Nostalgia and Childhood Naivety
Its weird how for the kids of today you need hostage negotiation tactics, switching off the TV and threatening to confiscate gadgets to get them to go and play outside for a little while…
When we growing up, we played outside by choice, no parental coercion, just the unspoken rule that had to be back home before the streetlights came on, otherwise there would be consequences… We’d come home dusty, exhausted, and morally obligated to “bath.” By bath, I mean a light wipe-down so you didn’t betray yourself by messing up the sacred sofa covers. Because nothing got you disowned faster than leaving dusty imprints on the sofas.
The holes in our clothes were earned, the hard way, through play, albeit dangerously. We got bumps on the head, scrapes on knees, and all sorts of scars that we wore as badges. Limbs got broken (never mine though… there’s an internet theory that people who never broke any bones are meant to endure deep emotional, psychological pain adults instead of physical )
While I didn’t break anything, I got into a fair share of scrapes. I was convinced that the theory of flight was based on personal conviction rather than physics. I had a long red drying towel that I would wear as a cape and like Superman, try to defy gravity…Lets just say I collected loads of flight data.
Then there were these huge multi-coloured umbrellas which we would use as parachutes and jump from the top of the bunk bed, from trees and anywhere possible… One of my more adventurous friends, who broke each limb at least once, tried jumping from the roof and broke a leg…
I remember when wrestling (it was still called WWF back then) started running the caption don’t try this at home, and of course, being obedient kids, we only tried wrestling moves during school break…
Naturally, my adventurous friend broke his hand in a grappling chokehold. Later wrestling programmes caption adapted to say ”Don’t try this at home or at school” and ran a long infomercial explaining WWE superstars are trained professionals taking real risks and enduring unimaginable pain..
The thing with kids is that they are blank sponges and they absorb whatever is around them to grow into the adults they become.
I remember a game we used to play in kindergarten, where we would stand in a circle holding hands and singing as each person got to choose and describe the attributes of their sweetheart….
Sarura wako kadeya deya nendoro chena
“Sarura Wako” basically means choose yours. I never quite understood the meaning of the last part, but research suggests “ndoro chena” is either someone with a white patch of hair or someone with a white cowrie shell adorning their hair, maybe both.
Wangu Mutsvkuku
Mine is light in complexion
The most popular attribute. The kids with the lighter skin tone automatically got pretty people priviledge, they got picked first, and we all laughed, it was all fun and games, right?
Looking back now, perhaps the game was not as innocent as it seemed. This could be how we got conditioned, socialised and normalised certain preferences.
Some will argue that the fascination with fair skin complexion is in response to an inferiority complex and mental slavery, as we want to be like the white people. Centuries of oppression have ingrained in us that black is bad and white is good.
Maybe we were always that way… and shouldn’t credit imperialism with our own presumptions.
Perhaps both are true. Perhaps neither is the point.
And that’s the uncomfortable part. Because it means some of these things weren’t just taught. They were absorbed, reinforced, and played out in innocent little circles… while we held hands and sang.
....Kadeya deya nendoro chena.... 🎶
WinterABC26 Nostalgic Africa
Leave a Reply