siesta was a mix of the good and the bad for me while growing up-mostly bad, because it was mandatory and our house help knew how to enforce that mandate - "close your eyes and sleep, i dont want to see those eyes open....." sadly we had to do this every school day except Wednesday when she had to go for her secretarial classes. Bad also, because she always had to wake me up from the siesta and all the time it seemed i was less-than-ready to be woken up. She'd shake me roughly "wake up joor, or you want me to beg you to come and eat". It'd take me a while to fully wake up and the only other thing that spurred me on was the fact that i was hungry. I'd wake up utterly confused, partly still in my world of dreams and probably sweating a little. Sometimes, if i'd wet the bed then my sorrows seem to multiply cataclysmic-ally.... My brother seemed to handle waking up better than i did (just like he handled a lot of other things better, but maybe because he was treated differently-in a more gentle manner).
Lunch, as I remember it, was mostly a combination of sorts : rice and beans, beans and yam, beans and plantain, beans and corn... I remember especially one of those days I was rudely woken up and i sleep-walked to the dining area where the food had been dished out for all three of us -my 'aunty', my brother and I - we were made to eat together and I think it was especially because she was trying to reduce the amount of plates she had to wash. As i sat on the mat that had been laid out, i remember taking about two spoonfuls before I realized I had meat in my mouth! In the same instance, it'd seem, Aunty Faith realized the same thing and without asking any question, just gave me a hot slap. If nothing else, that slap woke me up fully and made me pee right there on myself.... After that, i was dished my food separately as punishment and made to wash up.
i didnt like Aunty Faith at all, especially because she always thrived on bullying me when my parents where not around -which was like 80% of the time. So in revenge, i did her in everytime I could when they were around. Aunty Faith was a distant relation of my Dad's from the village who had come into Lagos specifically as a help. Her more direct relative already had a house help and decided to loan her to us for as long as we needed. So technically, she was family! Dont get me wrong, we were not always at logger heads and the child i was, i forgot many of her misdeeds within minutes of them happening. Plus my brother and i were tight buddies at the time so if she wanted to play with him, she'd have me to contend with too.
So my favourite day of the week was on Sunday. Surprisingly, i dealt with mornings much better than i did the afternoon siesta. My mom would wake us up with the smell of fried plantains and egg stew - imagine, there was a time i hated plantain! how weird....anyways, i loved the smell of fried plantain and egg stew. My dad would take a bath for us-that was part of the sunday specials. we'd get dressed up really cute with some record or the other playing off the turn table. I remember one of them skipping when it got to ..."in this world, i this world" -my brother and i would sing along until mom or dad lifted the arm up and let the record roll on. the first time it happened, i was in the sitting room running around and i was worried i'd done sth to upset the record. When mom came in and i hastily said "i didnt go there o!" she reassured me that it wasn't me after which she explained what could have happened " that the people singing got stuck singing in that place ...lol"
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
dunno, dont care:unfinished
you know we could look for a job while we are home.
Every 'wanted' Advertisement called to me. But it was mostly for sales girls and receptionists. I was intrigued at the idea of working and I thought doing front job/hospitality business was a good place to start. alas, my father would hear nothing of it. Then a friend tried to get us into doing some sort of cleaning up business at her Mother's. another perfect job and the pay looked good...i dared not mention it to my dad so i broached the topic with my mom and she told me to forget about it. I could hear my dreams of shopping being squished.
We went into fashion designing - I half-heartedly - so it was no surprised that i didnt last in it. I was really restless because until i found something that seemed constructive to my parents, i was stuck with going to the market-the market i hated!
Every 'wanted' Advertisement called to me. But it was mostly for sales girls and receptionists. I was intrigued at the idea of working and I thought doing front job/hospitality business was a good place to start. alas, my father would hear nothing of it. Then a friend tried to get us into doing some sort of cleaning up business at her Mother's. another perfect job and the pay looked good...i dared not mention it to my dad so i broached the topic with my mom and she told me to forget about it. I could hear my dreams of shopping being squished.
We went into fashion designing - I half-heartedly - so it was no surprised that i didnt last in it. I was really restless because until i found something that seemed constructive to my parents, i was stuck with going to the market-the market i hated!
mini-incest:unfinished
in the days before the tale of the markets, i had a few years of growing up at my Aunty's - My dad's younger sister. It was all kinda contrived by my Dad after he found out he'd be taking the job in Saudi. I was ceremoniously shipped off to a boarding house in Enugu in the then Anambra State. It was initially an adventure to look forward to for me until I realized it was really a mis-adventure. It was bad enough that I was a misfit, I was joining the school in the middle of the academic year as a Senior student. Still i couldn't stay on as a boarder because the school facilities had been signed and sealed for the academic year. I had to commute everyday to school with the rest of the less popular day students. I hated it! I'd always been a boarder, this adjustment was a hell of a trial.
The darned merry-go-round shuttle bus was running late again. It was the cheaper means of getting to school, not really the only means. I'd be double damned if i'd take the taxi after making the 20mins walk from new haven b/stop to the main junction this early morning - it was almost 7:20am. The only reason i was running later than usual today-asides the obvious conspiracy by the bus drivers- was because we had a something different for breakfast this morning - all because Aunty had an emergency call last night and was not back yet. My Aunt was a matron and in every sense of the word too. Anyways, Ebi psyched me to make fries for breakfast instead of the usual beans we had everyday. I obliged happily because I was not much of a beans fan either, and it cost me! At last, there was the bus heading towards me. One thing was for sure, I was late for school today. It takes the bus a full 40mins to make the rounds, that is why it was nick-named merry-go-round- I'd have to use the 'apian' way. I just hope today is not my unlucky day! Enugu was still a quiet city, lovely scenery with natural landscape - landscape that was also our undoing. The gullys here were second to none-huge, huge gullys caused by erosion and (you took it right out of my moutn!) bad drainage. Unfortunately, since i was late, chioma had gone on without me so i was really on my own. Chioma lived about 10mins away from the main busstop. Another reason i liked going on the merry-go-round was that it gave me time to day dream and generally contemplate. Today's musing was for my mom - today was her birthday and i was generally feeling home sick.
The darned merry-go-round shuttle bus was running late again. It was the cheaper means of getting to school, not really the only means. I'd be double damned if i'd take the taxi after making the 20mins walk from new haven b/stop to the main junction this early morning - it was almost 7:20am. The only reason i was running later than usual today-asides the obvious conspiracy by the bus drivers- was because we had a something different for breakfast this morning - all because Aunty had an emergency call last night and was not back yet. My Aunt was a matron and in every sense of the word too. Anyways, Ebi psyched me to make fries for breakfast instead of the usual beans we had everyday. I obliged happily because I was not much of a beans fan either, and it cost me! At last, there was the bus heading towards me. One thing was for sure, I was late for school today. It takes the bus a full 40mins to make the rounds, that is why it was nick-named merry-go-round- I'd have to use the 'apian' way. I just hope today is not my unlucky day! Enugu was still a quiet city, lovely scenery with natural landscape - landscape that was also our undoing. The gullys here were second to none-huge, huge gullys caused by erosion and (you took it right out of my moutn!) bad drainage. Unfortunately, since i was late, chioma had gone on without me so i was really on my own. Chioma lived about 10mins away from the main busstop. Another reason i liked going on the merry-go-round was that it gave me time to day dream and generally contemplate. Today's musing was for my mom - today was her birthday and i was generally feeling home sick.
Mushin Market:unfinished
Mushin Market:
It seemed lately that my life was all about going to market and i deeply resented it. I didn't really mind going to market but having to do that everyday (even if for different reasons) will be the undoing of any averagely sane person- or so i strongly believe. For goodness' sake there are a thousand other things to do - like go to the beach, go to birthday parties (or just parties), go to .... not movies, cinemas were still a rarity. Anyways, one of the consolations i got from keeping at it was that i hated to see my mom coming home from the market with her stuffed bags - one on her head and one on her hand ( i sometimes can't help but think she does it intentionally just to rub it in my face that i am a less-than-well-trained daughter), but nothing beats me accompanying my mom to the market in my rank of utter dislike. Moreover, it is time-out for me, my only excuse to do as i will - as long as i don't overdo it and as long as i come home with the said items i went to purchase - don't get me wrong, i wasn't overly into truancy, just the average. It takes me about 8mins to get to the market using the public bus transportation that plies that route. My usual routine is to get off a stop before the final bus stop and take a short cut through the market, start at that end of the market so that by the time i walk all the way to the other end, i'd have been closer to the final bus stop and on my jolly way home, having hopefully bought all i need. First major stop is usually at the meat seller's. These days i even have fun haranguing prices with them unlike the first few times when i had to go to the market unaccompanied by my mom; then I'd have to go to her 'customer' who sells dried fish and give her the list of things to buy - especially meat, or better still when i got bolder I'd go to her 'meat customer' and tell him how much meat i wanted to buy and he'd (in my mind, generously) cut me a sizable portion. Sadly, whenever i got home my mother was hardly ever impressed with my bargaining power, plus the meat seemed to have shrunk in size somewhere between the trip back from the market.
Well on the bright side, this market was somewhat better than Idiaraba. Even when it rained, I didn't feel so yucky. However, both markets have something in common-they are notoriously volatile and one has to be very careful, watchful (and prayerful) on each trip there because a seeming normalcy could turn into a scene from a horror movie within a split second - no joke here, no exaggeration either. I remember once it took my mom an unusually long time to return from the market and we didn't think much of it until she came back with an almost unbelievable story but also a scar to show for it - thankfully she wasn't mortally wounded because it was that serious, she sustained the injury while struggling with a thousand and one other people to get on the last few buses, and the buses were on their part had substantial excuse to drive as reckless as they dared to (and they do reckless on a good day).
Even if i wanted to, I couldn't dilly-dally for long at the Market once i start my purchases because of the increasing weightiness i almost always harbour.
It seemed lately that my life was all about going to market and i deeply resented it. I didn't really mind going to market but having to do that everyday (even if for different reasons) will be the undoing of any averagely sane person- or so i strongly believe. For goodness' sake there are a thousand other things to do - like go to the beach, go to birthday parties (or just parties), go to .... not movies, cinemas were still a rarity. Anyways, one of the consolations i got from keeping at it was that i hated to see my mom coming home from the market with her stuffed bags - one on her head and one on her hand ( i sometimes can't help but think she does it intentionally just to rub it in my face that i am a less-than-well-trained daughter), but nothing beats me accompanying my mom to the market in my rank of utter dislike. Moreover, it is time-out for me, my only excuse to do as i will - as long as i don't overdo it and as long as i come home with the said items i went to purchase - don't get me wrong, i wasn't overly into truancy, just the average. It takes me about 8mins to get to the market using the public bus transportation that plies that route. My usual routine is to get off a stop before the final bus stop and take a short cut through the market, start at that end of the market so that by the time i walk all the way to the other end, i'd have been closer to the final bus stop and on my jolly way home, having hopefully bought all i need. First major stop is usually at the meat seller's. These days i even have fun haranguing prices with them unlike the first few times when i had to go to the market unaccompanied by my mom; then I'd have to go to her 'customer' who sells dried fish and give her the list of things to buy - especially meat, or better still when i got bolder I'd go to her 'meat customer' and tell him how much meat i wanted to buy and he'd (in my mind, generously) cut me a sizable portion. Sadly, whenever i got home my mother was hardly ever impressed with my bargaining power, plus the meat seemed to have shrunk in size somewhere between the trip back from the market.
Well on the bright side, this market was somewhat better than Idiaraba. Even when it rained, I didn't feel so yucky. However, both markets have something in common-they are notoriously volatile and one has to be very careful, watchful (and prayerful) on each trip there because a seeming normalcy could turn into a scene from a horror movie within a split second - no joke here, no exaggeration either. I remember once it took my mom an unusually long time to return from the market and we didn't think much of it until she came back with an almost unbelievable story but also a scar to show for it - thankfully she wasn't mortally wounded because it was that serious, she sustained the injury while struggling with a thousand and one other people to get on the last few buses, and the buses were on their part had substantial excuse to drive as reckless as they dared to (and they do reckless on a good day).
Even if i wanted to, I couldn't dilly-dally for long at the Market once i start my purchases because of the increasing weightiness i almost always harbour.
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