Serene 

by Myra Matovu

Hi, my name’s Serene. It means calm, tranquil. At least that’s what my mum said. She called it a beautiful name. So I do try to live up to it.

But I fail - a lot of the time. 

And when I do, they look up at me. With those eyes, oh those eyes. Like I’m a specimen, being packed around one scope. Tell me what I can do, to get them to stop.

Mama, tell me.

If only she were here. If only she’d tell me what to do. Even a faint whisper would be enough. But she’s not here, and never will be again.

I miss her voice, the scent of jasmine oil in her hair. Even now I can feel it - it’s palpable. One moment it’s within my grasp, the next it’s not. 

Oh Mama, reach out. Do you see me? Do you feel me?

Those eyes. Take them away - those judging eyes. 

Beauty

By Amna Ahmed

“Beautiful, fine, leng” - all these words replaying in my head. Getting told them all the time is meant to be flattering. But honestly speaking - it does nothing. Because the more these words are thrown at me, the more the hatred grows towards myself. My real self, I mean. 

Having to live up to these names - it’s so draining. 

Everyone asks “but why are you so avoidant, if it’s all you want?” But really it’s not as simple as it seems. I yearn for the feeling of love. I want to be seen for more than just these words, that are held above my head like a rope making it oh so difficult to even catch a breath. 

Waking up at insane hours just to get a few compliments - it’s my fuel for the day. And as bad as it is… it makes me feel good. Even if it’s just for a couple of hours, at least I won’t have that constant voice telling me I need to do more, telling me I have to change myself just to be loved.

And as cringe as it is to say sometimes, I really wish someone would take my feelings into consideration. “She's not just a pretty face” they say as they see the number 9 on plastered on all of my results. Yet not one person took the time to get to know me. Not just the things I’m  interested in but things that keep me up at night or even things that consume my thoughts, my opinions on society, nothing. You can be surrounded by so many people yet feel so alone, and I know that feeling too well. So many people spend time admiring me, but no one cared or even bothered to understand me. 



 I catch myself wondering why people stare but I can't help but question if they were ever looking at me at all. Beauty may be my label, but it does not describe me at all, it is not my purpose, nor my greatest achievement, and it most definitely is not my whole story. 

How has it come to the point where appearance is all everyone thinks about? 

Being beautiful is having a beautiful soul. Because no matter how attractive you are, the second you become a horrible person, you immediately turn ugly, and that blooming flower in your heart - it slowly begins to wither.

Brave

By Amna Ahmed

Born to be true to myself, forced to be brave. Always told, better seen and not heard. But what they don’t know is that to be seen is to be brave - to adjust to bearing children, to tending to my spouse’s every need. Is that all I really exist for? To be brave is to be shunned, hidden by the shadows and values of my ancestors, is what they all say. 

So today, I decide that I must be my own kind of brave.

To be brave is to be who you are, with no fear of judgement. To be brave is to live for today and not to fear the woes of tomorrow. So for now, I will be brave in my own kind of way. 

I shouldn’t have to live up to double standards. I came here for more than that. To be brave is to stand up. Now I realise that courage consists of many traits, not just the absence of fear.

So today, we all can be brave, brave in our own ways - whatever that might mean to YOU.