NaBloPoMo – Page 2 – a cooking pot and twisted tales

Good evening. From BlogQTV, these are the headlines…yada, yada, blah, blah, blah…

The attraction of young unjaded bright eyes to legendary newscasters beaming their lovely dentition through our black and white television stoked a childish dream and aspiration.

“What did it feel like to speak into that microphone and have others listen to the words that came forth?” I was enthralled. I made my ever loving younger brothers my audience with my fabricated microphone of an empty plastic bottle 🙂

Then again, so did so many other things mesmerize me even things that turned out not to be good for me.

In my head, I often became a renowned newscaster, artist, actor, dancer, singer, sportswoman, astronaut, detective (yes I fancied myself a George in famous five, a Nancy Drew and even Sherlock Holmes at some point in time; I wrote a detective story and called myself Sherlocka Homer 😉

It was a case of whatever caught the fancy of this impressionable young child which I think was an excellent exercise. “I wonder if my younger siblings think so?”

I was always the nurse who gave the injections and they were my patients ;-), or the cop and they remained the bad guys.

Then came crunch time of university and choosing a course. Theatre Arts was vehemently refused by my parents. Back then in Nigeria, artistes were hungry and viewed as a bunch of charlatans.

Communication Arts was also not highly favoured. There was a need to have a prestigious lawyer in the house, so I tried to become one.

To cut a long story short, lawyer I am not. I have evolved into so many things over time and have learnt as I went along, “that though sometimes, life wants to chose what it wants you to become, you have to take pliers and grip that which you truly want.’‘

In response to NaBloPoMo prompt – Tuesday, November 3

What did you think was the coolest job in the world when you were younger? Do you still feel that way now?

Delving into my brain and trying to excavate a remembrance of a toy that my parents deprived me of in my archive of childhood memory bank, I come up a bit short.

Though I recollect begging off some Goody-Goody rubbery chocolate bite and Bazooka Joe chewing gum, from a childhood mate and wishing that I had my own kobo to purchase some. Those things were sweet!

It turned out that she had pinched some kobo’s from her mothers purse and the butt-cracking whoop she got sobered my aspirations in my head. You could hear her mothers paddling and querulous voice as well as my friends wailing in the entire neighbourhood.

Back then, your parents would discipline you openly and the auntie next door would probably chip in her own reprimand, to spice up matters. The fear and shame kept you on the straight and narrow for quite a long time. It was just the way things were.

My life was shaped with love, laughter, rebuke and encouragement and maybe I didn’t know better, but we hardly took much notice of material things that seemed lacking.

As a child, I was raised in a community where everyone was virtually at par in wealth. A decent home, a utility car to get you around, a university staff school for the children, a common playground and other haunts where we got up to all sorts of mischief.

In my minds eye, our parents pockets never overflowed with golden pennies but they provided the best of the basics and the little treats now and again, meant a whole lot.

Shopping malls did not dot the landscape as is obtainable these days and going to the few that existed then, was a treat in itself. Today’s digital gadgets were non-existent, even our television was a Black and White Grundig that came on only in the evenings after the National anthem and watching those cartoons was a privilege.

Most times, we amused ourselves creating our own kites, building cars from discarded tires, crocheting, skipping ropes, playing hopscotch, making pat-a-cakes from sand mounds, scrambling up mango or cashew trees and a myriad of things that children did.

Now and again, a friend would acquire a new toy doll or toy car and we shared in playing with it; of course with a promise to her/him that when he got ours, we would share with them as well.

Christmas and birthdays were beautiful and magical times spent with family and friends and then came the presents, usually something that was in vogue at that point in time. It seemed every little girl owned a rubber doll with sets of combs and what have you or a Raleigh bicycle with a little basket it front.

Now that I think of it, maybe the parents used to converge for a meeting to decide on the present theme for the year.

It was really a simpler life.

In response to NaBloPoMo November 2015 Prompts

Monday 2 November – What was the one toy that a friend had that you wished you had when you were little?

Image credit: Pinterest.