By Eigbe Palmer Sandra Oseahumen
Oh I miss the good old days….I grew up in a small community where ‘everybody knew everybody’ ☺️. Where your neighbour is considered as a member of the family irrespective of the clan or actual family he/she is from.
Where children from different houses or compounds were not separated by ‘fences’. Where friends help each other to do house-chore, so they can have more time to play… hmm(sigh). But now, I know my neighbours by their voices without knowing their faces because there is a big fence demarcating my compound from their …oh! What a world.😔
I grew up in a community, where a new mother only gets to carry her baby when he/she becomes hungry or has fallen asleep, not because the new-mother is feeling too tired or busy to carry her baby, but because there are lots of children awaiting their turns to carry, play with, or even to strap the baby on their backs. There were so many people around her ranging from relatives, friends, neighbours to members from her worship centres who are glad to assist with errands and chores, enabling her enough time to relax. Let me quickly add this, the birth of a child is heralded with so much joy and jubilations, women especially the mother or mother-in-law to the new mother goes about sharing powder, announcing the birth of a new life in the family. This powder was shared to everyone even in the market places, and you don’t need to know who gave birth, all you have to do is to stretch forth your hand and they scoop some into to palm to rub on your forehead or chest… they were not stingy with their powder as some serving hosts do to party jollof rice in present-day receptions (laughs).With shouts of amonghon! amonghon!! (Meaning congratulations)and chants of baby songs done in the local dialect(Esan language) filling the air.
I was brought up in a rural setting, where good morals were of a high standard, where an elder can correct or discipline an erring child(ren), irrespective of whom their parents where. In a time where a child dare not sit-down while an adult is standing nor eavesdrop into their conversation.
In a place where ‘school runs’ does not exist, because your child can go to school in the company of his/her school mates and return home safely, all their parents have to say before they leave for school is “make una look road well well before una cross o”. A time where a mother could leave her children in the care of her neighbours as she goes for her trade at “Illushi market” and she comes back to meet them in one piece, and at times, depending on her time of arrival, the neighbour must have bathed, fed or even put them to sleep.
I was raised in a small community where children from different streets and compounds gather to play “emido” or even “ogbelololo” in the cool of the evening and even to midnights in days when the moon was outshining so bright, and afterwards, we lie down on our mats telling stories and folklore 😄.
In the days, where you could send a child on an errand and he zooms off with the imaginary sound of an aeroplane on a flight coming out from his mouth because he knows that it was either he gets a thank you tip or a share from the food you cooked especially if it was rice.
In the days when all you needed to host a party was community cooperation, just inform the women in your “idumu/ egbele” (quarter) that your son/daughter is getting married and they turn up in their numbers to assist you with cooking or what have you. The young men are set with their cutlass to help you maintain your compound and on the D-day, they take position beside the mortar and pestle ready to pound the yams.
Oh! How we looked forward to the markets days done every fortnight (4 days) because we know that after helping our mothers take their goods/ wares to the market places, they will reward us with local snacks and delicacies which includes; “izeuko”(native rice tied with leaves), “emumu”(rounded balls of blended groundnut, pepper and other ingredients),”masa bi amoriri”( made from maize fried with red oil in a cake-like form, eaten with a honey-like substance),”iyeye”,”ikpapka”,”orishuga”,”okwuka”, “eka igali”, “omadidi” and so on. (N.B: can’t give the English translation for the others). We cared less about pizza, sausage rolls or even shawarma… did we even know if such things existed then?. Life was simple, primitive (you may think, yes that was not a far-fetched truth), we didn’t have much but we were happy and we slept with our eyes closed.
Christmas was mad fun, doing the count-down with your mates was something else, planning routes ahead for the ‘shene’ (special visitation), choosing whose house should be the first point of call (laughs). Boasting about our Christmas clothes and shoes, the excitements of having your feet measured with a broomstick (OMG), this increases your expectation of a new pair of shoes, and oh! What a greater joy if you were chosen to follow your mother to the market, hulalaa!……. you can imagine the feeling. Coming back home with lots of gist for your siblings and playmates, leaving them to bask in the euphoria of your experience. And then comes December 24th,” ha, watch night day” heralded with the shooting of knockouts, bangers, disco lights and the elderly ones exchanging greetings of “owesena, senowele” (can be christened into compliments of the season), and the children sneaking in and out of their mothers’ room just to catch a glimpse of their Christmas outfits for the umpteenth time….
And it’s dawn, here comes December 25th, Christmas day…. With the sweet smell of the harmattan breeze, mixed with smokes from firewood emitting from different compounds, the children are outside boasting about the numbers of ‘fowls’ (okhokho) or goats (ewe) their parents bought for Christmas.
The mothers are in the kitchen, picking dirt from rice (ize esan) or parboiling the Uncle Bens (foreign rice). The fathers and young men are helping out with the slaughtering of the animals and food is ready 😋.The first batch is served on the tray and the children gather round to eat with their bare hands (the use of spoon in this situation is considered a waste of time), I remember my cousin brother Joe-Joe by name trying to outsmart us by picking more meats than us. And then we grew and forgot how Christmas used to be…. How sad.🤦♀️
I remember the first time I celebrated Christmas in the ‘city’, I slept from morning till late in the afternoon, I was bored, and there was practically nowhere to go, nobody to share the usual ‘Christmas rice’ with, no children around to dance ‘ukpodu’(masquerade) because we were living a ‘fenced life’. Then I sat back and imagined myself, if I were to be in the village celebrating Christmas, what “episode of fun” would I have gotten to.😔
What more should I say about my rural upbringing… so much to write on. Friendship, respects, hard work, being domesticated e.t.c.
I can’t remember buying fruits from the markets, they were everywhere. We grew some, others we pluck from neighbours or even from trees growing along the bush paths. Schoolchildren gather to play under these trees while returning from school, chattering noisily, they seemed to be ‘constituting nuisance’ then, but now viewing it through my adult eyes, they are a sight to behold, cause in the city where we all live now, there is nothing of such.
Children now leave home to school, and thereafter, leaves from school to another ‘school’ in the home. Playing after school is now termed ‘unseriousness’. There is no time for them to bond with friends or live out their childhood, they stay indoors, watching T.Vs, at other times visiting recreational centres, but no time for human- friendship except in schools, which is limited as most schools now substitute break-time for lunch…sad right…yeah, the world is evolving. Pulse to think, don’t you think these trends will lead to the creation of humans who are ro.bots in the nearest future?
Growing up, you check up on a friend who missed out from school, a worship program or peer- group gathering, you visit them at home to know how they are faring. Sometimes, you take along with you your school notes to help them update theirs. But the ‘friends’ of the ‘city’ children are the smartphones/ electronic gadgets, friendship is via social media(all virtual).
Africa my Africa what has become of thou? Why have thou exchanged thy heritage?
I know what you are thinking right now… you are saying “but there are witches and wizards in the villages”. Don’t worry they are everywhere, even in that’ city’ of yours.
This is not a write-up to compare the past with the present, nor stone- age with jet- age, neither is it a pointer of present-day technology versus olden days primitiveness.
Our hearts are growing cold, creating barriers like the fences we build, that we cannot see our neighbours anymore.
Respect is now termed ‘old-fashioned’. A toddler can now challenge the authority of an elder.
We don’t care about friendships anymore but benefits… What do I stand to gain?
Sharing of food/ alms-giving must be publicized on social media platforms, if not it’s not relevant.
Our likes and comments keep increasing each day by the posts we share on these platforms, yet lots and lots of persons keep dy.ing from depression and lack of a true friend to communicate with.
Family members no longer sit-down to eat together, communication is now a wish.
People are getting richer in cash, but poorer in acts of kindness and love.
Houses are getting bigger with plenty of rooms but the rooms are getting colder with lack of love, unlike the good old days where we could all gather around our small kitchen fire, telling stories while roasting corn or yams.
Then I asked myself again, if I were to be born in that same village in this present age and time, would my experience(s) be the same or would it be a different story?
But we are no longer in the primitive age, we are now in the 21st century, with technology… I just heard somebody reading this whisper… Yes, my dear, that is why like the modernized and technologically advanced being that we are, we now have hea.rts like that of a ro.bot, being controlled by an excessive desire for completing a task, competing with neighbours, showing-off, creating class and so on, that we no longer see ra.pe, domestic violence, election malpractices, insurgencies, creation of nuclear or biological weapon, kid.napping, looting, embezz.ling public funds, money laundering, betrayal, ritual- kill.ing, human –trafficking, internet fraud e.t.c., as a crime because like ro.bots we have no hea.rt for humanity.
Africa oh Africa! How have thou fallen so deep, while conscious…
Why have thou replaced virtue for vices, humanity for materialism, real friendship for virtual friendship?
Africa ! oh Africa !! what have thou exchange their heritage for? Why have thou chosen to exchange peace and love for ‘modernity’ at the exchange rate of greed and w.ar?
I am only but a part of this whole and so are you. Can we ever retrace our root? Can the soil still recognize the seeds we have become? Is there still nutrient for goodness in us? Can we ever sprout love again?
Oh, my Africa!.
Written by: Eigbe_ Palmer Sandra Oseahumen (Mrs.)