Oluwadunsin Deinde-Sanya: Ah! Music

Ah music! Melody – sweet sweet melody.

It is with teary eyes that I write this. I am lying on my bed, cuddling myself. My knees are brought up high to my chest. My hands are folded underneath my head, my throat seems clogged with emotions, I sniff silently and there’s this prickly sensation at the far corners of my eyes as salty water slowly moves across the bridge of my nose.

Oh please don’t go away, this is not a tragedic post. On the contrary, I just want you to know how I feel.

Who said Music is food for the soul? He stated that with the wisdom of the gods.  Music is more than that; it is the air to my lungs, blood to my veins, the heart of my being. Am I hyperboling?

Music is my fairy godmother – taking me to balls I never imagined attending, wearing long dreadlocs, sparkling diamond shoes and flowing silk gown. It is a magical mat, floating me across the soothingly blue sea, It will slowly drift me to shore where he stands waiting- in printed shirt, worn unbuttoned, flying over bare chest – his arms outstretched.

This is what Johnny Drille does to me. He takes me to the woods where Music stands playing the violin, his skin is shiny – light dancing merrily on it. The ground is covered with dry leaves and the Nightingale sings in perfect synchronicity with the serene melody of the violin. The wind is purring contentedly and the air is filled with the scent of the Queen of the nights. Johnny takes me to where Music sings – its voice tingling my earlobes while it gently strokes my arm and kisses my forehead.

This is what Shania Twain does to me. She takes me to my wedding night where Music slowly leads me to the room, the bed is covered in white sheets and red roses are sprinkled at every nook and cranny. Music is singing at the background and the lights are blue – warm, romantic. The full moon silently walks into the room trying so hard to be inconspicuous; as though scared it might interrupt as Music unclads me, our skin golden beneath the glare of the blueness of the room . Music looks into my eyes, sucks in my breath as his tasty tongue melts into mine. Then Music places us on the soft bed, tracing every exposed flesh. So long, too long before we fall apart. Content.

This is what Timi Dakolo does to me. He places Music and I together in a little bungalow facing the sea. Our little house is charming; it has trees in it and a beautiful garden in front. Our twin boys are running round the house and our daughter is dressing her black doll, our little baby is in my arms, she flashes her toothless gum and her face is deeply dimpled as she shrieks with infectious laughter. The rabbits are digging holes, the dogs are running after the boys- barking and spraying sand and the house is filled with joy and laughter. Music then calls the family together, and as we sit drinking from the coconut, Music plays the guitar, sings silently while flashing his brilliantly white teeth.

This is where Celine Dion takes me to. She motions for me to follow her, then she takes me back to Twilight where Music sits clad in glory , beneath the foamy clouds – but Music is not a vampire, although he is too beautiful to behold and infallible. Our love is inseparable, he takes my hands and shows me off, he looks into my eyes and tears slowly flow down his face. Music makes me like him; pure, undiluted. Here, Music can hear my thoughts and I can hear his, we do not communicate through words – it is in our eyes, in the loud thup-thup of our hearts, in the screaming silence of our unspoken words.

I know you do not like love stories, you say they are too fictional at times, don’t worry, I might concur with you. But don’t go away yet, this is not a love story.

Let me tell you what Travis Greene does to me. He takes me to a room where Music stands as a spirit. He weakens my knees and makes me fall on this cold floor. He makes me bow my head and as I tremble slightly, Music says to me ” talk, just pour it all out, He’s the only one who listens, tell Him how you got so mad yesterday, even when you know what anger does to you. Tell Him you went to church yesterday, but while the pastor preached, you were thinking of the many horrible things you could have said to that annoying being. Right now, you are ashamed you got so angry, you feel guilty for nothing in particular “. Music says ‘tell Him you lied yesterday, tell Him you committed fornication. He would never judge you. He would not call you dumb, just because you couldn’t answer few questions. He understands”.

Nathaniel Bassey doesn’t make me talk. He only takes me to where Music sits – at the right hand of Onise Iyanu. He takes me to another realm; where a mightily bright light radiants, a stairway rests on the earth and reaches the Heavens, where angels descend and ascend on it. He takes me to a place where words are not enough, where your heart is so full and there are emotions that words cannot describe. A realm of praise – here, your soul connects, your tears do the talking. Nathaniel places me amidst multitude of worshippers, robed in white, raising our hands and voices to Elohim -singing songs of praise.

But Sinach makes Music question me, Music is sitted in His throne of glory- the earth His footstool. He stares at me with furrowed brows and worried look, he says “why are people scared to communicate with me, I’m the easiest person to talk to, am I not? Why do they prefer to talk to humans when I’m the only one who can solve all of their problems? When I’m the miracle worker and way maker.” Then Music smiles, comprehension dawning on His face “Oh! They think they are sinners, that they have committed grievous offences and are unworthy of my forgiveness? How silly, do they think I am judgmental like humans? Who else would I forgive if not humans? Music makes me realise He loves me – unconditionally, even with all my flaws. Music says “you are made in my splitting image, even though you fall a lot and make mistakes, don’t worry, I am still working on you – when I am done, I will show you off to the world”.

Frank Edward makes me realize I love God more than anything. He makes me say these words over and over again “Father, there can be no me without you”.

Ah Music! Like wine to satiate my thirst, like bread to quench my hunger. He drives warmth down to my fingertips. He takes me to wonderland where I have no worries, he makes me walk down the streets oblivious of stares and sneers, he makes me dance the African dance even with a stiff waist and I can do the ballet though I’m not flexible. Music gives me a free world where I can soar, a land of colours and rainbow. Music makes me fall in love – with God, with me, with you.

Ah Music! Melody – sweet sweet melody.

This is what the cassava and banana singers do to me… go ahead, complete it.

Photo Credit: Mykola Kravchenko | Dreamstime