Mother, do you recognize my face? See I haven’t changed
much. You remember my sheepish smiles. I still wear them. I have tried
severally to remind you about who I am but you seem to grow more distant. I
swear I’ve changed. I’m older and wiser and stronger. You remember how you
shove NTA at me and stuffed all its
contents down my throat. Well, that was what you had at that time and
I’m grateful for them. My childhood memories, hang, like my muffler around my
neck. I remember Cadbury Breakfast Telly shows and all the cartoons I watched.
I doubt you remember watching some of them with me. There was Superted, Fraggle
Rock, Muppet Babies, The Little Prince and Jabber Jaw. How will I not speak of
Sesame Street, 3-2-1 Contact, Kidi Vision 101 and Voltron. Oh no! there was
Doctor Who, Fawlty Towers, Some Mothers Do Have Them, The Adventures of the
Famous Five, Rent-a-Ghost, and Behind the Clouds. Little Mama would give me One
Naira and Fifty Kobo to buy a loaf of bread so that I could eat as breakfast
with Pronto and Dano Milk before going to school the next day. You were not
exactly the perfect mother at that time but I wasn’t complaining. Maybe I knew
too little to complain. Mama provided my basic needs and I thought she could
sustain providence because of your benignity towards her. As little as I was, I
was an observant child as well as a keen listener. I didn’t have 2000 channels
in my face or the internet tugging at me. I could observe, eavesdrop, relay and
remember as young as I was.