Looking back over the years and looking at my journey growing in Nigeria, I will say I have been that kid that share this strong bond with wahala when growing up. To be sincere actually, it was not really intentional just that it was as a result one constant habit that several times I have tried to shake it off but all to no avail. I believe many of us must have been in this shoe at one point in our lifes. Growing up, I have this habit of always saying that which is in my mind not minding the consequences that might follows.
Well some will say it is tagged talking too much but not really that case alone for me. It was kind of saying things that I should not have said because it is at the wrong place and also at the wrong time. And on several occasions, this habit draws trouble for me on several occasions.
Nigerian parents for me are always strict when it comes to respect. They don't play with it. African parents for that reason, if they ask you to jump, if you actually know that which is good for you, start jumping. I can still remember vividly, with this mouth of mine, it actually lands me into several troubles most especially with my parents and with my teachers. For me, is either I was talking back to my parents at home or I was giving a sharp response in school. I will always have something to say even when I know that obviously, silence should be the best option.
Let me share with you one of my experience that even after many years still makes me laugh. There is this fateful weekend, i can still remember it was a Saturday morning. My mum had sent me to help her get some ingredients she will be using for jollof rice at the market. In fact I can still remember vividly, she instructed me to go to her regular customer then, Iya Kudi as currently then, the woman always sell the best tomatoes.
But as per say this my wahala spirit will not let me rest. I collected the money from her and so instead of me heading straight to the market, I branched at the popular football field not really that far from our market then. You know how our brain deceive us na, I decided to have just small football as I actually didn't plan to stay for long. But at the end of the day, I have played for more than 2 hours.
It was when it was around 2-3 hours that it actually dawn on me that I was sent an errands. I instantly dashed to the market as I was covered with dust and sweating like a Christmas goat in a bid to get to Iya Kudi shop as fast as possible if possible faster than The Flash. But getting to her shop that day, it was late, all the tomatoes she had for that day has been sold. In anxiety and total fear of what will I said to my mother back home, I find another alternative sharp sharp. I have no chance but to get some sad looking tomatoes from another seller in the market, I ran and ran home and gave my mother both the ingredients and the change pretending as if nothing happened.
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Of course, we all known that Nigerian mothers are best detective and my mother is not left out. Immediately she saw the tomatoes I got, she instantly knew something was wrong somewhere, I guess probably it was not looking as the usual one she always gets from Iya Kudi. She asked me directly as I can't forget that statement in Yoruba. "Where do you actually get this tomatoes from?"
At that particular time, I felt like the ground should open and swallow me up. Well I have no choice but to lie because I was afraid what she will do if she finds out the truths. "From Iay Kudi Ma". I never knew I was deceiveing myself then. My mother actually knows tomatoes that are fresh, overpriced and where I got it from.
Before I could say another word, She gave me that famous Nigerian Mother look. I instantly started confessing but the mistake I made was the fact that instead I should give a very calm explanation, my mouth actually implicated me once again. "Well, at least I did not come back home empty-handed." Before I could know what next, my mother had used the broom close to her to give me this hitting that only the Nigerian Mother can deliver.
After that day, I actually started thinking very deep before just running my mouth or talking anyhow but that didn't even cure it yet. I will say it actually takes lot of discipline in form of brooms(thanks to my mother for that), slippers, and even slaps coming from my parents and my teachers because I finally at the end of the day understand that at this rate I am going, my mouth is causing me more harm than the good and that is because I can't control myself.
Years have come and go and I have finally understood much more better than it is actually better to think thoroughly before speaking most especially when you know that you did not even understand the situation yet. The society we are in, my experience has made me to understand that nobody likes a know-it-all somebody. Little by little, I began to actually master the art of controlling my mouth and the urge to talk and I will say fast forwarded to over 10 years now, I have gained mastery of it. Of course at first it was not easy but as time goes by, I begin to develop it within me. Not everything I give my opinion on as sometimes it is just better been silent.