Welcome: My First Memory as a Child

Welcome

I’ll admit it. This is my first blog. Cue jazz hands and congratulatory music.

I’ll admit it. When I signed on to create my blog, I did not anticipate the feeling of you, the reader breathing down my neck as I sat at my laptop to write my first blog post.

I am curious though. How did you find yourself here? Were you lured by my colourful posting on social media (am I overestimating my influence?) or did a friend (bless their heart) nudge you to this site. Or maybe the explanation is much simpler: Curiosity, that sneaky old woman!

Whatever the case may be, I’m glad you are here. Welcome!

My name is Olubunmi Oladipo and I started this blog majorly because I like books and I enjoy discussing them with other people. It is a personal blog and it will be run on the conversational lines of reading, writing, thinking and believing.

So we’ll start on neutral ground today. I’ll start by telling you the first memory I have of myself as a child. Maybe it will inspire you to share yours too.

How do you live your life constantly having to remember to breathe? I spent the next couple of seconds breathing deliberately. IN. OUT. IN. OUT.

It was a sunny afternoon and my family still lived in this nice red brick house in Abule-Egba, Lagos, Nigeria. My siblings were playing this “change your style” game. Do you remember it? It goes something like:

“Mummy in the kitchen cooking rice

Daddy in the parlor watching film

Children in the garden

Playing ball

A goal!”

And I remember that one of my sisters had this brilliant trick to get you to move. She would try to startle you, suddenly yell “hey, what’s that? Or grab a knife and come close to you. You would inevitably change your position and she would burst into laughter, victorious.

But on this sunny afternoon, I wasn’t playing with them. Instead, I sat in the shade of a verandah thinking interesting childlike thoughts.

I remember thinking that being a human being is such a hard job. You were saddled with three responsibilities:

1. You had to remember to swallow your spit. I thought that it was a chore to, but if you didn’t, all the spittle would gather up in your mouth until you choked on it.

2. You had to remember to breathe. This was the most worrying to me. How do you live your life constantly having to remember to breathe? I spent the next couple of seconds breathing deliberately. IN. OUT. IN. OUT. Then, a thought occurred to me – what happens when you sleep?Does my body automatically remember to do it for me? Or have I been blissfully going to bed every night unaware that my body was running the danger of forgetting to breathe?

3. I always forget the last one.

Whenever this memory comes to mind, I’m always amused by the urgency of my thoughts as a child. I read recently that what you remember of your childhood often reveals what you consider important to you. (Read here)

Needless to say, these thoughts were only a passing worry. I soon joined my siblings in the game and totally forgot the “important tasks” of swallowing my spit and remembering to breathe.

What’s your first memory as a child and what do you think it says about you?

#chilldhood #nostalgia #memories