MMESO INSPIRES

Mmeso Inspires: There Were Days

There were days when we laugh sparingly…

Buried in the warmth of the evening breeze

And expecting mother’s delicious soup

which will be accompanied by moonlight stories

with everyone clouding around Papa Fefe to hear him speak and then watch him doze off few minutes after his tales.

Nene the youngest of us, always pull at his long moustache while the rest of us suppress our laughter by  burying our faces into our cloth to prevent him from waking up.

There were days when we laugh sparingly…

Playing the couple’s role with a stick tied tightly to my back.

And singing it lullaby, so that I can do the house chores.

Ndu, my husband promising her some bean cakes if she eat her food.

And I, smiling to my “husband” and my “baby stick”.

How time flies.

There were days when Ekene used to steal his mother’s roasted corn and bring to me…

We are little then, but he knew the act of wooing.

Related stories:

Growing up now, I wonder where he learnt it from.

I always enjoy the corn at the backyard so that mother will not find out…

But she knew all along and played all along…

The day she finally pounced on me at the backyard, was the same day, Ekene’s mother dragged him to our house to see who her son had been stealing her corn to.

We were spanked that day, and Ekene hated me more than ever.

I never cared at all.

There were days when I wished that I was a grown up…

So as to wear mini skirts like Aunty Ginika and  apply red coloured lip stick like Aunty Oluchi.

I have always admired the way Aunty Nkiru chews her bubble gum,  blowing it at intervals while swaying her hips from side to side.

I have also admire the way Brother Jide always play loud music while washing his clothes and press his phone  while walking on the road until it was snatched from him by the bad boys.

I wonder who were the bad boys.

I am a grown up now and I found out that responsibilities abounds….

Most times, I wished that I was still that little girl who used to wake up in the middle of the night to cry for food.

While father pleads with mother to serve me the leftover.

Right now, I have to fend for my self and think of my aged parents.

Life and it’s transition is truly a mystery.

Verily, I missed those days.

Mmesoma Nwobodo

Inspirational writer, creative writer, storyteller and law undergraduate

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