Ah yes, the good ol' days of remote banter. For me, I was lucky to grow up watching with a colored TV. Even though we didnt have DSTV or GoTV,we however had a dish we nicknamed "24/7" and a DVD player.
My parents, being church ministers, wanted to be able to watch church broadcasts, so the dish was bought. Most of the channels on "24/7" were church-focused, which was perfect for them. But for my siblings and me, the real highlight channel was HosannaTV. It was our little treasure of entertainment
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Every day after school, the routine was the same. My school closed at 3:30 PM, and by 4:00 PM, my siblings and I would be sitted in front of the tv praying for electricity(light). And once there is light, all that mattered was catching our favorite programs. I still remember the first time I watched Astro Boy on HosannaTV. That movie? Mind-blowing. Even now, I’d rank it as one of the best animations I’ve ever seen.
But while the TV brought my sibling and I together, the remote tore us apart. Ah, the remote—such a small thing, yet it held so much power. With three of us (my senior brother, me, and my younger sister), there was no such thing as peacefully agreeing on what to watch when it came to playing DVD. Each of us had our favorite DVDs, and with only one screen, compromise was out of the question.
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The battle for control was something else. The moment that high-pitched sound of electricity being restored is heard, it was game on. You could hear the thud of our feet as we abandoned whatever we were doing, charging towards the remote. Homework, food, chores—everything else could wait.
The rule was simple: first come, first serve. Whoever got the remote first was the ruler of the TV. But rules are made to be bent—or broken. We came up with all kinds of sneaky ways to secure the remote. Sometimes we’d hide it under couch cushions, or stuff it into random drawers. My brother once hid it inside a cereal box, and when there was light he was not even at home but me and my sister looked and looked for it, we didn't find it until my brother came home and brought it out.
Now? Things are... different. We’ve grown up. Matured. And with that maturity comes the understanding that fighting over a remote is, well, kind of ridiculous. The TV, which once felt like a treasure, now sits quietly in the corner, barely turned on.
Why? Because life has taken over.
Between school, work, and other responsibilities, none of us have the luxury of spending hours in front of the TV. And even when we do have free time, we don’t need the TV anymore. We’ve got phones—tiny, powerful devices that do so much more than the television ever could. Whether it’s streaming movies, catching up on shows, or scrolling through endless reels, everything is right there in the palm of our hands.
But here’s the thing: even with all this convenience, I still miss those simpler times. Every now and then, I hear that high-pitched sound of electricity being restored, and it takes me right back. I remember the sound of running feet, the arguments over what to watch, and the laughter that followed when someone inevitably cheated their way to the remote.
I smiled because those moments, chaotic as they were, held a kind of magic.