THE METAMORPHIC BY Emeywyte

It was a Saturday morning, on the first day of April. As I sat in front of our balcony, just viewing the scenery like a spectator involved in a sporting event.
Birds were playing hide and seek and chirping as they flew from one point to another. As though it was the last fun of their existence.

The frozen condensed air of the calm cold morning chokes. It encompasses me , voluntarily paving way into my nostril like the aroma that emanates from a well prepared pot of boiled stew and jollof rice being garnished with fried chicken, which fills the air during the eve to Christmas celebration.

Every first April brings this sweet memories of my past and fills me with optimism that someday day situations would be more better.

Holding my jaw and brooding over the past, I could still flash back, to perceiving the picture of those good old times. Which reflects back to me like the mirror that assures one of its services, while reviewing one’s appearance.

Those days when during holidays we use to chant song like;
“Holiday is coming, no more teacher teach, no more ringing bell, good bye teachers good bye scholars, I am going to school.” Those days when after returning from school, we would keep a wait on NTA 2 CHANNEL 5 station which normally opens by 12noon with rainbow colors displaying on television screen,While chants of Nigerian national anthem commenced before any program could be shown .
Our wooden black and white television taking it position was firmly housed in the wooden shelf. it has a round button which making “ko, ko.” Sound when tuned to view other stations. With a padlock point which our parent uses to lock it in case they do not want us to temper with it in their absence.

To a great extent the lock on the wooden television has helped our parent to control what we viewed. Then television was a rare commodity. It was possessed by those who are financially buoyant.
Our external area was made of bamboo stick and florescent tube at our backyard to give a clearer picture.

Then we had Educative and intellectual television programs like “SPEAKOUT, TALE BY MOONLIGHT, VOLTRON, POWER RANGERS, TELEMATCH to mention but a few.

Indomie & Milo Companies do organize quiz and debate competitions for children from different schools to showcase their intelligence and scholarships were given.
Parents were happy and takes pride in their children/ward most especially when they see them on TV. “That is my boy.” A cheering statement they made. I remember when my brother Nathaniel also represented Enugu state during the Mariam Abacha Scholarship Scheme, It was a beautiful experience and competitive at such.

We had interesting plays like;
Suwe , skipping rope; girls playing “Ten Ten,”
We Created boats when it rained,

We Made cars and helicopter with tin of milks and created tyres from the Dunlop of bathroom slippers.

We made kites to support it with our mummy’s hair tread and watched it in amazement as it soars higher into the sky. Giving us that sense of accomplishment, which fills our boyish inclination as kid.

We Listened to tales from elders when it was full moon.

Those days when kids where taught poems in school which they still remember chanting even in adulthood. We were well-schooled to pass our exams without any miracle center or external support.
We were cultured to Respect our elders ( respect was reciprocal). Then people see their neighbors as their own biological brothers. There was unity and administration to carryout task and to achieve common goals.

Wow! How beautiful all these were. No tribalism, no religious sentiments, things were shared equally and people genuinely merited the positions they occupied.

People gathered on weekend evenings after the day’s activities to discuss over some plates of hot pepper soup and some glasses of palm wine and shots of kai kai while listening to songs like “one love from onyeka Uwenu, time na money” by Mike okri….
It was all in reality.

An era where people were afraid to hurt a fly not to talk of hurting their neighbors or taking their lives.
There was this innocence, that that people were characterized by. They were ignorant of explosive and it’s usage to destroy lives and property. Those days when people do visit the national theatre to watch actors perform live on stage. Our media do premier films like “ things fall apart by Chinua Achebe and other literary work of art that entertains and morally appeals to consciences. Pictures that could corrupt the minds were not televised on air while we were still growing up as kid. Infact it would have been an abominable act if such had occurred.

Life was worth living with little or no hardship.
How I wish all these beautiful experiences would still journey back to take its stand in this present state of Nigeria,even for a seconds. All these swept through my mind. As I was found smiling unconsciously.

A noise erupts, disconnecting me from my day dreaming and jerks me up to reality like one who was revived from unconsciousness. It was Mr Bidemi and his son. Segun had threatened to pull a trigger at his parent .

THE END
Yours sincerely: Emey wyte