I grew up in a close-knit family.
We woke up to say our morning prayers together.
We ate dinner together.
I went to the best schools my parents’ money could afford.
For reasons I can’t explain, I found ‘word problem’ (a topic in mathematics) difficult,
My Father took his time to ensure I understood it better.
While mum made sure we could pronounce every word in our school Reader.
I can’t forget the ordeal my elder sister went through with her,
Whilst she learned how to pronounce ‘Mr. Giwa is a shopkeeper’.
Dad bought ife afia almost every evening,
(which was always shared meticulously by my younger sister).
Even though he wasn’t a trader, he worked with the Government.
Nothing drastic happened during my childhood.
I didn’t face any form of abuse,
I never even heard of any.
There were sad times, really sad times.
There were times that we cried,
But there was a lot of laughter too.
Several nights, we sat down in the sitting room and laughed at our own jokes.
We teased ourselves, we teased our visitors, we ‘gossiped’ about other people.
When I remember my childhood, the memories are always filled with so much laughter.
I had a happy childhood.
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