The Ugly Truth

In the quaint town of Mara mma, nestled between rolling hills and verdant forests, beauty was never appreciated nor celebrated, it was considered a way of life. Every summer, the town held a special and ironic event, the “Ugly Truth”, a rare occasion meant to strip away the outermost layers and reveal the hidden depth of each resident. This festival required the people to reveal a part of themselves, they usually kept concealed whether it was a physical trait, a personal story or even a hidden talent one wouldn’t feel comfortable to let others know. The motto of the festival seemed to be simple yet profound in its very meaning “… but beauty lies in the truth”.

Moremi stood in front of her mirror for a while, her eyes keen in knowledge like it had a brain of its own as they traced the outline of her birthmark that spread over her shoulder and down her back like a raveled map. She had always hated it. It made her feel different, inhuman if anything at most. She pulled on a sweater, hiding the dark blotch once again. The festival wasn’t far off and the thought of it gnawed at her guts.

She had moved to Mara mma three years ago, seeking a solace and fresh start. Even though the town had welcomed her with open arms, she had never felt like she belonged there. She always admired festival’s concept in theory, but the idea of participating sent chills down her spine. This time felt different to her. There was a nudge, a whisper, something pulling her to the idea of finally owning up to what was part of her, even though it was conflicting. Time would tell if she would make a good decision.

The town leader, Jibril, was bustling around the town square, overseeing the final preparations for the festival. Jibril was everything you would seek in a leader and he was everything the town adored-handsome, daunting, gentle and very confident. Yet behind the attractive embodiment lied a soul struggling with insecurities. Jibril had started the festival 5 years ago, with the intention of confronting his fears indirectly. As the town’s leader, he encouraged others to reveal their truths, but never had he participated in it himself.

As he prepared the stage and decorations with a couple of people, Jibril saw Mrs Joanna approaching, an elderly woman, with her wrinkled yet soft skin and silver hair that put her number of years on the earth above the others. She was loved and respected in the town, as she possessed wisdom fa beyond the reach of the residents.

“This is very beautiful Jibril. You’ve never not outdone yourself” she cheered on as Jibril approached her in a haste.

“I try my best as usual,” he chuckled as they both embraced each other. “It’s going to be a magnificent this year again”

“Yes it is”, Jibril concluded as they both stood in amazement, their eyes fixed on the beautiful stage being set up.

The day of the festival had finally come after months of long preparation. The town square buzzed with activity as people gathered, eating, most drinking, but all in all, being merry with each other.

The air buzzed with anticipation as Obi, a new resident in the town and sculptor arrived in town. Obi had an artist’s eye for seeing beauty even in the smallest things. He was fascinated by the festival’s concept, and decided to document it through his art. His arrival didn’t go unnoticed by Moremi though, who found his perspective of life very refreshing.

Moremi and Obi had crossed paths in the local café just before the festival was to kick off. He noticed her anxious demeanor and was moved to strike up a conversation.

“First time at the festival?” he asked gently. “No, at all” Moremi replied.

Obi smiled. “I’ve heard it’s quite an experience. I’m planning to document it through my sculptures, maybe seeing it through a different lens might help me today.”

Moremi nodded, though unsure, but silently encouraged by Obi’s words. She decided to visit Mrs Joanna.

Mrs. Joanna welcomed Moremi with a warm smile. “Ah!, Remi. The festival is near, isn’t it?” “Yes, I know that, but I don’t know if I can do it,” Moremi admitted.

Mrs. Joanna sipped her tea slowly before uttering anything. After a while, she broke the silence between them.

“The Festival of the Ugly Truth isn’t about perfection, my dear…. It’s about embracing what makes us unique, what stands us out from others, even though we are the same. True beauty lies in our imperfections and vulnerabilities and how you can wage them with your strengths”

“But…”

“Listen Remi…. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if there’s a surge, no matter how tiny it is my dear, don’t neglect it” Mrs Joanna finshed.

~ The festival began with Jibril addressing the crowd.

“Welcome, everyone, to the Ugly Truth! Today, as it has always been every summer, we celebrate the one thing that reminds us of who we are and why we are – our true selves. Do remember though, beauty will always lie in the truth, no matter how ugly. Therefore I ask you all today, to strip yourself off all that hides you, the real! Be an ugly and naked person today and reveal the ugly truth and only then will true beauty elude.” In a quick turn of time, he lit up the bonfire to begin the festival.

One by one, the residents of the town stepped forward to share their stories. Some revealed hidden talents, others shared personal stories, and a few showcased physical traits they had been insecure about. Jamie captured these moments through his sketches, highlighting the most unique thing in everyone. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

It had gotten to Moremi’s turn and her heart raced like a stallion freeing itself from its captors. She took a deep breath and climbed onto the stage.

“I’ve always been ashamed of my birthmark,” she began, revealing the large, dark patch on her body. “But today, I choose to embrace it, for it’s a part of who I am.” She finished, hoping the ground would open wide enough to swallow her. The crowd erupted in applause and Moremi felt a wave of relief wash over her. She looked at Obi, who gave her an encouraging nod. The applause went on for a little while as her courage inspired others, including Jibril.

He stepped forward, his usual confidence replaced with vulnerability.

“I’ve always felt the pressure to appear perfect before all of you, but today I have realized that I’m only human,” he confessed.

“I have my insecurities too.” He revealed, as he lifted up his shirt to unveil a scar on his abdomen, a result of a childhood abuse he’d always kept hidden out of embarrassment and the fear of looking weak.

The town square fell silent for a moment, then erupted in applause once more, this time, more vigorous than the last. The festival progressed, and a collective sense of acceptance and understanding spread through the people. Bonds were formed as barriers were broken and the townspeople began to see each other in a new light.

As the festival drew to a close, Obi unveiled his sculptures as the final act, each capturing the essence of the participants’ truths. The artwork became a symbol of the festival’s success, a testament to the unique beauty in the residents.

Moremi felt a newfound confidence. Her birthmark was no longer a source of shame but a part of her story. Jibril, too, found solace in the acceptance of others for the man that he truly was

Mrs. Joanna stood afar, but smiled as her wisdom echoed in their minds, reminding them that true beauty truly lies in embracing one’s true self.

The Ugly Truth ended with a sense of unity and empowerment. Moremi and Jibril experienced personal growth, and Obi’s art became a permanent fixture in the town, a reminder of the power of authenticity.

As the sun set over Mara mma, the townspeople dispersed, carrying with them the festival’s message: beauty lies in the truth, even if it’s ugly.