Rhythm of Rage will take you through the rhythms of life. Sometimes life isn’t always fair. Sometimes we must walk in the rain before there is shelter. Inside every human being there is a measure of hope. It does not matter where you start in life; you have the birth right to dream and to be happy. Rhythm of Rage details the life of one woman’s struggles while growing up, her life was jeopardized several times and on several occasions she was close to dying, a victim of child abused and domestic violence. She felt ashamed, defeated, deeply wounded and became a master at hiding scars. In order to be accepted; she describes how she too learned to wear a mask. When wearing the mask became a way of life, she lost her joy, and her desire to love as her rage and heartbeat became one.
Reflections of Grace
Rhythm of Rage encompasses how one woman struggled from birth to victory. Every soul has been given an assignment before the foundations of the earth. Sometimes an assignment can entail different phases of unfortunate circumstances resulting in anger and escalating into rage like mine. While growing up my life was spared from death on several occasions. I was burned, abused, abandoned, as I struggled through poverty. When I was going through my worst in life, I felt ashamed and defeated. I felt deeply wounded, and I became good at hiding my scars. In order to be accepted, I learned to wear a mask. When I walked away from my marriage, the cords of love, laughter, hurt, pain, betrayal, and deception revealed this mask of sorrow. Along the journey I’ve discovered that many women, I myself, adapt to living behind the mask, and sometimes this can go on for many years, before there’s an awakening through divine intervention. In search of love and protection, I have only come to find that there is nowhere to turn but to that light, God.
“Lionel and I were shaking and crying because we didn’t know what to do, and Rocky pulled out the Bible and read to us. Trying to comfort us he said, “If it isn’t your time to die, then God won’t take you.” Then we heard our mother screaming, and falling as she tried to come up the stairs. When she called my name, “Naima!” I panicked. I was afraid to answer her—even when she started cussing and demanding that I go to her. Rocky said, “You better go.” He unlocked the bedroom door to let me out. I went to the edge of the stairs. My mother saw my shadow and said, “Come here, heifer.” When I went to her, she grabbed me and held me in front of her. We were standing halfway up the stairs on the landing, and Raymond was standing downstairs in the middle of the dining room. He was aiming his machine gun at us. Then he pulled the trigger. I could see the fire from the bullets coming straight at us. My mother and I screamed for him to stop. The bullets went by us and ricocheted into the ceiling above our heads. My mother and I ran upstairs to Rocky’s room, and we jumped off the balcony to get outside alive.”