THROUGH THE PAGES

Hello, my old friend, my oldest and closest companion; it has not been a while because I know I can’t be away from you for too long. You have been with me since my lips learnt to pronounce the alphabets. You have taught me in more ways than one and took me to places I have never visited physically. I would sit on the concrete floors at night, under the stary night sky, with you between my palms and my eyes only on your words. Nights I spent under the glow of the lantern, not wanting to put you down until I knew all you had to tell me. You introduced me to literature before it became a course in school. You taught me new words and various emotions before I learnt them anywhere else.

I remember you, Takadini, recalling your story with great fondness. I felt the pain your mother felt when the villagers scorned you, her boy, because you were different. I watched her struggle to keep you alive while you were young, and I sympathized as you grew into youth scorned for the things you had no power to change. My heart warmed when you fell in love and found someone who saw the things others hated as beautiful and unique. I rejoiced when in the end, even though the strife was not over, you had grown to carry the burdens and move ahead.

R. L Stine, you stoked the horrors of my adolescence before I even discovered horror movies. I walked through Fear Street, underneath the blankets in the night with my flashlight as the only source of light. Even as darkness loomed and the voices in the books whispered in my head, I could never put you down until I knew the true story behind the mystery. I learned from you that an innocent smile and face did not mean kindness, and not everyone who was mean was dangerous. Looks can be deceiving, lies can cost lives, and the cost of the pain of death could haunt. I will return to you one day, pick you up and read, enjoying the nostalgia of the nightmares you brought me just by your words alone.

Then there is you, Silas; do you believe I have forgotten you? I read you at school, made so many notes, and broke down so many scenes that I became you, in a way, assimilating your pain and your loss of faith when the world turned against you. I watched you grow out of your despair as you took in a new gift, wrapped in blankets with hair like gold. Her exuberance absorbed your bitterness, and from the pain, you suffered came what you considered to be your greatest blessing. I hope to get to where you did soon enough, taking the lows in my life in stride as I hope for the blessings in the future. You were a lesson, and each visit I pay to your pages, I find new things from your story, and I always keep learning.

David Baldacci, I haven’t read much, to be honest, but you introduced me to thrillers and mystery as I dived into the world of King and Maxwell. That was a ride I regularly visit, even though I know the whole story already. King, I watched your life get ruined in a plan that you never understood, and misunderstanding cost you honour and years, but when the truth needed to be seen you decided to step forward. Michelle, I always saw you as brilliant but a slob, then soon, in the most shocking twist, I finally understood your need to live in a mess. Your mind chose to repress a memory in a way that looked slobbish to the outside world and even to you. It didn’t sink in at the time, but afterwards, it began to make sense. I celebrated with you as you fought to overcome your past and trauma and admired your courage throughout the entire journey. I am heartbroken you came to an end, but you are always on my shelf, and I can always visit whenever I feel the need.

I could go on forever because the memories are endless, beautiful and painful at the same time. Not all of you have been good for me, but I have grown a great deal from reading your words. I have travelled hundred years into the future, I have gone back in time to dukedoms, I didn’t even know what that meant at first. I have gone to realms, moved through time portals, and watched people conjure energy from the air. I have seen the impossible, all from the comfort of your pages. From my little bed, you’ve taken me to America, I have seen some life from South Africa and learned about different cultures.

My love for hearing and telling stories came from the years I spent reading from you. Now, I dream to be the thing that helped me to dream, a writer. I want to craft from my mind stories that teach lessons, that take people to places they have never physically been. I want to impact another person’s life, just as you impacted mine. One word at a time.