Written by Gracey Eunice
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I am not a coffee drinker but I prefer black coffee,one that gets you starring in your mug and wonder if it will really go down your throat.It’s good for thinking especially deep thinking.
Now this is personal,you may want to take sides but whichever side you take I said it’s personal.See, my brother ain’t a football fan, I don’t think he even knows one international player though he does know Allan Wanga because he is a home boy and I know he’ll definately support FC Leopards because he can’t help it,that’s not my problem.My problem is when he’s in a group of football die hards and you’ll here them say “you don’t watch football? you’re not a man” “You watch soaps? damn! what will your girl do?”.Now,I wouldn’t term that as holy judgement because the other day my three year old cousin had to go through a blood clotting pain after a deep cut by soda a bottle. The way he fought his tears back was much more painfull than the cut itself and his mother stood by his side and boldly said to his face “wewe ni mwanaume Jim,jikaze usilie”.Again I didn’t want to break his mothers heart by telling Jim to just let pain be pain.I have more conversations in my head than I do in real life and sometimes the voices in my head grow wild and they won’t let you settle,so I walk around and have more conversations in my head,you fight demons with demons so I pick my headphones and head to the Bens.Today at Ben’s place I almost lose my sanity to the hands of pain.The house is full of people weeping,I hate telling people I know how they feel because honestly I don’t but I’ve lost loved ones before and I know how deep the pain can run.He lost his mother in a tragic road accident and he sat in their mainhouse staring at the ceilling.I can feel his heart rise and fall and the rate of his pulse beat is worrying,Iam no doctor but I really don’t need a stethoscope or syringes in my hands to tell that  ones breathing is no normal breathing and imagine that his pale face is his complexion.He’s avoiding everyones eyes and only nods to the “pole Ben” people are throwing at him.I don’t even think he’s here,Iam a wonderer,I’ve been to places,far continents and back at a seating and I know when one is looking at you and his mind is miles away.I move close and hold his hand,he doesn’t look at me not that I want him to,he has already seen too many eyes with nothing but pity so I go ahead to whisper in his ear “cry it out Ben,it eases the pain”.The look in his eyes is fear,fear of the eyes around watching him but in the corners of his dump eyes are tears he just can’t stop now so he breaks down  in my arms and cries passionately.I don’t mean ‘passion’,but the way he trembles and chokes by his own tears is a clear indication that alot had built inside him.The people in the room are watching,amazed.I know that look,it’s a warning on my side and a sign of weakness on his side but why crucifise him for a sin that is really not a sin?
A man shouldn’t cry,society has made laws and rules that could be the grave to the Sons,denying them to see the Sun and we nature them like it’s just so right forgetting that the Sun needs the Sons.girl child,she should wail in public and it’s so okay but a Son’s tear is sacred under the Sun and judgement placed on the son child is not standardised giving no room for sun in his life.Being a man,he has to watch everything he’s in..eat as a man,talk as a man,work like a man..what is even that? so a son is to work his ass out in the sun,not talk about his feelings in the sun and never show his tears to the sun,then what?
I cry a lot not like a hobby or talent but if there’s a feeling so relieving under the sun is the feeling after that real cry from the inside,and you build this up in the name of being a ‘man’? tell me,does being a man stop you from feeling pain? from sorrow or death?
tears is crystal pure liquid,a little salty making it so healthy. It makes you a crying baby? naah,I ain’t saying sons should wail out loud in the sun of course that will raise an alarm being that their voices are deep and hoarse,I’m talking bout letting go of that tear and letting go of the pain inside.I mean,what’s so wrong with letting pain be pain? live a life under the sun as a son and not a “man”.I ain’t asking,I could be wondering out just so loud. Seeing that son child in pain,depressed and hurting I wouldn’t hold him back in the name of being a ‘man’, I’ll give him the sun.It almost sounds like faking which I so hate but it seems it’s what has been made to be,to be believed and lived.
If not being “a man” makes the son see the Sun longer, then I’ll let the son not be a ‘man’ and see the Sun more.

Let the sons see the sun.

About the author


Gracey Eunice

Find what you love and let it kill you.
If my words ain't shit,neither am I.

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