The massiveness of writing tends to be widely perceived, but that's not really genuine until you have been inside writing. With your entire body. With your whole soul. Until every muscle and every nerve of you screams "WRITING." Then you know that writing is huge and that you are only inside a tiny portion of writing. What a marvellous privilege to occupy a tiny portion of writing a few hours ago! With Short Story Day Africa, Huza Press and Goethe Institute.
In each one of the thousand writing exercises we did, writers scribbled down word to word as they rushed down from their minds down to the papers, non-stop. We employed spoken word to let our ears hear what our hands wrote. As words of my colleagues reached my ears, it took me a second or two to get paralysis off my body. The richness of the mind blowing tales told by intelligent these writers certainly permanent mark on my heart. It's one thing to read a writer's work, and another to see them create it timely and read it to you right away. It felt like watching a musician play live; only the musician doesn't write the song live. Rwanda, you are wealthy; I found out how much.
The most important and most intense part of the workshop was held later. We had been asked to bring an item of a personal value to us. I chose lipstick. I had only wore it less than 5 times to go out; I don't use it anymore because of the memories it holds. Each one of us was told to hold the object they brought, think about it, feel it, smell it ... and everything else that's associated with the object for more than two minutes. Once inside the lipstick, there was no going back for me.
My body trembled. Haze that felt like tears formed in the eyelids of my eyes and caused them heaviness so hard to carry. Then my heart went back to that place; felt the exact painful lipstick memories. The ache; the brokenness and helplessness. The feelings were too heavy I can actually feel them again right now! They stung but it weirdly felt good, I actually didn't know want to let them go.
Later, we created characters based on what we wrote about the objects. I created this lipstick as a character. "She" symbolises the lipstick and "people" symbolise me. Enjoy.
"It wasn't until she was used, wasted, that her world turned upside down. People wrinkled their noses when they got close to her. Whoever set eyes on her cursed himself for the tears people cried because of her. The fragility of her skin became burnt flesh when people touched it. And people actually became aware of her hoarse voice instead of the melodious one they thought she had.
She was the sound of doom; the thunder of war; the symbol of destruction. She was cast away; but even when she was retrieved, people could still feel the sting she brings in their eyes, the pain that uprooted the worst images of their past."
Well, writing is very fun; but it's tough, exhausting, dare I say, terrifying. Ever since the workshop, my senses' awareness became sharper. And this is one incredible experience! Thank you Rachel Zadok and Louise Umutoni-Bower! Tough writers! 😍😍