Poetry examines life; it offers a profound window into the intricacies of human experience, both individual and collective. It is perhaps one of the most honest forms of expression, one through which a person’s private and public affairs are projected. This assertion underscores Folawe Mustapha’s Nothing About Me Was Wasted, a remarkable collection that examines love, loneliness, belonging, anxiety, and the quest for meaning.

Often, we go through life without understanding who we truly are or knowing our worth, because of the avalanche of societal expectations and rules we are expected to live by. Consequently, we strive daily to meet those expectations without considering how they affect our happiness and life’s purpose. In this collection, Mustapha challenges these societal constructs through deep philosophical reflection.

Published in 2026, the 73-page collection comprises twenty narrative poems. It opens with the evocative “The Distance That Had a Pulse” (pp. 8–11), in which the persona problematizes the dilemma of love, betrayal, emotional abuse, and the trauma of worthlessness.

The poem examines a woman who endures emotional abuse and feelings of inadequacy at the hands of a lover who cannot reciprocate her affection or desire her beyond sexual contact. Tired of being lonely while living with a lover, she makes the difficult decision to leave. Only after leaving does she realizethat his inability to love her was not the result of her personal failings or of her being unworthy of love. Through the persona’s reflection, we discern the heavy burden of living with someone and yet being lonely.

Using the metaphor of an “empty room,” the persona philosophizes on the complex nature of love and loneliness. The first two stanzas of the opening poem corroborate this assertion:

There are ways of being lonely

that have nothing to do

with an empty room.

I learnt this

beside you.

Indeed, loneliness is an abstract concept; one can be in a room full of people and still be lonely. It is a psychological state, as the persona enunciates in the stanza below:

Your shoulder was close enough

for my head to rest on,

but your heart was so far away

to hear my silent whispers

The full weight of living with someone who neither sees nor desires you is a haunting experience that can erode one’s self-esteem and sense of worth, as it does the persona’s. The poem “What Remains After Goodbye” (pp. 12–13) offers instructive insight into how loneliness and unworthiness can affect one’s state of mind. The persona asserts that leaving a loveless relationship does not mean that the one who leaves escapes without scars. She reflects in the opening stanza:

I thought leaving

would be one clean motion.

A door.

A suitcase.

A final sentence

that would settle

everything the heart

had failed to settle.

In reality, leaving a failed relationship carries its own burden. Society judges the one who leaves without considering what she may have endured; she is seen as a failure who could not keep her relationship or marriage. Society makes leaving look easy, but the persona shows that leaving is as burdensome as staying in a failed relationship: the victim is never truly free of societal judgement. The persona puts it succinctly in the stanza below:

People say,

You left.

As though leaving

is a single verb.

They do not see

the hundreds of times

you leave someone

after you have already left.

You leave again and again and again and

AGAIN!!!

The stanza above reinforces the notion of endurance in relationships, especially those that end with devastating consequences, and particularly in African relationships, where spouses are expected to endure even when there is clearly no love between them. For fear of stigmatization, couples remain in failed relationships that destroy their mental health and self-worth. In “The Empty Chair” (pp. 14–15), the persona explores the inadequacy that comes from constantly feeling unwanted or unloved, but she realizes that someone’s refusal to want or choose her is not a result of her personal failings. In the opening stanza, she remarks:

I used to wonder

what was wrong with me

when you did not choose me.

After a traumatic relationship, it is common for victims to wonder why they were not chosen, or to feel inadequate, especially when they gave their all in the hope of being found worthy of a lover’s affection. Realizing that you were never the problem can bring a deep sense of relief, but, as with the persona, this awareness often comes only after another person has made you question your sense of self.

The metaphor of the empty chair thus suggests that although a chair may be empty for a time, it will eventually be occupied. Not being wanted or chosen does not mean a person is worthless; it means that the right person, one who will see their worth, has not yet come along. Have faith in your worth, the poem implies, for the right person will find you eventually.

The persona makes this clear at the end of the poem: “And sometimes / an empty chair / is simply an empty chair. / Not proof / that nobody / will ever sit there.” Do not let societal pressure push you to settle for less or endure an abusive relationship just to fit in, the persona appears to be telling readers.

Similarly, in “Things No One Sees” (pp. 17–20), the persona highlights the reality of pretending to be all right while going through a great deal. The poem x-rays the personal battles people fight in silence and the burdens they bear. “The Beginning Does Not Apologize” (pp. 21–23) examines the psychological displacement caused by the fear of failure. It encourages readers to dare, and not to be overwhelmed by the consequences of failing or by the fear that their ideas are not good enough. There is no perfect time to start anything, or to start again; the poem urges readers to begin whether or not they feel ready, and whether or not their ideas are perfect.

In conclusion, Folawe Mustapha has written a collection that serves as a motivational guide for people facing different challenges in life, urging them not to give up on themselves even when others have given up on them. It is a personal reflection on life and the little things that make it interesting or uninteresting: contemplative and evocative. One cannot ignore the prosaic nature of the collection, which is attributable to the author’s background as a spoken-word poet. The language is loose, but the messages are deep and thoughtful. It will certainly speak to many readers personally.

Paul Liam is a poet and culture writer based in Abuja.