Young Africans who’s social media pages, blogs, Instagram accounts and websites I visit very often. For inspiration, for wisdom, entertainment, laughter..and love.
I love girls girls girls girls…..
If you know about anything Nigerian, anything even slightly Nigerian is bound to hit you full force with some tenacity, leaving you incredulous wondering ..what happened? Remember Rise Africa? The site where young Africans were flocking, devouring provocative articles, amazing pictures, giving their opinion in a safe and valued place. That space is now known as Ezibota.
Beulah is the founder of Ezibota.Ezibota began as Rise Africa—an emotional appeal from African youth around the world.
“Ezibota is refreshing. It’s an opportunity for young Africans to discuss on a global scale the realities that frustrate us, the stories that give us hope, the individuals in our lives who have crafted who we are and where we are going. I enjoy this space because it connects me to people who I otherwise might have never met.”
Beulah knows no bounds, generous to a fault, always polite and fighting to provide a space for young Africans to communicate. In addition to having completed a Master’s degree in Clinical Psychology, working as the Director of Technology, Communications and Community Outreach with an organization in Philadelphia, she is at the helm of this movement, exploring, promoting, improving and encouraging all things by young Africans.
Tenacity is what this beautiful woman embodies.She has a vision, and she will not let anyone stop her. I wouldn’t! What she is working towards is glorious and I am here for the ride! 🙂
She makes me feel immense hope for young Africans, that indeed we can, that our voices matter. That you can always keep a cool head when interacting with people. That you can keep your eye on the goal and what you are working on is allowed to evolve.
Hope, is what Beulah embodies for me.
Writer. Self-healer. Womanist. Is how this woman describes herself. Her poetry is astounding and she makes no excuses for it. (another Nigerian by the way, cue Nigerian movie music 🙂 Love my Naija peeps)
the fullness of our lips
the coils in our hair
the rolling of our eyes
the loudness in our laugh
the resilience in our move
the sun on our skin
the love in our voice
the shake in our hips
the dance in our soul
the owning of our beauty
the power in our narrative
the revolutionary self-love
the pride in our being
look at us glowing!
He said my writing does not show him Africa. Keep in mind this American man has never visited any country in Africa. He said I was writing about Africans driving and listening to Sade in air-conditioned cars. He just couldn’t identify with such. He said it like I should apologize for ever portraying my people as some modern day normal Africans. It is as though if Africans are not killing each other or dying of a disease; then our stories are not valid. As a Nigerian, I have never witnessed war and I know what listening to Sade in an air-conditioned car while in crazy Lagos traffic feels like, yet an American who has never stepped foot in my continent tried explaining my country to me. He said, “I am sorry, this is just not believable….” and then as I tried to hold my anger, I understood the ‘burden’ of writing an African story.
The anger most African writers feel when others seem to know so damn much about our own motherland. The terrible idea that Africans are a certain way is disheartening. I remember how my friend in Lagos laughed as I told her about the American. She laughed loud at his foolishness and cursed him in Yoruba. You cannot tell me what an African city looks like, you cannot tell me what a Nigerian city looks like. You cannot tell me how to write about Africa only if it shows her people as helpless, only if it feeds into your stereotype. How can a foreigner tell us about our own land? They want to shake their head, read only about struggles and discuss it in their book clubs. The audacity of a foreigner to tell me how to write about my people. – Ijeoma Umebinyuo
Who is not stamping their feet in agreement? I’m nodding greedily at her poems, eyes scanning, taking in more and more. (Often screaming at my screen as well…heart palpitating.How did she know this is how I feel?)
Her writing makes me feel alive, makes me feel like hse was taking notes at something I thought as I was day dreaming on the train. That everything I write..matters.
The list continues! Stay tuned! 🙂
Fame, young hot women / men, your entourage, your yacht waiting off the coast of Mozambique – this might happen after flexing your creative powers, BUT first how to get started.