The Danger Lurking Within.

As we sat with the adults watching a movie, I wondered what this was all about.  I did not understand what the movie was all about nor did my friend. We sat silently, glued to the scenes parading in front of us on our black and white TV trying our best not to disturb anyone. The scene was interesting in a very strange way. It was also scary.

The following day, my 5-year-old friend came to me with a blunt knife asking me to replay the scene we both saw on TV. I did not know where she got the knife from, but, excitedly I collected the knife off her. I was about the age of six.

We had the mental image of the main character with a knife in his hand, running around chasing his victims. In our heads, we could only remember a scene. A gruesome scene. (more…)

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How to Raise a Non-Materialistic Child in a Materialistic World.

My mother got me a doll when I was about 6. The doll was made out of plastic and had a little bath and shower. It had a little wire for water to pass through.  It was an amazing little gift and a little possession of mine. My doll had a miniature world with everything it needed. I cannot remember what happened to my doll, I had it for a while and it just disappeared. I cannot remember having any industrially manufactured toy after my little doll disappeared.

As I grew, I made do with whatever I could find around. Dressing up games were achieved using old clothes. Most of the play I engaged in were centred around role playing. I found solace in using old cassette as building blocks,  empty milk tins and cans with a thin thread were used as a transmitter for communication. With a little help from my peers and sometimes from my siblings, I learnt to make kites from newspaper and strands of brooms. Hide and seek was one of the favourites and I was great at it.

 

We sang and danced and made up songs for many occasions. We picked fruits and tried new tastes. We wandered around a lot under the guardian of an older child. I experimented with gardening and harvesting. Tree climbing was a game I was I disliked for I was not good at climbing and I got mocked by many of my friends. We did up-scotch under the hot sun. We learnt to make parachutes out of polyethene bags and tested their durability on windy days. Dark clouds were great signs for me, there was nothing relaxing than a cold shower of heavy pouring rain. We drew on the ground and had competitions on hopscotch games. The boys had their games and so were the girls. Most of which generated out of pure curiosity. (more…)

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How not to argue with your child .

 

My rebellion against my parents did not start until I was in my late teenage years. I was a little darling and any form of anger was well managed within myself. There was no room to backchat, the house rules did not give room for that. However, I could rebel against any order passed down by my older siblings easily.

Arguing with my mother was easy as soon as I gained admission into the university, I suddenly turned to a pro who seemed to know all. My father had the upper arm and I never had the chance with him. He was too fierce and from experience, I could not even dear. The fear of going against anything my father said was huge and I was never ready to risk anything anyway. I lost my father before I could summon up the courage.

Managing my anger was something I learnt as a child since I was not allowed to vent it in any way. I bottled it all up and because I bottled up for so long, I lashed out in the wrong ways. I found solace in keeping to myself. I tried solving my problems myself and ended up creating more problems, I was quick to hide in my shell if things don’t go my way and I hurt in silence without sharing my pains. This has a huge impact in my adult life. (more…)

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