Friday, 4 April 2014

Why Traffic lights mean more to me


Who remembers this game we played as kids (by “we” I mean, born in the 80’s and most likely played with friends on  the then safe streets of Lagos Nigeria) where we stand on a straight line and someone who is in charge shouts “Red light” “Yellow Light” and “Green light” in no particular order. The idea is to confuse the participants because you never know what the person calling the colors would say, you have to be alert; if you move when he or she shouts “red light” (which can come just after a “red light”) then you are disqualified (I have a feeling my explanation doesn’t help much), anyway moving on……..

* And if you were not born in the 80’s or didn’t live in Lagos and you still played this game, then forgive me it was a random guess for I don’t know the statistics or history of games we played as kids*

One beautiful evening, I was playing this game just outside my house with some of my friends and for some strange reason my mum (who had seen us through the kitchen window) firmly told me to stop. As a rebellious child who was bent on winning this game, I ignored (I forgot to add that besides staying alert for this game, anytime “green light” was yelled, you had to run really fast so you could be the first to reach some form of make shift finish line, that way you win the game). She must have shouted from the house like twice but how could I hear? At that moment all I lived for was to hear “Green light” and take off like the wind on to the finish line; I heard the “Green light” I had been expecting and off I went and for a few unforgettable seconds I noticed I was leading, I realized that “today I will be the winner of this game and I will win the bragging rights”, achievement of life!!!

Alas, the girl who called the shots decided to cut short my moments of joy and shout “Red light” which meant I had to stop and suffer the possibility of someone else running ahead of me to win the game when the next “Green light” was called. However, I didn’t see what was to come; as a chubby child, anytime I was required to run I literally put my ALL into the race, whether there was a prize waiting at the end, it just made me feel good that maybe I didn’t look like a fat rolling pin set in motion down the street but rather a strong fit athletic child. And because of the amount of force I put into it, stopping abruptly could not happen so on this day, as I tried to stop at the girl’s command, I fell……no let me say that again…..I collapsed, in the most unglamorous fashion and as if that wasn’t enough, I hit the floor and literally skied a short distance (apparently I was still in motion even on the floor) and ended just under my neighbour’s gate.

It was like a car accident….all that noise; things shattering followed by a deafening silence then the sound of people getting over the shock and their voices when they finally find it! I don’t remember if I stayed on the floor or jumped up immediately however the pain was real and so was the shame I knew I had to endure as I gathered the courage to walk into my house. My mother had clearly heard the accident (even people miles away would have heard it too), so I limped and stood by the door because I was afraid to enter the house in case my mother decides that since the crash didn’t kill me, I should be finished off for being disobedient!

My mother finally yelled at me to enter the house, I didn’t even dare to make a sound as I cried when she gave me the 'evil eye' while cleaning my wounds and scratches that ran up to my knees and tights with mentholated spirit or disinfectant, not sure.  I don’t even remember what happened to my friends (I’m sure they got the message and disappeared) however that was one painful experience I endured for doubting my mother’s psychic powers……that wasn’t the first time I was playing that game so why did she choose that day to declare it a bad idea? I guess she saw the accident coming and my little mind didn’t. Since that ordeal till now, I’ve also learnt the hard way that there are dire consequences for disobeying your mother (I’m just grateful none of them killed me because I can be stubborn); she always seems to just know when a new friend is evil, when you shouldn’t go on that trip, go to that party, eat or drink that thing or even when holding an extra set of clothes is necessary!

They can be annoying but now I know beyond a doubt that it’s from a place of genuine love!! So to the psychic, super hero mothers; those gone to heaven, those doing it alone and those who have help along the way……you ROCK!! And even though we fight or disobey, we love you and secretly admire your powers and actually hope to possess them so we can use on our kids!!

Happy (belated) Mother’s day



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2 comments:

  1. Aww!!! So funny but very true. A mother's intuition is hardly ever wrong. Happy Mothers Day.

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  2. Such a sweet story. .mothers will always have that instinct over thier children no matter how old

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