NdukuOutLoud

Jot down the first thing that comes to your mind.

“Jot” . I haven’t heard or used the word in a long time. So I went out looking, not the meaning- I knew that. But it’s origin. Turns out “jot” (noun) traces back to the 15th century, borrowed into Latin from Greek. But what does that even mean- originated in the 15 century. Was it officially translated then? Did it emerge from some conversation centuries ago?

Words-where do they truly begin?

Lately, language has become more than just a curiosity.

I traveled upcountry, back to the place that carries my roots, and it hit me. Well that’s an overstatement. I didn’t hit me- that I don’t fully speak my mother tongue- I’ve always known. But it’s different this time around. As a child,it never mattered. I was allowed to exist in a space where that language wasn’t a necessity. But now, I feel the weight of unspoken disappointment.

Suddenly “I understand, but don’t speak” doesn’t cut it anymore.

But despite the discomfort, the visit has been beautiful.

I take walks, and the landscape is beautiful-the endless greens,the winding paths. The air is lighter here. Of course, I am the only one taking photos as everyone here is indifferent. Used to these. It’s home.

But that’s the thing- it is home. And I realize, that belonging doesn’t always come through words. It can come through witnessing, feeling.

Maybe I’ll learn the words someday. Maybe I’ll never need to.