ALAJOTA. By: FeezahWrites.

stacyspeaks

If you’re reading this, the fishes in the Atlantic are already having a feast off my flesh. I remember winning many ‘is she the winner’ dancing competitions at birthday parties as a kid.

I remember watching a whole lot of dance reality shows and imitating every single step they took. I remember my friends giving me the nickname ‘Kaffy’ after former Guinness world record holder for ‘longest dance party’. I remember dancing naked in the rain, filled with ecstasy.

I remember getting high off dancing, just dancing. I remember dancing while eating, bathing and sometimes, even sleeping. I wanted to study theatre arts and then proceed to become a professional dancer, Oh Lord, how much I wanted to be a professional dancer! I never recovered from the trauma I suffered from the words ‘You’re going to study medicine. It’s not my daughter that would become an ‘alajota’.

I pleaded and explained that I could become very successful. I screamed about how much I hated medicine. I rolled on the floor begging to be allowed to follow my passion, but my parents weren’t ready to have an ‘alajota’ daughter.

Alajota literally means a person who dances for money. It appears that my parents saw this as a taboo.
At the moment I’m writing this note, I’m a sixth year student of medicine on a cgpa of 3.9 in an extremely prestigious college of medicine. But for some reason, I find myself writing this note.

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Mummy, I passed out 5 different times at the mere sight of blood. Daddy, at the moment I’m writing this, I’m crying because I remember the man with a severely fractured tibia whose leg I had to watch getting amputated last month. I really hate how hospitals smell and I can’t stand the sight of a dead or dying person. I really, honestly dread the nights I stayed up reading and of course, dancing.


I was about jumping in the sea when I stopped to have a rethink. What the hell was I about to do? Was it really worth it? And then, I checked my phone to see a text that read ‘better stop the rubbish you’re dancing. Nobody is interested in watching you. You need to make a first class from your final exams’. I put my phone down and took out this note to finish it. I’m jumping into the sea, but I hope you never have to do same too. I’m the last person who should be telling you all these, but I really hope you listen to me. I hope you get the strength to overcome your problems.

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I hope you can listen to the voice in your head that keeps encouraging you to keep keeping on. You’ll be alright, I promise. Don’t give in to depression, please. Fight for your happiness and please, never give up.

I hope this smile on my face softens your heart. I’m sorry I had to jump, but don’t you worry about me. I promise, my bones are dancing with the fishes.

Written by: FeezahWrites.

Photo source: Google Chrome.

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If you’re reading this, the fishes in the Atlantic are already having a feast off my flesh. I remember winning many ‘is she the winner’ dancing competitions at birthday parties as a kid. I remember watching a whole lot of dance reality shows and imitating every single step they took. […]
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