Started this yesterday, mostly in attempt to test my focus, and so far, it’s working.
Find link to Day 1 here.
Your earliest memory
The older I get, the more I regret not maintaining a diary. Not like it would have helped me remember my earliest memory but, considering the cobweby fog that I see staring into the past, in a decade I probably would be hard pressed to remember today. That said, my earliest memories all revolve around growing up in a little town just off the Owerri-Port Harcourt-Aba road.
Sifting through those memories, like clawing though smoke, I’m awash with feelings of laughter and discovery. Learning that water is cool, that fire was hot, and that while sand can be fun to play with, and make into many shapes, it stings when it gets in your eyes.
One memory stands out in that very dim image, motivated perhaps by the fact that the picture exists somewhere, though I cannot recall now. I am perhaps 2 years, sitting on my legs, Japanese style, a feat I can barely attempt today, while my picture is being taken. My hair is combed out in an afro, cheeks plumpy like only a lot of akamu, sprinked through with soya bean powder and the occasional spoon of milk, can do. I am wearing a tiny blue singlet with brown stripes and shorts that match, staring into the camera defiantly.
I cannot remember much else of this memory, except that I was happy. Completely happy. I was at peace with the world, at ease and encouraged to learn, expected to laugh. It’s a sharp contrast with this day in 2019, where the expectations I face are that one be sombre and learning is restricted to the belief of the herd mind.
That 2 year old kid, stares back at me now, meaty arms planted on the sandy floor of my grandfather’s compound, and dares me not to be happy, not to be at ease.
Ha. Do I have a choice?
- I regularly listen to advice from my younger selves. It’s a genuine sign of humility. Yes.
- Also, the wisdom of your more naive self cannot be overestimated
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