Finding My Voice in Sofia: A Self Review by Safa Alhassan

Sofia is a collection of eight poems that changed my life. Writing them was a moment of deep reflection and awakening. Through the process, I discovered new truths about myself and uncovered a deeper layer of love. I wrote Sofia at a very important time in my life. Every word represents something and it all came together perfectly to become what I think is the most emotional piece I've ever written. 

One question I often get when I write is, "What inspired you?" or "What inspired the title?" I remember being asked that a lot after my first short story, I Will Kill Femi. Strangely enough, no one asked me that about Sofia, and I’m grateful because I honestly wouldn’t have had a ready answer. But I took the time to sit with my thoughts and ask myself: What was I thinking? Not that I didn’t know what drove me to write it, but why did I choose to bring this particular reminder to life? Why did I immortalize a fleeting thought? Why didn’t I let it remain one of those random feelings that come and go?

Now, Sofia stands as an aching reminder of something that once felt so deep. But if it's love, as the poems so boldly proclaim, why does it ache?

On the cover is a beautiful young woman with a stern, composed expression. She looks well taken care of, with perfectly arched brows and a deep red lipstick that exudes confidence. Dressed in red, her dangling earrings match her outfit, adding to her striking presence. Her head is held high, and her long neck gives her the poise of a model. Her light complexion and attractive features are further highlighted by the thick hair visible at the front of her head, as her headtie, pushed back slightly, reveals just enough. The headtie is loosely styled, complementing her modest but elegant attire. Both her dress and headtie are red, adorned with beautiful floral patterns that reflect her beauty, youth, and self-assurance. Her slim figure and impeccable posture make her appear taller than most, with the grace of someone who could easily walk a runway.

The background is also deep red, just like the colour of her dress and adding to the intensity of the image. She seems to be staring ahead, perhaps moving toward something, though her brisk, unreadable gaze leaves her emotions a mystery. There’s a calmness about her, but what goes on in her mind? She represents me. My essence, my strength, my journey through love and life. She is a reflection of all that I am, a reminder that I, too, am an entity of love.

In Sofia, my voice is loud and unapologetic. I didn’t hold back or hesitate to express my feelings. I was infact shouting. Love, after all, is unashamed, and that's what makes us so vulnerable when we're in it. It strips you bare and leaves you exposed. Love is fierce and gentle, demanding that you approach it fearlessly, even foolishly. Yet, love itself is tricky. Not you, not your beloved, but love itself. It can seem cold, wearing a mask of indifference, but in reality, it burns hot. It can glitter and smell sweet, but beneath that, it can be ugly and painful. However, it doesn't stay that way, and that’s why love remains the most beautiful thing in the world.

Sofia, is very lighthearted, pure and innocent, yet there are layers beneath that happiness. Every poem carries a message, but it's subjective, open to whatever meaning you give it. Each word was carefully chosen, and you'll notice certain words repeated, as though calling out to a lover who isn’t quite listening. Perhaps the lover isn’t listening because the writer wasn’t entirely honest with herself, exaggerating feelings she didn’t fully understand. After all, you’re either in love or not. There's no middle ground.

When love is real and genuine, it’s difficult. Every action feels twice as intense because you merge with your beloved. You have to extend the love you feel for yourself to this new part of you; your other half. But then, the question arises: Does the writer love herself enough to make that extension? Is she truly opening herself up to become one with her beloved, or is she selfishly holding back, lying to herself to avoid guilt? Because to keep love to oneself and not share it seems like greed, doesn’t it?

Is fear the same as greed, though? It’s hard to tell sometimes. Being human is complicated because we’re constantly bombarded with conflicting thoughts, often unable to even make sense of them. The lines blur, and before you know it, you’re confusing pity for love, or guilt for affection. And here’s the irony: the name Sofia, of Greek origin, actually means Wisdom. So what is wisdom, really? I wouldn’t say loving truly has much to do with being wise. In fact, love often seems to belong to those who can close their eyes, shut their mouths, and turn a blind eye to not only their own flaws but also the faults of their beloved.

This reminds me of a quote from one of the best books I’ve ever read, The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese.

"Listening is talking to him; there's an eloquence to this kind of attentiveness; it's rare, and yet he's generous with it. He alone amongst all the people she knows uses his two ears and one mouth in that exact proportion. She loves him in a way she didn't know she could before. Love, she thinks isn't ownership, but a sense that where her body once ended, it begins anew in him, extending her reach, her confidence, and her strength. As with anything so rare and precious, it comes with a new anxiety: the fear of losing him, the fear of that heartbeat ceasing. That would mean the end of her" - Abraham Verghese, The Covenant of Water

It's been a year since I read and reviewed this book. How I felt back then isn't the same as how I feel now, as I write about it. I understand it more deeply and on a higher level, with a new perspective that I didn’t have before. It made me realize that love is a complex emotion, branching out into so many other feelings; anger, confusion, sadness, and maybe even hate.

What exactly do I mean? What do you think?

Sofia was born from a fleeting emotion, now frozen in time and forever intertwined with the beloved. I remember how I felt after writing the first draft. I was deeply skeptical about sharing it because I didn’t want to expose myself in such a vulnerable way. The emotions were overwhelming, and I dreaded people placing labels on them. I became very protective of my thoughts. These were my exact feelings, served up on a platter for free. This is a deeply personal experience. Do I even want to share it with you?

I took a deep breath and decided to let people catch a glimpse of it, to relate to it in their own way. But I've always known that once others become involved, the purity of things can get distorted. Humans are complicated, often bringing their own biases and interpretations that can alter the original meaning. Love, being so delicate, needs to be nurtured, protected, and kept safe. Yet, here goes Sofia, open to the world for translation, for anyone to make of it what they will.

Sofia is passionate, burning with emotion but it’s also written with a playful, almost childlike tone that exposes the vulnerabilities of true love. It comes from a heart that loves deeply, and thinks profoundly. It’s a mix of joy and pain. In the end, though, love as fully as you can, and never stop laying your heart bare for the things or people you care about. Give as much as you’re able, but don’t lose yourself in the process. Be brave and unafraid to share your love, because only then is it truly worthy. Every religion preaches love, but don’t confuse it with the shallow things they sell to you on television. It’s nothing like those mediocre stories we’re told. No, it’s far from that. Love is intentional because of its fragility. It’s hard, incredibly hard, but worth every bit of the struggle. You’ll laugh, cry, and sometimes feel numb. But that’s just love. It is complex, beautiful, and painfully real.