There Are No Shortcuts In Life (a shoplifter’s story)

Today I witnessed a young lady (probably in her early 20s) being caught red-handed shoplifting, and was arrested on the spot. When she was kept in the store’s “naughty corner” awaiting the police, customers gave her judgmental looks and the staff passed very hurtful comments.

Just the other day I had looked at all the security measures retail shops take these days, from clothes tags, surveillance cameras, guards by the door and much more, and wondered how much these cost to set up and maintain, but figured far lesser than being prone to shoplifting.

In that compromised position she was a criminal, so the society had every right to look at her like one. The shop staff that smile each day and sell clothes they can’t even afford themselves felt almost cheated by her, mocked almost and taken for fools because if she thought they were any smarter, she would have figured they’d catch her.1320985

She was committed enough to almost find a way to get away with such a crime at such a sophisticated store, she must be very smart, only if she had directed her smartness at a different angle. Shoplifting is a crime, and even the justice system treat it as such, so grabbing a pair of Luella boots results in a criminal record as same as hijacking.

I just wonder why she did it, it wasn’t poverty because she wasn’t bare-footed. Maybe she and her girls were going to a party, and her crush was going to be there as well and so she really wanted to make a statement, her parents told her they can’t afford a new pair of shoes at the moment and so she opted to “plan B”, and now that she’s all alone in a prison cell she’s thinking was it really worth it? My friends, will they even come see me? And as for him, does he even know all the trouble I went through for him? Does he even care? And my parents, what will they say when they hear I’ve been arrested for shoplifting? What will I say to them? How will I even look at them?

The lesson here is; “there are no shortcuts in life”. There is nothing wrong with wanting the finer things in life, but you have to be willing to work for them. Actions have consequences, so be very careful of what you say or do because in the end it will come back to you in the very same way you had intended it for the next person.

Amen.

About Ubuntu

When I joined WordPress I never introduced myself properly, my apologies, I’d like to rectify my mistake, hopefully it’s not too late.

Ubuntu is my legacy. Most artists’ earlier work is never discovered, and I’d be dammed if the same happened to mine, so I’ve decided to store my stories, articles and poetry here, to make it easier for future literature scholars to discover them some day, and share them with a larger audience hopefully.

I have struggled a lot, from my parents leaving me to be raised by grandparents who never truly wanted to, as I struggle with sharing a sense of belonging to this very day. To living with my dad and stepmom, daddy was an alcoholic so he never truly was around and stepmom drew a line so vivid between “step” and “mom” that even a blind person could see it. Needless to say it didn’t work out in the end, so my aunt took me in, but reminded me every single day that nobody else wanted me, manipulated my gratitude and expected to be sung praises to like she was in fact God, The Book Of Yeezus. Mom only returned around my 10th grade, she and dad had reconciled by then, but he was then unemployed due to his alcoholism which significantly consumed him, so he was a nightmare to live with, not only were we that poor, but we were also abused, so picture being kicked in your “empty” stomach for no bloody reason at all.

Long story short, it is indeed a miracle to be sitting behind a computer screen and writing articles instead of being in a grave, or facing time in a maximum security prison. The day I had to grace prison, the victim dropped all charges. He gave us a second chance, as God did in countless instances that my crew “collided” with other crews and we came back in one piece. And God gave me a second chance, when he ensured my absence the day my close friend stabbed a man to death and was sentenced 25 to life.

My greatest tales are my greatest shames. No one has ever truly understood me, my high school teachers told me I had no potential to be anything at all, fellow students constantly mocked me and ostracized me, that loneliness has stuck with me to this very day, so much that in tertiary I only said about 10 words in a 3-year whole course, and in every job I’ve ever had I’d just read my book peacefully during lunch breaks that eventually co-workers would get me fired.

I’m currently unemployed, so this blog is to keep busy, make new friends and prevent insanity. I will tell you a lot about myself, assume a lot about you and the world around us, if you have so much time to yourself as I do, you happen to become very “creative”, trust me. Hopefully someone out there will relate, even it’s just one person, I will have fulfilled my duty.

I dream big, too big, and I want everyone with dreams as big as mine to know that they are not crazy, and to not let non-dreamers discourage them anyhow, even if it’s your best friend, lover or even your mama, they can’t tell you what you can or cannot be, the world is your oyster.

And to my dad, Rest in Peace Cowboy, we have forgiven you, forgive yourself as well. To my late son, daddy loves you so much, and he would have climbed mountains and swum with sharks just so you could have one good ass life, Rest in Peace young solder.

And to the rest of the world, I appreciated you reading this to these very last words, and hopefully it’s not the last time.

Thank you so much, and my apologies again for not doing this sooner.

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Like Father, Like Son

Every fiber in my being,
My flesh, my soul, my everything
Everything, my everything.

Death is greedy,
Selfish, ruthless, heartless

You died once,
I died every single night I dreamed of you, my son
With every though of darkness you faded with, my sun.

Extraction by surgical gloves,
Mama’s womb couldn’t conceive you,
Though her heart could,
Her heart, beat oceans every single night she drowned,
You drowned once,
Mama drowned every single night in the ocean of her pillows, her son
Upon discovering at dawn, there was no more sun.

Extraction by surgical gloves, my son
My reason to be, my sun
My sunlight, my reason to be
As soon as the sunset, I had no reason to be,
But bleed, internally, something not even surgeons could see.

Alone in this dark world,
Childless parent,
Heartless fate,
Worthless faith
All in vein, as the cold blood in my veins
And relentless pain.

He died once, I died eternally,
As the batted women who bled every single night internally,
As her womb that couldn’t bare the soul her heart could,
As the soul lacked tenacity to defy remorseless medical gloves,
And hold on to dear mama,
With love.