Once I answered a question. I was supposed to state the person or thing I miss the most from my childhood. Naturally, the expected reply should have been a favourite aunt, or uncle, especially the one with the juiciest treats. Or perhaps a much loved doll gifted me by either of my doting parents. Or some wild play in the sand with not a care in the world.
Me, the child-me, was my unequivocal response.
Hey, hang on a minute. Just before you rush along to conclude how self-reeking my response was, is with all its focus on "me", you might want to understand that that was the only way I could encompass all the "naturally expected" replies, and a thousand and one others. You might want to say that was a smart reply now, yea you can't be more right.
The child-me was all innocent. She was all naive, sometimes naivete keeps one happy. She didn't care, worry about what she'd eat the next day. Or bills to settle before the month runs out. She didn't have to rationalize all her actions and inactions. She wasn't concerned about giving out wrong signals to the boys she played with everyday. Or being accused of "envy" or insecurity by the girls when she refused, sometimes, to let them play with her toys because they rough handled them the previous day.
The child-me grew up thinking "Onigode" was what every street hawker, never minding what they traded in had to scream to call the attention of buyers to their wares. Onigode is actually a Yoruba term used by bottles' (old bottles that could be usefully improvised to serve conveniently) traders to announce their presence. The child-me equated every marketable commodity with bottles, old bottles. She was really cute, like that.
Do they still buy and sell bottles like that now?
The child-me later got acquainted with plenty other terms. She began to know the fish seller was near when she heard "E ra eja e se obe". She recognized the cold-tea seller's voice those hot afternoons screaming "E mu tea tutu ooo". She became very familiar with one particular woman who sometimes played lifesaver to plenty of homes with her melodious ringing- "Ekaro olonje n ki yin ooo". This trader did great services to not a few stomachs, especially on busy Saturday mornings.
The child-me grew up thinking "Alaba Alaba Alaba" were the only words mouthed by bus conductors regardless of the vehicle's route.
The child-me needed not to worry about food because mom and dad would always pass their dishes, only half-gone to her.
The child-me had no worries. She had faith, in everything. And nothing failed.
As awesome and amazing as I have grown to be, every once in a while- scratch that, a million and one times more than every once in a while, I miss the child-me.
Everybody has something, a bunch of things he, she misses from his/her childhood days. Sweet little things that leave you nostalgic every time you revisit them. Feel free to share those memories, people, places, events with us in the comment section. Let's revisit the good old days, together, shall we?
