I want to thank my Father, my Mother and my Parents.

That year sha! My father can flog the devil out of you with his belts and koboko. He expresses his displeasure towards your “mumurity” today and forgets the whole thing the next day. A nice and hardworking man who, despite all obstacles that life threw his way, made sure my siblings and I had University education.

My mother! She won’t talk to you whenever you misbehave. No ooo! She will let you run around, dodge the whole day and fall back into the net.
You know! That guilty conscience hide and seek games! She was never tired of watching you play it out. She will give you food once you are back in the evening. You will go to sleep and feel like all have been taken care of, that you have technically maneuvered the whole thing only for her to wake you up in the middle of the night and treat your fuck ups.

If my Mother flogs you, you will know that Papa is the best friend you can have in this life.

We actually nicknamed her “behave well”, My younger brother and I . We were terror that the house couldn’t deal with. I miss those days with concentrated nostalgia.

Those days, I will hang out with my younger brother looking for things to spoil in the house, that is after multiple fight between us. His other hubby was challenging my authority. He never believed that he should be loyal same way that I refused to be to my older siblings.

When my mother comes back, my younger brother will shout “behave well”. That word alone will induce instant sleep in you and we snored away our sorrows in pretense.

I remember the day she caught me with other boys playing with cigarette. In her characteristic manner, she didn’t say a word. Not even my father was told.

After dinner and prayers, I went to the room I shared with my brothers and wore 3 jean shorts, then covered them with a thick Jean trouser. I spent the whole night awake, not wanting to be taken unawares.

She came with her cane around 12 am. Nothing was too small to be overlooked. Not even a sneer on your seniors. Discipline was always physical and it helped to curtail the madness of ghettohood.

Once the cane landed on my buttocks, the sound it made was so strange to her. It was not the sound she was used to. Then she burst into wide raging laughter and inspected the crime scene with the fine eyes of a perturbed physician.

She told me to remove the whole thing. I was flogged that night bare skin for cheating.

Ohh! the day we got high; my younger brother and I. He was my partner in crime and and a competitor too. We drank PASTIS, that drink that changes color when diluted with water.
We had gotten high and left the drink open on the table, then went to sleep. When I woke up, my mother was already back and was taking care of the mess.

I greeted her, she answered, then said with a ghostly smile ” I can see two of you have been enjoying yourselves”. I didn’t want to be told what will happen at night. So I ran to my aunt’s house.
After confessing my sins, She volunteered to take me back home, promising me that she will make sure I won’t be flogged. I agreed but only temporarily.

I know the house more than she does or won’t she go to her house that night to cook for her family?

I disengaged my hand from hers and ran towards another direction, to my friend’s house who shares the same name with me, despite her calling me back and her assurances.

Who wan die?

Those flogging saved me sha, I must tell you. Because there are things that when I want to do them, my mind races to my mother’s thick cane and my father’s belts. Although, I won’t whip my kids, I consider mine an integral part of growing up in the 20th century Nigeria.

Last year in Jos, with Yakubu, Obi, Salisu and Co, the cold became unbearable. I have had my boots on for 3 days.

I removed them only when I wanted to take my bath. I actually slept with them cause we were in a tent.

Obi had his cigarettes and was not on the same level of suffering with the rest of the boys. He was actually laughing at us. Then Yakubu Gyiang took a stick of cigarette from him, then Salisu, then the other boy from Kano – I have forgotten his name – all in a bid to keep warm.

“Behave well” raced to my mind with the speed of light. “I won’t” I muttered while my lips danced like a flame disturbed by the wind. “Don’t die here” they said! “I won’t” I replied again!

They probably didn’t live under the dictates of “behave well”.
You don’t repeat a bad behavior again after she had dealt with you. Till date, I still fear my mother’s cane