A letter to Child Q 

My heart feels heavy today. It has felt heavy for a while. I think this time must feel heavy for many of us right now. It feels trite to say this, however I must believe this will pass and we will feel a bit lighter at some point. Although, there is no evidence to suggest this, I believe it will happen. I guess this is what living in faith is all about.  

I am not sure if an introduction is required here, as this is my first public/private letter. 

My name is Dr Yewande and I enter this space as a Yorùbá elder and cannabis historian.I extend my love and good wishes towards you and your family. I call on the ancestors to guide my thoughts and intentions as I honour and centre you in my writing. My main wish is that your anonymity remains intact, and you heal towards wellness and happiness soon.   

I felt sad when I heard about your ordeal on the news. I was not sure how to engage in the discussion. This feeling was further compounded when I received a phone call from someone based in the United States, who wanted to come to the UK to open a CBD shop. The following day, I got a text from a colleague who was interested to read my analysis on the matter of Child Q. That is when I realised that I wanted to focus my good intentions towards you, create a space of love and healing for the black community and shine a spotlight on the issues which converged to produce the events of that day. I want to do this with insight, and compassion,  which means this will be an organic conversation and I will wear many hats along the way. When the time is right for you, I hope you get to read my blog posts someday.   

Today, I am drawn to meditate on touch because you were not treated with due care or compassion. I share my prayer poem about healing touch with you.  

pray may my hands only do good today 

my hands can make a bad day seem like play 

may my hands become invisible  

as I sculpt heavy thoughts  

into light deeds  

invincible 

bright deeds create 

the soul glow 

buoyant 

as we journey 

through life’s  

purple labyrinth 

forever fragrant green 

kaleidoscope   

may my hands  

grace the lives 

of the young 

who flow 

into my life 

to hold 

space for 

young hearts 

to blossom 

in vigour   

may  

the hands 

of the 

young  

hold space 

for me 

to rest 

my weary 

heart   

may we remember 

to gift our hands  

to each other 

one-by-one 

just because 

we know no 

other way 

to be 

àṣẹ  

Copyright Yewande Okuleye 2022