Peace Symphony

Let us begin at the beginning. I met Peace Anyiam-Osigwe when I was sixteen. But she met me when I was already two years old. I had met her on the page of ThisDay. Someone had interviewed her and she was talking about her life in England and the Africa Movie Academy Awards. She looked calm, mild and charming in the pictures they had put there. There was something intimidating about her, though: her background. I tried to envy her. I tried to hate her. I felt she was an opportunist. That she had everything flowing for her. I felt she didnt bother so much like I did. I wanted to know why most people were blessed than the others. It was until the year we started communicating that I realised that there are certain things one doesnt need to know. That successful men and women see hell before getting to heaven. Sometimes, it doesnt make sense wen we only tell the good sides of the stories to where we are today. Maybe, I was quick enough to conclude that her life was completely rosy, that she got everything that she wanted. That even by a snap of the finger, she could command anyone to believe in her dreams and aspirations. All these things I realized as soon as I pushed hard to know her. For some that I spoke to she was inaccessible, distant and unreachable and each time I heard people say that, I would burst into hysterical laughter. To them, they were being realistic and here I was, talking so much already about a woman I barley knew. Knowing my kind of person, I didnt need to know here for ages before understanding her.