"No guilt is forgotten so long as the conscience still knows of it.” – Stefan Zweig
This is the case for me as I still remembered something that happened when I was younger. Then, I was always fond of playing whilst doing house chores especially when I am washing plates, I will be so distracted and end up breaking some plates. This always gets my mum angry and she had always warned me severally to always be careful when washing but her warnings fell on deaf ears.
When it got to a stage where about 8 dozen breakable plates were reduced to like 2 dozen, she knew she had to devise other means to make me reduce the way I break the plates, it's not like she brings everything out at once. She only replaces them two at a time whenever I break them. She knew she can't tell me to stop washing as I am the only one amongst my siblings who is old enough to do house chores and another reason is that I will use that as an avenue to stop washing plates. When she noticed I was keen on breaking them, she gave me a final warning that the next plate I will break she will use it to draw on my face the type of tribal mark I always see on my aunt's and uncle's faces.
In Nigeria, mostly amongst the Yoruba and sometimes the Hausa ethnic groups, tribal marks are lacerations made on the face and are considered part of the culture. My grandmother, grandfather, and some of my extended families have these tribal marks on their faces. It is also considered a way of recognizing one's kin when you meet them somewhere. So when a baby is born then, it is more like a privilege to have that mark and while some people wear it with pride some people disliked it because it disfigures their face. My parents also have them but theirs is barely visible.
Tribal marks gradually became extinct as most children were born in the city and some parents frown on it as they wished to save their children from the same fate they were meted. So in time, it became a thing of the past. My mum's threat about the tribal marks kept me in check as I knew her to be always true to her words, even though I knew now that she wouldn't have done it but I didn't know then as I thought it was something she would do. Thereafter, I became very conscious when washing as I always make sure I take my time to wash the plates carefully, it's not that we all use breakables to eat, we children use unbreakable ceramics or sometimes plastic plates but my parents especially my dad always use breakables so I always had to wash them all the time. The method seemed to tame me and I no longer have issues of breaking plates until one fine afternoon.
One of our neighbors gave birth to a baby boy and another of our culture since they are also from the same ethnic group as ours is to name the baby after seven days. It is mostly accompanied by a party which is usually termed a "Naming Ceremony". On D-day, a lot of people attended and there were lots of dancing and so on it happens that the window to our kitchen is situated directly opposite their house, so you could see the people dancing and other events taking place at the party. I was washing in the kitchen at the time and I was so engrossed with the kinds of dances going on around me that I mistakenly broke a plate.
I immediately came back to my senses and knew the consequences of what had just happened. I was very frightened as I knew that day I will also be wearing a tribal mark by the time my mum gets back from the party. I pondered on what to do after I managed to wash the remaining plates and an idea struck in my tiny head. I looked at the plates and saw that it was divided into two not into pieces so I carefully placed the two pieces beside each other while I set them into the basin where we keep plates after washing. I planned that I would feign ignorance if my mum finds out it was broken. I immediately went inside and pretended to sleep.
After a while, my mum came home bringing some party rice for us and my younger ones were so eager to devour the food. My mum sent my younger sister to get a breakable plate for her and other plates that we the children would use. Luckily for me, she was very excited to eat that she took the plates in a hurry and they all fell and crashed on the floor and the breakable further broke into pieces. We all hurried to check the cause of the crash we heard and my mum saw that her plate was broken into pieces. My mum just looked at her and told her to move away from where the pieces are and told me to sweep them off. My mum scolded her and told her she won't be eating out of the meat she will share with us.
I felt guilty because I knew it wasn't her fault but mine as the plates were already broken before she took it but I wasn't willing to tell my mum. I only offered to give her out of my meat, but my mum said I must not give her that she had to bear the consequences of her actions. She further taunted her that it seems she wants to replace me in the art of breaking plates. I looked at my sister's sad and swollen face as she ate her rice without meat. I was glad she wasn't injured but till today no one knew it was my fault.