We were children

Remember when we were children? Give or take between 1 and 7 years of age. Life was easy; even if…

Damilola

January 26, 2012

Remember when we were children? Give or take between 1 and 7 years of age. Life was easy; even if your parents were the poorest of the poor. Most of us still knew our mother and fathers would come through in terms of food and Christmas clothing. Where they got it from was not our business and times when they didn’t come through, it didn’t matter because they held us to their breast and sang till our bellies were full.


Remember when we didn’t know the difference between beautiful and ugly; tall or short; sexy or unsexy;. We loved just because; they made us laugh, played with us, fought with us in the sand, wiped our tears and snot away with their Sunday best, they were there when Grandma died, got into trouble with us, shared our meals, helped us with homework, kept our secrets… Remember kissing mom mouth to mouth in the morning when her breath was bad and yet we barely noticed because we were just so in love with the woman who slapped us to hell and back just two days ago? Remember never being ashamed of  Dad with his Afro and constant scarecrow look or his hicuupy Beetle that took at least 5 tries before it would start every day?

We loved just because.

We are all grown up now. Love for us is now defined by how much he resembles D.banj(like seriously???), how good he is in the sack, if his account balance can fund Brazillian hair and your mother’s dream wedding, how similar is his dress style to Trey Songs’, how much English he can speak, how much swagger he has, the kind of job he has…

Love for us comprises how good she always looks, how her hair is always perfectly coiffured, how her many degrees make Wole Soyinka look like he just started, how she cooks just like mother(we would have said much better but we know which battles to fight), how slim she is, how friends envy us…

No more for us little boys with lapalapa (ringworm) on their heads who would beat up all the other children in the whole neighborhood if we asked. No more helping her loosen her braids when it got itchy. There were enough house girls and salons for that. No more the flowers he stole from the house with the best garden on our street. It had to be diamonds and rubies or nothing. No more girls in shorts and scraped knees. The sexiest women for us wore heels all the time. No more stealing kisses under the full moon. It was the lights of Paris or nothing more.

‘And he said: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’


I rest my case.


Song of the day: Bob Marley- I wanna love you

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