BEB: Delicacy Obscured

By Fatoumata Kaba, Artwork by Layla Gorgoni

There is a pause

A deafening pause

They scrunch their brows

They squint their eyes 

And your heart drops. 

Your name.

Next on the list and about to be butchered.

You want to correct them

But your tongue,

Forced down by the clamps of anxiety and embarrassment

Leaves you incapable of uttering any words beyond “that’s fine”

Maybe you get older and shorten your name to a nickname

Maybe you adopt an easier pronunciation

Yet the “that’s interesting” and the ingenuine “how unique”’s still beat at you internally, 

Somehow reminding you that you are othered

For how foolish must they be

To not recognize how deep your name goes, 

Connecting your existence and identity back to so many others 

Your name, 

Delicate like a puzzle, each letter conjoining to create a purposeful portrait

A puzzle 

That could so easily be destroyed by hasty erroneous pronunciations

Without purpose the moment any letter is neglected 

For how foolish must they be to not recognize how far-reaching your name is,

Like a bell,

Each delicate syllable a chime to awaken the ancestors, 

To amplify the history and love of your culture

For how defeated must you be to allow disruption of such essence

Your name.

Interesting,

Unique

Delicate

Yours.

To be owned.

Protected.

Cherished. 

Like all things delicate in this world.