₦airaland Forum

Parents who just speak bad words to their children are not just it at all... They just go on comparing their kids to other children not knowing dat those other kids may even be worse dan them.

mcdokwe:
Amen, you definitely don't know what you'd be missing

Probably. But I'm not that patient and what I dnt knw can't hurt me.

mcdokwe:
I was born into what I consider a street life, public compounds and all its troubles.

My hustling parents still made sure I got the best especially in education but that didn’t in any way help as I picked up the most annoying and shameful personality.

I even as a kid would keep late nights without carrying out household chores and when it becomes apparent that I couldn’t escape my parents “do good,” opt to sleep out in trucks and sheds, I would occasionally sneak in and proceed to make under the bed my beautiful foams, this habit was cultivated to mitigate the effect of the surprise floggings mum especially had this habit of using deep into the mornings when she’d flog sleep out of my eyes. By the time she’d drag me out, I’d be fully awake to bear the consequences of my sins. How I managed to stay top of my class in primary school then still escapes me as I’d play my life out on daily basis.

I would pilfer on people, unsuspecting people whose heart I easily warmed up into and would sustain my belly and as such could keep avoiding home.

Oh! God bless my mum and grant my dad eternal rest. I’d constantly make “withdrawals” from their “home banks” and with it, live large in school. And constantly devised various methods to avoid detection. My neatly wrapped note books served as conduits to hide my loots to avoid detection and when that method failed, I resorted to hiding them in shoes, pens, I’d tear up the folds of my shirts and shorts and pass the folded cash into them. God knows if I had continued like that, I would have ended up a highway robber and maybe dead by now.
I was closely marked so I no go do, but two loose seconds were more than enough for me to hit a bounty when need be. I was a nightmare to my parents and at appoint when my dad moved and left us to the care of my mum, my constant acts made my dad make up his mind to come and take him along lest I killed his darling wife with HBP.
It is totally and completely ignoble thing to do, and looking back, I wonder what prompted me into such.

While staying with my dad, he once called me and told me how I was his favorite child. Till date, I still can’t tell how and why, because apart from the consequences of being the black sheep of the family, I was often the last to get gifts as they bothered me not.

Yes, I spent more time with my dad possibly due to the close marking I needed to keep my deviant behavior in check and naturally predisposed to his kind of job, but I still didn’t and haven’t seen how I was the favorite child; but I was deeply touched. He spoke of how my act pains him more than it would have if it were to be from anyone else and it sunk, he also said I wouldn’t stop being his favourite child notwithstanding. Today, thanks to those words, I’d rather dig poo to feed than pilfer on anyone. Well, the house chores are still there but I can at least shout my younger ones into doing them.

My Dad’s words (sweet and not the curses) made me a better person that I am today.

I had hoped that he lives for me to show him how much proud I was prepared to make him but death had other plans which were stronger.

Touching! Strengthens my resolve to be a good Dad! I love my wife and Children.

zonax:
Such words do have far reaching effects than any other corrective measure could ever have. I can relate.
Meanwhile nice story. You have an excellent command of diction which is uncommon with those that grew up in such neighbourhood as you painted.

It depends on your understanding, and I remember saying I got the best education in the post.

mcdokwe:
I was born into what I consider a street life, public compounds and all its troubles.

My hustling parents still made sure I got the best especially in education but that didn’t in any way help as I picked up the most annoying and shameful personality.

I even as a kid would keep late nights without carrying out household chores and when it becomes apparent that I couldn’t escape my parents “do good,” opt to sleep out in trucks and sheds, I would occasionally sneak in and proceed to make under the bed my beautiful foams, this habit was cultivated to mitigate the effect of the surprise floggings mum especially had this habit of using deep into the mornings when she’d flog sleep out of my eyes. By the time she’d drag me out, I’d be fully awake to bear the consequences of my sins. How I managed to stay top of my class in primary school then still escapes me as I’d play my life out on daily basis.

I would pilfer on people, unsuspecting people whose heart I easily warmed up into and would sustain my belly and as such could keep avoiding home.

Oh! God bless my mum and grant my dad eternal rest. I’d constantly make “withdrawals” from their “home banks” and with it, live large in school. And constantly devised various methods to avoid detection. My neatly wrapped note books served as conduits to hide my loots to avoid detection and when that method failed, I resorted to hiding them in shoes, pens, I’d tear up the folds of my shirts and shorts and pass the folded cash into them. God knows if I had continued like that, I would have ended up a highway robber and maybe dead by now.
I was closely marked so I no go do, but two loose seconds were more than enough for me to hit a bounty when need be. I was a nightmare to my parents and at appoint when my dad moved and left us to the care of my mum, my constant acts made my dad make up his mind to come and take him along lest I killed his darling wife with HBP.
It is totally and completely ignoble thing to do, and looking back, I wonder what prompted me into such.

While staying with my dad, he once called me and told me how I was his favorite child. Till date, I still can’t tell how and why, because apart from the consequences of being the black sheep of the family, I was often the last to get gifts as they bothered me not.

Yes, I spent more time with my dad possibly due to the close marking I needed to keep my deviant behavior in check and naturally predisposed to his kind of job, but I still didn’t and haven’t seen how I was the favorite child; but I was deeply touched. He spoke of how my act pains him more than it would have if it were to be from anyone else and it sunk, he also said I wouldn’t stop being his favourite child notwithstanding. Today, thanks to those words, I’d rather dig poo to feed than pilfer on anyone. Well, the house chores are still there but I can at least shout my younger ones into doing them.

My Dad’s words (sweet and not the curses) made me a better person that I am today.

I had hoped that he lives for me to show him how much proud I was prepared to make him but death had other plans which were stronger.

sounds like me from the I to the T, except for the father and relationship duo, still wondering how I manage to come out top in class, the experience makes one independent and tough, I can say I enjoyed it but I just did it.

I still enjoy being the black sheep of the family duo,my father's shoes is something I would want for myself.

#thats just me.

musicwriter:
Yes, I will write something on that in future as I said. Indeed, it will be very inspiring.

In a nutshell.......

After several other past events.

I studied HISTORY and GEOGRAPHY in secondary school without a teacher, because we didn't have a teacher for the two subjects in our community school. But, I've been reading these subjects independently even before I entered secondary school.

On choosing subjects for WAEC, I listed the two subjects among my chosen course. But, because my subjects were different from every other student, our school principal saw it and called me to his office. On getting there he asked me why I included HISTORY and GEOGRAPHY. Well, I told him there were my best subjects. Then, he asked me; do you mean you've been running a parallel curriculum in this school?. Of which I answered YES.

He refused that I enter the two subjects for WAEC. He said I should resubmit my WAEC subjects without HISTORY and GEOGRAPHY (in hindsight I can see he thought he wanted to help me do the right thing).

But, I refused. I told him that I've been studying those subjects for too long, even before I entered secondary school. I told him repeatedly "HISTORY and GEOGRAPHY are my best subjects". He thought I was out of my mind. Actually, everybody thought I was out of my mind.

He then decided to test me. Later that day he came to our class and he told the whole class what was happening and that he was going to ask me some questions in the presence of my classmates. If I get the answers correct I will write HISTORY and GEOGRAPHY in my WAEC. And if I fail his questions I'll not take them.

First, using an atlas he drew a map of Eurasia (parts of Europe and Asia) and told me to point at "India, Sri Lanka, and Russia". Which I did gallantly in a Flash!. He asked me a couple of other questions on GEOGRAPHY, and I answered all of them without fail. Actually, I've been longing for someone to ask me such questions over the years. But, there was nobody to help me. That was the first and only day a teacher ever wrote "GEOGRAPHY" in a chalk board for me.

Long story short, I shocked the school principal. The man was so shocked about my knowledge of GEOGRAPHY and HISTORY such that he later came to our house that evening to inform my father that whatever he do he must send me to university. Henceforth, he began to address me as Mr. Geography, of which I was proud to answer.

I later sat for GEOGRAPHY for WAEC and got credit C5. I was the only student in the examination hall that day, no expos, just me and the question paper. History was dropped because according to the school principal I couldn't convince him I would do it alone. That was his assumption, but it wasn't correct. I would've still credited HISTORY, if he allowed me.

I don't want to write longer. This may actually be put in a book to inspire others as you said. I'm a living proof you can study anything you want on your own. As a matter of fact, in the process I discovered how to learn, how to teach, how to get a student conceptualize a topic, how to create knowledge, how to decolonize the minds of Africans. As I speak I've discovered a new subject called "unlearn" because everything we've learned in life is not always true. Unlearn will help address most of the world's problem like racism which started off as ignorance in Europe. This's a whole new story on it's own.

Let's leave it for another day.

if yhu do not write the story,am sure will be angry with yhu.

mzvyne:
this is a really nice story...
And u were a really stubborn kid.

oh yes I was!

mcdokwe:
I was born into what I consider a street life, public compounds and all its troubles.

My hustling parents still made sure I got the best especially in education but that didn’t in any way help as I picked up the most annoying and shameful personality.

I even as a kid would keep late nights without carrying out household chores and when it becomes apparent that I couldn’t escape my parents “do good,” opt to sleep out in trucks and sheds, I would occasionally sneak in and proceed to make under the bed my beautiful foams, this habit was cultivated to mitigate the effect of the surprise floggings mum especially had this habit of using deep into the mornings when she’d flog sleep out of my eyes. By the time she’d drag me out, I’d be fully awake to bear the consequences of my sins. How I managed to stay top of my class in primary school then still escapes me as I’d play my life out on daily basis.

I would pilfer on people, unsuspecting people whose heart I easily warmed up into and would sustain my belly and as such could keep avoiding home.

Oh! God bless my mum and grant my dad eternal rest. I’d constantly make “withdrawals” from their “home banks” and with it, live large in school. And constantly devised various methods to avoid detection. My neatly wrapped note books served as conduits to hide my loots to avoid detection and when that method failed, I resorted to hiding them in shoes, pens, I’d tear up the folds of my shirts and shorts and pass the folded cash into them. God knows if I had continued like that, I would have ended up a highway robber and maybe dead by now.
I was closely marked so I no go do, but two loose seconds were more than enough for me to hit a bounty when need be. I was a nightmare to my parents and at appoint when my dad moved and left us to the care of my mum, my constant acts made my dad make up his mind to come and take him along lest I killed his darling wife with HBP.
It is totally and completely ignoble thing to do, and looking back, I wonder what prompted me into such.

While staying with my dad, he once called me and told me how I was his favorite child. Till date, I still can’t tell how and why, because apart from the consequences of being the black sheep of the family, I was often the last to get gifts as they bothered me not.

Yes, I spent more time with my dad possibly due to the close marking I needed to keep my deviant behavior in check and naturally predisposed to his kind of job, but I still didn’t and haven’t seen how I was the favorite child; but I was deeply touched. He spoke of how my act pains him more than it would have if it were to be from anyone else and it sunk, he also said I wouldn’t stop being his favourite child notwithstanding. Today, thanks to those words, I’d rather dig poo to feed than pilfer on anyone. Well, the house chores are still there but I can at least shout my younger ones into doing them.

My Dad’s words (sweet and not the curses) made me a better person that I am today.

I had hoped that he lives for me to show him how much proud I was prepared to make him but death had other plans which were stronger.

OP,you were what my mum'll call "a real sobongo"(stubborn goat).

mcdokwe:
It depends on your understanding, and I remember saying I got the best education in the post.

Yes you did but environment has its toll too

anochuko01:
kind words are medicine to the soul......I hope someone teaches our Yoruba mums this.

......but parents dey try sha

Thank you.

zonax:
Yes you did but environment has its toll too

guess I should be grateful the effect of the environment on me didn't get there.

Thanks.

mamaafrik:
OP,you were what my mum'll call "a real sobongo"(stubborn goat).

lol, I guess you gave her reasons to call you that.

mcdokwe:
guess I should be grateful the effect of the environment on me didn't get there.

Thanks.

So to speak, but we all have where we're coming from.