Hello guys,
It's your potential blogger here again.
Sorry I've been off for over two days now, the power outages here seem to be more durable than I anticipated but not to worry, I'll always find a way to keep on being active.
So as a result of the recent constant power outages, I developed an habit of searching through my sister's books to find something to keep me busy, you know? A good novel or a magazine to pass the time. Unfortunately she hid her good stuff in a locked cupboard and left for me Ghanaian fable story books. So I had to make do with them.
As weird as it was reading about the greedy boy that turned to stone and the snake that turned into a beautiful woman, it was even weirder reading about the greedy boy that turned to stone while picking up a stranger's money and the snake that turned into a beautiful woman and married the king!!!. But I admired something about those books, I admired the fact that I admired nothing about then.
OK so I'm sitting down in a comfy couche looking down at this tiny handbill of a novel completely disgusted and constantly rolling my eyes after every scene and then I asked myself
why go through this torture alone?, am sure a lot of people need to see that awful books exist.
But due to the strict plagiarism laws am not going to post them.
Instead, am going to share with you all some ideas that isn't so far fetched, or are they?
Growing up in Nigeria, we were told a lot of scary tales that I suppose were met to guide our actions because I never saw any true proof of the tales although many validated them. So right now am going to be sharing with you one of such tales.
So imagine me a nine year old kid attending a very popular school in a very nice neighborhood, void of any sentiment and superstition, just all rounded innocence peeping out of those big round almond shaped eyes of mine. So it was recess and an emergency assembly was called and this was the first time for me to attend an "emergency assembly".
don't mind me, those words seem to mean a big deal.
So the kids are arranged in a queue like row and column formation with emphasis on our classes and hight respectively. Mrs Doris emerges from her office and walks to the front of the assembly with such poise that made me shiver.
again don't mind me, I was just a nine year old who had received corporal punishment on her orders.
She takes the mic from a teacher who I now understand was a sycophant then she begins her speech.
Good afternoon pupils, today I've come to you all with an important and serious information, but first I'd like to warn you all never to collect anything from strangers, pick money from the floor that's not yours, and offer assistance of any kind to an adult stranger.
Recently we have had rumours of children turning to yams, chickens and money all over the state as a result of not yielding to theses warnings I just gave to you and I stand here in front of you to confirm them. Recently I had a neighbor lost her son to these occurrences and I won't stand to lose any of my pupils. Do you hear me?.
We all answered in the affirmative and she spooked us a little more with her storys and then dismissed us.
Foreign kids had to deal with the boogey man and Santa Claus giving 'em coal for being naughty, but here I was, a nine year old kid trying to deal with the idea of being turned into a yam or a pile of cash or worse a chicken for picking things that aren't mine and being used for rituals. Although I never saw any manifestations of such things, a lot of people claimed it to be real including my mum. If the Mrs Doris goal was to spook me for life then mission accomplished because I still feel the cold breeze of fear running through me as I type this.
