Archive for July, 2013

There’s a photograph

In my father’s house, there’s a photograph.

The greatest days, the fondest moments, away from the loud glamour of metropolitan living to the serenity of bright milk gold sunshine, some place where you will but bend your knees and whisper a sincere line to your maker “Thank you for silence.” Happiness they say is a journey and this place embodies the biggest journey of my life; one I’ve revelled and enjoyed every step of the way. A journey where my many appendages became apparent, for everyone here had held my hands as I walk through life. It is a place where the night falls quietly, so as not to upset the twilight nor disturb the constant state of peace. It’s the place I call home.

A few words may suffice to describe the transcendental, impartial, selfless, positive home I grew up in. Everybody gave me their time, showered me with their love all of every day. Lights shine though their hearts into my spaces. I was given the best, I was taught to fly and was raised up high, and then I flew like a butterfly. I’ve heard of titans and giants, I have them in my household. In my home, there is happiness, roars of unrepentant laughter tearing up the atmosphere relentlessly refusing to set with the sun, the joy isn’t time bound, and every moment is savoured.

As my life unfolds, I grew up knowing they would protect me and I would protect them. Now I realise why grandchildren are often spoilt, because when the parents were growing, the parents were working. Now they aren’t working anymore, the grandchildren get the pampering. I’m not jealous, not entirely. I was given life by them. I appreciate my family and I will have an awesome family too. I grew up knowing people I can stand to side by side in war.

The sunshine here is brighter, the leaves are greener, the food is tastier, the air is fresher, the water is purer, NEPA is sane, the environment is quiet, and the memories are sharper, everything about this place tells me about the peace and quiet we can only dream of in the big city; that is if we dream at all. Why are we in Lagos?

In my father’s house, there’s a photograph; of a family to which I’m proud to belong.

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