The lines on her face; a memoir of her journey
If only the photographers’ paid attention
They wouldn’t edit her story into another’s.
Those lines; accolades for surviving the scorching sun,
Celebration of laughter’s that touched the ears and
Tears that made her eyes all shades of crimson
The lines on her face; a memoir of her journey
If only the photographers’ knew
They’d have left those lines to tell their tales.
Those lines; an insignia of an orphan’s pride
A journey of grit, upholding honour,
rejecting shortcuts and staying true.
The lines on her face; a story left unsaid
If only we paid attention
We would have mined strength instead of shaming it.
By Liza Chuma Akunyili on .
Exported from Medium on February 2, 2026.
Create with Me
Do you have a project my creativity can help enhance? Let us work together to birth it.