Sunday, 8 November 2015

CHRONICLES OF TSLOW~ CHAPTER 1.


Frankly speaking or better yet, frankly writing I am at a loss as to what, or how to go about this seemingly ridiculous project of mine. Can I even call this a project? It’s more or less a journal of my days from way before and how much I have evolved as an individual from then till now. Ok, ok no time to bore you folks with all that, “aint nobody got time for that!”.  So let’s get straight to it.



I’ve had a rather uncommon past, there's nothing really spectacular as to how and when I was brought up but in a sense I feel you guys have to be drawn into where I came from so as to get a feel of the kind of mentality I built for myself all through the years.

Hmmm , by now I guess its pertinent for me to have you all know that I was born as a twin. Not identical,  but fraternal (I wonder why they call it that, fraternal?), got a beautiful twin sis and an elder brother, whose story I will come to later on.

We were all born in the great city of kano in Nigeria. Ahh, kano was the bomb in those days and when I say bomb, I mean bomb in a good way. I am talking of the good old days of the early to mid-1980’s. Then kano was a place to be in Nigeria, you weren’t a complete Nigerian if you had never paid a visit to kano. Oh well, I cant tell for now about the kano of today but back then it was a sort of jewel in the sahara.

By now I can see you guys are starting to get the picture, right? If you haven’t then you need to go get yourself a glass of water and come back to reading this piece. Anyway lets get back to it, my mum is from the south-south region of Nigeria, Edo state to be precise and dad is Yoruba from ondo state yet I never knew my mum was edo until like when I was in my early teens, awkward yeah? Well that’s not my fault because my mum barely spoke her language with us, basically we were brought up in the English language and then once in a while we got spoken to in the Yoruba language, then our immediate environment inculcated the hausa language into us.

Unfortunately for me, I am more proficient in English and hausa language than my Yoruba language. You are sad for me shey? No, don’t be because later on in life I had to learn the Yoruba language by force but till date you will be able to tell that this dude is an outcast. That’s why I’m happy I wasn’t given a foreign name, at least my tribal name is good enough to let people know I’m a proud son of oduduwa.

While growing up, we had a lot of relatives around with us, you all know how it is with typical African families, don’t you? Where you have uncles and aunties living under the same roof with your parents all because there is this prevalent pattern in most African families whereby the children are not the sole responsibility of the parents alone to handle..lol.. that’s just the way it was. And so it was we had a full house then, which ultimately had a great influence on me.

Here I was caught in between the erratic switch in behaviors as regards the masochistic lessons I got from my uncles and the subtle feminism of my aunts, at the end of the day it all led up to most people believing I was a little too soft a guy who didn't do things the way most guys would. And that has come to affect people's perception of me over the years, i guess that's one of the things i have got to live with, abi? ...lol.. Until next time, you all have a great week ahead. #KTT


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