Curiosity; A battlefield
When was the first time you were let into this open secret; Babies are made when a man and woman do this “bad” thing and come out through the Va-va-vaa, forget it, let’s just call it “poh-pooh”. As we grew there was this period in our lives when every sentence we made ended with a question mark. At this stage of growth, we all were eager to know more about the world, quite novel to us at the time, our minds were too small to comprehend all we saw and heard, we asked questions, the simplest explanation an adult gave warranted further explanation to explain the explanation given. It is a difficult time for most children and more so for adults in charge of their education, my experience with four siblings can bear witness to that. It was during this period that I asked ‘mama how much was I bought’. The events leading to that question I cannot remember well but I think it was link to our neighbor’s wife returning home, two days after i saw her being taken away, crying and cussing, she was unable to walk so they had to carry her, the stomach was really big, I guessed she had eaten too much and her stomach was hurting. When she came back we went to see her, behold! Lying in the cradle was this little thing in the form of a human, with extremely small but active fingers. ‘That is a new baby’. Mama said, lifting me up to see it. ‘Where do they get babies from?’ ‘They’re bought at the hospital; you were once as small as that’ I was silent for a while, which was unusual, normally that answer would’ve been followed by another question. I was silent not because I understood what I’ve been told rather it was because what I’ve heard hit me so hard that I needed time to process it. How and when was I that small without remembering any of it? I remained quiet, absorbed in my little thoughts throughout the rest of the visitation. It was the first time I haven’t followed the answer of a question with another question, which I always do until mama will shout the answer which I understood, “shut up!” We were about entering our house when like a volcano which has been dormant for long, the question about my price tag erupted. Mama looked at me intensely, I’m pretty sure she was trying to determine my worth she was having a hard time fixing a price on my head from the look on her face, After much bargaining within her she told me ‘you’re priceless, you can’t be bought with all the monies in the world’ If all the monies in the world couldn’t buy me, how then did she get me? It was then she told me this story how I came about to be her “little papa” and she my “mama”. ‘Do you still remember the market I took you to last week’ ‘ yes I still remember where you bought my toy car’ ‘Good, did you see that big tree standing at the center of the park? That was where it all happened, during Christmas season; the market was full, for everybody went out for shopping. Christmas is always at mid Dry season, that day a strange thing happened-there was lightening and a report of thunder, the sky was crystal blue, there was no sign of rain or a rain clouds, you agree with me it is really abnormal to hear of thunder with no rains. Everybody stood still expecting something more strange to happen, all knew the unusual lightening was an omen, but what they didn’t know was, it was a good omen, minutes after, something wrapped in white clothes fell from the sky, everybody exclaimed; giant hailstone! I mustered courage to look what it really was, there you lay and small as the baby we just saw but prettier, sucking your tiny thumb. I picked you up, when other women saw how cute you were, they started begging you from me, some even offered me money, I still refused, for I have already fallen madly in love with you and was determine to keep you as mine. When the women saw I won’t give you up for the world, they decided to use force and attacked me, I defended myself and you, how brave I was, even when I was wounded in the abdomen, you remember the line you saw on my belle the other day and was asking where it came from? It came from a knife the wicked women attacked and tried to kill me with, so as to take you from me’ ‘did you die mama’ ‘No! I am still here, alive and talking with you’ ‘How come did I fall from heaven instead of being bought at the hospital like other kids’ ‘Because you are special my little papa, God made you in heaven as his son, he gave you to an angel to carry while he attended to something important, the angel was careless, he tripped on his toe and let you out of his hands so out of heaven you fell down to earth’ ‘Mama remember to you told me to always give back to the rightful owner whenever I pick something which isn’t mine, why did you not give me back to God’ Mama stood for a while, lost in thought, she drew in a large amount of air and exhaled it out in three breaths “just-shut-up!”. Like I said, it was the only statement I understood at the time, which meant putting my index finger on my mouth and not say a word. Later that day mama came back to me and finished her story she said she kept me because, God came by to take me back but when he saw how well she was treating and caring for me, and how she begged him to allow her keep me for a while, God decided to allow me with her, as her son, and he will come to take me back to heaven after many years most have pass. That story caused a lot of controversy when I narrated it to my “bought” friends who were envious of me being “special and God made” many a time did I fight to defend the honour of heavenly origins. The story of my origin clearly defined mama’s role in my life, but there is no mention of this other person, who whenever he was around I adjusted my habits, measured my words, worse made sure I burry alive the tantrum I was about to throw. Mama will insist I call this man, “Papa” i was obstinate about it, not that the idea was repulsive to me, at that time I did or say all mama told me. My stubbornness was caused by the way Mama went about the business of making me say “Papa”, she gave me sweets to make me say “Papa”. I realize the more I forgot to say it, the more she will try to make me say it by giving me more sweets. I wasn’t so stupid as not to know that me getting more sweet depended on my chronic intentional forgetfulness, I wasn’t ready to let go of a mine of sweets and other little favors yet, I kept on the game for long until one day Papa- oh yes I called him “papa” now, I am sorry you won’t ever get to know how I used to call this man before, at least from me, the circumstances that put a stop to my stubbornness don’t allow one to risk a repeat. As I was saying one day; “monkey chop pepper” and papa decided to take the matter into his own rough hands, what a hundred sweets, more begging and pampering couldn’t do, a few strokes of cane on the buttocks performed the magic, since then papa has been the undisputed papa in my life. Having fulfilled the basic condition necessary for human existence; having a Papa and Mama, you now know how my mama and papa came about. I continued to grow, growth means learning new things, I was a curious and inquisitive type, ready to learn and absorb everything I heard or saw. Mama knew it was her duty to teach me everything I needed in order to function properly in this world; she taught me where humans came from as earlier seen, how they’re suppose to live and behave and where they go when they die. Like I said educating a child at that age is tough for the child but more so for the teacher Mama was rigorous and strict with my education making sure I learned the right things at the right time. I was brought up in a pretty much strict moral education surrounded by what mama calls “white lies”. Anything pertaining to sexuality was hidden under many layers of Mama’s “white lies” I had a whole lot of words blacklisted and labeled “Satan’s words” words which God himself couldn’t have made me to pronounce. Words related to the reproductive system and reproduction were all blacklisted. Penis, vagina, sex and many others words were all forbidden, Anus was also blacklisted as well because it is closer anatomically to the bad words. Such restrictions greatly affected my communication, Mama who always come up with another way of doing a particular thing invented for a me a customized vocabulary, which in the place of penis I had “noh-nooh”, vagina “poh-pooh” anus was “Toh-tooh” Using such words with people who were not acquainted with my way of speaking was awkward and I sounded unintelligent. But mama preferred her son ‘speaking less intelligent for his age to him speaking more for his age’. Mama’s education paid off, it was with much pride that she welcomed her child being used as the standard for a good child in the village which was synonymous to ignorance and naivety. One can now see why I was always into fights my with other kids when they disputed my made in heaven origins, it was not envy that made them to be mean with me, but my stupid innocence and ignorance, I was laugh at and nicknamed “ajebo”-mum’s soft child. At an age when most kids knew about the other functions of their organs other than to make water, I was still blank as blackened black board. So long as we’re alive, we learn. I did learn despite all the delays, things that would’ve fetched me a good thrashing if mama knew. Curiosity is a stronger force than most people attribute to it. I didn’t run away as mama had instructed whenever bad words were mentioned, curiosity got the better of me, I sat quietly as other kids vomited out a plethora of bad words, while I listened pretending to be disgusted, wondering where they learn so many bad words, many of which I didn’t understand. There is something fascinating about intentional sinning that I can’t explain, So was my listening to these kids talk, every day, their dirty talk was proving to be more interesting and sweeter, soon I was looking up with admiration and interest to these boys talk as if they were Jesus and his apostles preaching the good news on the mountain. Mama knew I was growing and learning many things, she couldn’t prevent me from getting expose to all sorts of ideas and opinions, what she could do was monitor my activities and she did that by making me relate to her all that I heard or saw during the day, she could always count on me telling her everything, that would’ve been a brilliant scheme if she remembered she had earlier instructed me never mention any bad words. So I used to chatter about all that I’ve heard and seen during the day with mama every evening, while craftily skipping out certain parts and events which I she has forbidden me from talking about. Mama was assured of me being innocent and uncompromised from my reports, she was mighty wrong! The only incident about reproduction which I reported to her was i watching a goat deliver a kid, through “poh-pooh”. Mama saw danger in that and forbid me not to ever talk of animals mating or giving birth. I spend the whole day with other kids observing goat, pigs, birds, dogs mate while making sure I said nothing about it to mama. I’ve learned to avoid certain topics, even though I didn’t know much what I was avoiding in it. One may accuse me of having felt guilty and since guilt come from knowledge of having done bad, and then I knew what I was doing. It wasn’t like that, I was more of a machine programmed to censor itself, I censored myself not because I had knowledge of bad but because what I was going to say had certain words that I have been programmed to avoid. Imagine a six year old boy walking up to her mother ‘Mama when I was playing with my friends, they took me into a bush, removed my pants and theirs and then made me rub my penis to their vagina’ surely nobody expected me to bloat out so many bad words in such a short sentence, Mama never knew about that incident, It changed many things in me, right down to the foundation. The fact that I had touched my penis was something I dare not let her know, for she had forbidden me from ever touching it or even to look at my own body. How then did I urinate as a boy without touching my organ? It was an exercise involving many complex manoeuvres. I had to remove all my pants down to the feet, and then perform a full spinal extension, with legs wide open as possible before I made water without sinning or soiling myself. I was no longer the little boy who always sticks around his Mama, following her right into the toilet. I’ve grown and made new friends, Mama had ceased to be the only source for my education, and I had many educators who were often contradictory. Never have I been so confused, was I to continue believing in mama as I was wont or my new and apparently more informed friends who wanted me to fit in by believing in them Humans fear nothing more than they do change, convincing myself against all that I have been taught and believe since I was born, that I was made through sex, not by God, was a huge decision to make. It meant a total overhaul of my creed. Which I did, we all must grow, and I’m no exception. Years have pass since mama fed me with those white lies, but I’m still to completely get them out of my system. Sometimes I’m tempted to go back to my old believes when I look at Mama and Papa ‘Did they really do it and still presents such innocent looks?’
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