So When I Die - By Hlomla Ngqiniso

Written By: Hlomla Ngqiniso

Category: Essay

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the insightful essay "So When I Die," Hlomla Ngqiniso, also known by the pen name Riven Solace, offers a profound reflection on trauma, personal growth, and acceptance. Submitted as part of the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, this piece invites readers into a deeply personal journey marked by introspection and emotional resilience. Hlomla's narrative explores the complexities of life, the shadows of past wounds, and the path toward self-discovery, making it a compelling read in this year's competition.

About the Work

"So When I Die" is a raw and contemplative essay that navigates the intricacies of human emotion and experience. Hlomla Ngqiniso delves into themes of trauma, anger, mourning, and eventual acceptance, painting a vivid picture of inner turmoil and the search for peace. The piece is imbued with evocative imagery and introspective prose, inviting readers to reflect on the nature of existence and personal redemption. It is a poignant exploration of the self, marked by a haunting yet hopeful tone.

So When I Die...

Original Submission by Hlomla Ngqiniso

So When I Die

A reflective article by Hlomla Ngqiniso A.K.A Riven Solace

I had always been my own therapist for the longest time, self-regulating and soothing the wounds created by the adults around me. I would rationalise my trauma as any person would, “It was bound to happen” or “It is for the best”. I continued school with idea that perhaps, if I use the intelligence I was given with, I would be capable of outliving the problems that haunted me daily.

It was not until I got into my dream university, I realised that these problems are not just haunting me, they are a part of me. There was a deep hole in my heart that yearned to be filled by someone other than myself, a hole that even God failed to do away with. Even during my journey with religious theology and spirituality, the hole only deepened with time. All I could see in the foreground was the blood that was spewing from my own heart, seeking to achieve one thing.

Death. It frightened me for the longest time, because it was so frequent in my family. First, it was my mom, then my childhood, then my grandmother, now it is every version of myself that I have built to protect my heart up until this point. It was not death in of itself that I was scared of. It was the silence that came after. The emptiness that had grown once it received the tears that fell from my own eyes. There were wounds on my mother’s body that never healed, similar to the wounds on my own heart. The one thing I feared soon became the one thing I wished for. The silence of my own mind has never felt so foreign. I was so afraid of mourning till I became afraid of the morning.

Mourning. When I realised I was different at 13, I mourned my family and my future. My father was not the kindest man, and I mourned memories we never had. I had died and I loved it. The ache of the night assimilated with the darkness of my mind, and I soon wanted to sleep as well. My bed was one of a coffin, so heavy from the weight of my body and my heart that it often broke like the many things in my life. The cracks in the walls were poetic, akin to the ones in my family. I had no autonomy in a house where no one cared about me, not even the choice over my own life. How worse was Hell to the one that had been my life up until this point?

Anger. I felt it in every waking moment, even now as I am writing this. I did not know what to do with it at the time, and even now I still do not know. The last time I let it out, I nearly killed someone I hated. I swore never to do it again, because I would rather die than to live with the Devil in my mind. I attracted people who were angry themselves, and they all let it out on me. Perhaps I loved that feeling, at least my anger could be personified as my abuser. I could finally feel something rather than…nothing. I hated that my body kept me alive for so long, let alone all the other horrors in my life.

Apathy. Something I rarely felt from time to time. I was so used to the empathy I felt for my torturers that when I killed the boy inside of me, it all sank into the abyss. It felt good, it felt good, it felt…good…until it didn’t. No anger, no sadness, no happiness, no jealousy, just…nothing. I was a walking carcass amongst the living, and with every smile I drew upon my face, I felt the emptiness take up space within the vessel I used to call my home.

Agony. I have nothing to be for I have nothing to hold. I am not permitted to take my life into my hands for it is not my own. Does the pain prove my existence or do the scars of happiness I have left on the children of my ancestors enough to prove my innocence? As the vessel I reside in does not belong to me, I surrender to what I am still to know. It engulfed me in the fog of what I remembered of my life, I grew something far worse than the evils that had been done to me.

Hate. I began descending on the walls, begging for the black, fat boy inside to let me go. Let me go! Let me unleash it all unto those undeserving so they can be what I used to be. Let them feel the Hell that has been my home in their hearts so they cannot speak another word upon her that is my life. Death is lenient upon the adversaries of the good, then I finally understood why Gahenna and Sheol were destined to be their home for eternity. Such evil revealed cannot be seen by this world, for they sit and watch it as entertainment. My Hell was a Heaven compared to the atrocities my brothers and sisters face, then I saw it. The bells rung and the Heavens rejoiced at the death of unawareness and the birth of a light that existed far before my conception.

Exulansis. How do I begin to explain the path I have taken at this age? An awakening of something greater than myself that I still struggle to conceive. That perhaps I continue to write and learn from my writings. That there is something within me that I know so vaguely yet so familiar, a soul with no name that can be uttered by mortals, not even myself. It knows more about this world and the one beyond than I ever could imagine, yet it sleeps with me every night. It wakes with me every morning and grieves with me every noon. I do not know what to do with it. So much talent and splendour yet so many doors must be thrusted open to be even offered the chance. Despite of the bleak observations, I have made during the course of my life, my greatest discovery is the name of the entity that drives me through this life by my ankles.

Riven Solace. The embodiment of peace I have been yearning for yet is broken beyond repair. I have made peace with that I must make peace in this world, even if it breaks my very being. I continue to mourn, die, resurrect, and repeat once more in search of the answer. An answer the world had long forgotten. That regardless of the pain and suffrage in this world, they are incomparable to the complexity of this life. That to live is to be human, to be human is to be flawed, and to be flawed is to be beautiful. An artwork is never without flaw and that is what makes it unique. The value does not lie in the art but rather in its creation, the days and nights spent of its existence are not in vain and so am I.

Acceptance. So, I will continue to live, not for the hopes that it will become better nor that it will be filled with joy. I live for the mere fact that I do, that in some way, shape or form, I will contribute to the artwork that is this Life. Oh, how she has given birth to what we still are yet to understand. I do not want my life to be a reflection of the sorrows that have fell upon me, for they are not aligned with what I seek in this time. I want it to be glorious. To be filled of moments that are stuck in the arms of time as they move around the circle of life. I will continue chase a solace I have never known yet am certain I will meet.

So, when I die, I will have lived a life worth living

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, is a prestigious platform celebrating the art of storytelling and poetic expression. This international event brings together writers and poets from around the world to share their unique voices and perspectives. The competition encourages creativity and provides a stage for emerging talent to present their work to a global audience, fostering a vibrant community of literary enthusiasts.

We extend our sincere gratitude to Hlomla Ngqiniso for sharing "So When I Die" with us in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Your essay is a testament to the power of reflection and the human spirit's resilience. Thank you for inviting us into your journey of introspection and growth. We look forward to witnessing more of your compelling narratives in the future.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.