserve our unwavering support, understanding, and advocacy. By creating a culture of empathy and understanding, we can empower them to seek help and rebuild their lives. Let's work together to create a world where survivors are heard, believed, and supported. A world where GBV is not tolerated, and perpetrators are held accountable. We can make a difference, one voice at a time."

"Gender-Based Violence is a National Crisis.” The devastating statistics of Gender-Based Violence (GBV) are a stark reminder that both men and women are being killed, injured, and traumatized every day. It's a harsh reality that demands our collective attention and action. The 16 Days of Activism against GBV presents a critical opportunity to raise our voices, take a stand, and demand change. This annual global campaign calls for the elimination of violence and the protection of human rights. It's a time to mobilize, educate, and advocate for policies and practices that promote gender equality and challenge harmful gender stereotypes. Together, we can make a difference. Let's use this 16-day period to amplify the voices of survivors, hold perpetrators accountable, and create a society that values and respects the dignity of all individuals. The time for action is now.  

  I write for hearts that have reclaimed their freedom, For untold stories and unread chapters, hard to relive. I write for pages ripped by betrayers' hands, Hands that held unfulfilled promises, and shattered plans.   But even in the tearing, a new chapter unfolds, A story of resilience, of hearts made bold. For those who've risen from the ashes, I write, To honor their strength, and the beauty in their light

  I am a rose with deep roots in my bones, Wildflowers blooming beneath my skin. I don't want to be plucked or carried away, Nor do I want to be transplanted to unfamiliar ground. I long to be nurtured in my own garden, Watered by the warmth of gentle hands. I crave the sunshine and the nourishing rain, To grow strong and wild, in my own sweet way.

  "Where do I go to grieve when my safe space is gone?" The chapter of my life that was yours is now a memory. I'm dragged into a new narrative, one that began with your ending. I yearn to turn back the pages, but life has torn them away. In dreams, I relive your passing, waking up in anguish, Consumed by emptiness, shock, and grief's heavy chains. I lose you all over again, reliving the pain. Since your departure, I've wandered, lost, without a home. No place feels like home now, but when we meet again, I'll finally find my way back, and my heart will be whole once more.

  Grief suffocates, my body weakens, Nauseous and sickened by all that I've lost. My lungs struggle to breathe through the pain, As mourning weighs heavy, like a constant rain. Sadness lingers, a constant companion, Roaming the shadows, never leaving my side. Yet, I've learned that joy isn't the answer, But tenderness, warmth, and compassion to abide. In the darkness, I'll hold on to presence, Embracing the ache with a gentle embrace. With each breath, I'll let fresh air fill my lungs, And with each exhale, a little weight will lift, a little strength will be won.

  In tender pursuit, I reached for your gaze Longing to connect, to share love's warm ways But like a flower, you didn't bloom for me And in my eagerness, I forced you to see The beauty I beheld, the love I wanted to share But like a bird, you spread wings, and flew from my care I grasped too tight, with hope and desire And in the end, my heart was the one that got tired For love can't be forced, it must grow on its own Like a sunset's warmth, it blooms when the heart is home So let this be a lesson, to gentle my soul To love without condition, and let hearts unfold For in the end, it's not the gaze that I need But the freedom to love, without causing heartache's seed May my heart learn to let go, to trust and to see That love's true beauty lies in its spontaneity.

  Maybe I’m just not good at understanding love— but I’m still trying to learn, people’s emotions, their moods, to untangle myself from life-altering, disorienting moments, and forget the weight of mundanities. Because I’ve learned that: healing is inner work, and a broken soul can teach you much about life. If your experiences can’t instill humility in you, then kindness should never be a virtue— but a way of life.

I came across a thought that struck me: “Loyalty fades when benefits vanish”— let those who wish to leave, depart. There’s no trace of fakeness in my heart. If my actions show you, I care, you’ll know exactly where you stand. Never let those who lack direction pull you into their uncertain drift. I don’t understand why some hold back their true feelings— why do words and actions clash? I’ve never been fond of unsure energy; clarity is everything.

  Grief has torn open the scars of my childhood. I confront demons I never knew were there. I’ve never known what it feels like to be loved or to be happy. I struggle to connect with those who don’t speak the language of grief. The world moves too fast for the broken hearted, too slow for the lonely, creating and consuming, leaving no place to truly belong.

A part of me screams in anguish, The other half remains silent, frozen in pain. I burn, collapsing under the weight of it all. Lost and shattered, a fragment of my former self, since the day I lost you. I've resented the world for continuing to spin, For existing without you. Leaving me to navigate this hollow within. But as I journey through the darkness, I hold onto the hope that our souls will meet again. Wherever my path leads next, I long to find you waiting, a guiding light, a gentle embrace. Until then, I'll hold on to the memories we shared, And strive to find strength in the awareness that our story can spare.  

I've found the strength to stand tall and face the tide. My river flows once more, its currents inside. I'll never negotiate with chaos's wild demands. I'll never harbor guilt's heavy burdensome hands.   The moon aligns with my heartbeat's gentle pace. The ocean cradles my rage, a soothing embrace. I celebrate my kindness, my grace so true. I adore my softness, my empathy shining through.

How do you mend what makes you imperfect? I once read: “Stop bearing others’ pain; it’s not your burden.” On days when your demons dance before your eyes, and you feel trapped within your own skin, when screams echo in your mind— that’s when you should let it all go. It shouldn’t always be you rebuilding walls from ashes. Who’s left to heal the wounds of others. Who will gather every paralyzing moment of chaos and tuck them away. Learn to draw boundaries.  

  Dearest Aku; I have learned a lot since you left. You shattered my heart, but still, I have learned to be kind to others and to empathize with their pain, for I now understand the feeling of being unloved, disrespected—not cared for, and kept in the dark. I know how words can hurt and pierce the soul, leaving a void. Your absence has taught me the torment, the suffering—the misery of realizing the extent of emotional damage from being left alone to deal with things. I never realized how terrible it was until you failed to respond to all fourteen of my previous letters, written to you with love. I have trained my mind to be stronger than my emotions, and I will never be the reason someone endures the agony of rejection.  

  Dearest Aku; I gently write this note to you for I have a bunch of points I have come to realize. I have realized that; Being a nicest person doesn’t get you loved, rather it gets you used. At my own cost, I tried to bring peace but you kept blaming me for a fire you started. I have been kind-warm-giving out second/double chances but that never made you change still – It only made you respect me less. I felt at home and got comfortable in your arms, little did I know you didn’t want to hold me. I thought; “Maybe I am my own problem” I give out too much and expect a reciprocal But you just never cared enough. Like a child playing with crayons you kept scribbling all over my heart. I read somewhere that said; “Distance yourself from people that bring out the person you’re trying not to be anymore, and surround yourself with people who reciprocate everything you give and let your souls dance there.” You muted all my bright colors and altered the way ...

  In the flame of your lies I burned. I watched you rip me off like a band aid. With betrayal sealed up on your lips you peeled me slowly layer by layer.

I am a woman who feels very sentimental today, There is a man whom I once loved very much, The man whom I met when I had nothing much or life experience. I met this man when I felt sorry Because I couldn’t meet up to the standard of his lifestyle, When I felt sorry for I couldn’t make up my face and dress on high prices Like the rest of the girls around him. I met this man when I had no courage on myself When I knew nothing but loyalty and honesty, When I was so faithful and devoted to just one soul, I worshipped the ground he walked on! But one day, this man said he couldn’t handle me anymore And he left! He left me shattered and broken Wordless and agonized He left me lost and crashed my trust My self-esteem, my honesty on Instant.  

1.    I’m just a girl growing up amidst abuse, I sowed dreams in the little pair of my twinkling eyes dreams to change the world. Every time I look in the mirror I’m enchanted with utter joy that’s filled with aches to see myself growing into a beautiful scorned woman. I ran my fingers through my face reaching the crest of my lips, thinking of ways to give my curves an oomph adoring my body for hours-what on earth this masterpiece is. My faith in humanity was shuddered when first my rights were violated a shiver ran down my spine and I couldn’t move, But I realized; “ a woman’s life is miserable, but all she wants is to reach home safely by the end of the day .”  

    They say; “I don’t write proses about laughter,” that; “sorrow is always the protagonist in every prose I write.” They say; “I am addicted to sorrow and agony.” Have you yet noticed the smiles I wear on pictures? They say; “it's all fake” that; “I often smile back to the heartbroken me.” They say; “I’m tied to the scent of roses,” that; “I put on a smile with them in my hands whilst I am groaning inside to the pain of the thorns.” And I ask; “All these proses I have written do they really reach their desired destinations?” and that; “do you all know the desire and passion buried inside them? Or maybe you are just full of mockery?”

  1.    Like white Sunday clothes you promised to love me. I cling to you cause I thought you made me feel good but you were killing me softly Red eyes Broken ribs Twisted wrist Swollen face a Broken heart is this what you call love?

1.    To the trauma inside my body which parts my personality which suppresses and distracts me from getting my goals done freezing me from running; I deserve all of the chances I reclaim my energy and my essence.  

I have woken up with sorrow falling from my eyes Agony lingering in my heart Light shatters before me and I make peace with darkness instead.