-by Ibukunoluwa Adekoya, MA

Each time you laughed and said, “that girl is too dramatic.”

Those weren’t just words; they were real.

They cut into her soul to the point that she would hold her feelings in.

They weren’t just words, they were real.

Each time you stopped suddenly and asked:

“Can we change the subject?”

Those weren’t just words; they were real.

It meant that real meaningful talk wasn’t welcome in our gatherings.

They weren’t just words, they were real.

Each time you thought she was out of earshot,

And you called her that funny derogatory name,

Those weren’t just words; they were real.

Your words grew wings and flew into open air.

Soon, others repeated those words like they were compliments.1

They weren’t just words, they were real.

Each time you saw her praying with tears,

And she was clapping and yelling,

And you said she was just putting up a show,

Those weren’t just words; they were real.

She even wanted to speak in tongues

But she feared she’d be too noisy for you.2

Your words weren’t just words, they were real.

They silenced her. They were real.

Each time you said, “what’s the big deal?

Wasn’t I just complimenting your good English?”

Those weren’t just words; they were real.

They meant that her people in

An English-as-official-language African country

Didn’t speak English that was as good enough as yours.

These weren’t just words; they were real.

When that Black man got killed by a policeman,

And an uproar broke out around the world during a pandemic,

And you said, “Isn’t it just one Black life?”

Those weren’t just words; they were real.

When you prayed, “Lord, I don’t want to be part of her culture, it’s too tedious.”

Those weren’t just words; they tore at her self-worth. They were real.

Those words were not just words;

They carried power.

They were nails and thorns,

That pierced the listener’s heart.

Although these words may have been well-meaning,

They were spoken carelessly,

And they caused hurt to the receiver.

Receiver dear, acknowledge the hurt;

Yet, know that you have a healer,

One who’s been pierced hands, feet and side

To make you a whole new person.

You can be sure that if you give Him those words,

He will heal your broken heart.

He will infuse in you His Spirit

Who has the superpower to forgive.

Speaker dear, your words did damage,

No matter what your intentions were.

A man after God’s own heart once said:

“God hath spoken once, twice have I heard this,

That power belongeth unto God.

Also unto thee, O Lord, belongeth mercy:

For thou renderest to every man according to his work.”3

Each time you think, act, or speak, do it with love.

And it will land graciously on the ears that receive it,

With the grace given to you from God.

Footnotes

1 Dixon, S. (2015). Reconstructing cultural identities: The lived experiences of Jamaican Canadian immigrant women of Pentecostal faith. (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). University of Calgary, Calgary, Canada.

2 Adekoya, I., & Sinacore, A. L. (2020). The career development experiences of Nigerian economic immigrants in Canada: Reliance on Christian spirituality and personal agency. Manuscript submitted for publication.

3 Psalms 62:11-12

Ibukunoluwa Adekoya, MA., is a doctoral student in Counselling Psychology at McGill University. She is also a student leader in the Graduate Christian Fellowship within InterVarsity at McGill University. Her research area focuses on immigrants’ experiences while transitioning to Canadian society. During her leisure, Ibukun writes songs for YouTube, poems for Facebook and long journal entries. In 2019, Ibukun was selected to be a student speaker at World Assembly, a conference hosted by the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students.