The seas have been rough these past few years, my Eden in peril, my Love drowned in tears. But over the horizon, a ship came to see - “Is this the one that would rescue me?”

My Métier!

Oh, how beautiful she was; or was it just a fleeting mirage?

I was still rich in hope you see. So I kissed my family good-bye and our convoy separated at sea. We ventured forth, the skies were blue, an island awaited, bold and new.

But storms arose along the way; the price of dreams we had to pay.

I watched a storm take a Captain away. i carry guilt to this day.

Lightning struck in the middle of the storm. Turns out, my colour was a “con". It didn’t matter, storms move on.

On another night, my brother signalled my radio,

“Lightning struck here. Our mother’s nearly gone. There's nothing we can do but hold on. It’s in God's hands now, we can't turn back. Don’t change course, stay on track. Rowing home would mean we’ve given up. Keep Faith alive; we have no choice.”

I still remember hearing fear through his calm, stoic voice. By sheer luck, we got through that night.