You know, growing up as a black kid in Naija is quite a feat. You have a lot of stories to tell, experiences to learn from, some of which you savor, regret or just don’t remember because you happen to be “lost in limbo”. No thanks to Papa for beating the shit outta yo’ spirit. As a typical Naija kid, sorry, pikin you must have at one time or the other chop at least slap, cane, slippers, belt, stick, broom, tree branch, iron rod, machete…etc. with the amount of massaging we undergo in our adolescent lives, it is quite a wonder why most of us didn’t suffer from some sort of mild condition like a fractured bone, amputation, ruptured spleen, reshuffled dentition…
or brain damage. The massage here in question comes in two forms: the initial one from papa, and one that usually comes afterwards from mama using some hot water and napkins. It shouldn’t be much of a surprise to anyone when I say I think Nigerians would make great rugby players.
Limbo limbo, black black limbo…ever so dark and lonely. You peacefully float around in an unending black world without boundaries. We all encounter limbo, in a dreamless sleep, unconsciousness, coma…etc
I once mouthed off at mama, but had no idea that papa was listening from the sitting room…I paid a brief visit to limbo. The only thing I could remember was that I woke up looking like Lazarus, clad in bandages like an astronaut.
On a fateful Saturday morning, mama gave me her wrapper to wash. I then spent the next two hours jumping from sofa to couch with two edges or the wrapper knotted at my neck…superman style. Apparently, I wasn’t super enough to fly away from her when she walked into the sitting room. Everywhere went black. I recognize limbo anytime, anyday. *******then the glow of a flashlight probing my eyes woke me up and I heard the nurse ask me how I was feeling. “What happened?” I asked. “You’ve been in Coma for two days” I was told. I swore never to watch cartoons.
I paid one of my girlfriend’s a visit. She then suggested we check out her dad’s new hummer, issued to him from the army headquarters, Abuja. To cut the long story short, he caught me making out with his daughter right in the backseat. What happened next was a blur of fists, boots, elbows, head and lord knows what. I once again visited limbo. Black black limbo, ever so dark and peaceful. ***I felt the cool of two steel defibrillator plates on my bare chest as a female voice yelled “CHARGE THREE HUNDRED! CLEAR!!! All hands left my body as 300 Volts of electricity surged through me and I felt like someone who used high-tension to do jangolova.
Feel free to add whatever experiences you’ve had with limbo. 😀