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Eketi @eketiette
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In spite of that perfect home training, your children will occasionally embarrass you.

If you're a parent and this has happened to you, say Aye.

How do I know this? Because I was once that child. I think I was about six years old. Not so sure.

It's a thread, needle....
It was in the early 90s, when the fear of poison and witchcraft was making the rounds. So, taking things from strangers was forbidden.

My mother distilled, instilled and occasionally enforced that lesson in us: 'Thou shalt not collect things from people without our permission.'
In fact, the lesson was so well-learned that one day, my parents were summoned to school.

Apparently, my sister had refused to share her biscuits with a classmate. When asked why, she'd replied,

"She has not asked her Mummy's permission. I don't want to give her witchcraft."
That incident was smoothened out and all was well in our lives again.

Until one day. Somebody say, 'One day.'

That day, a visitor, one of my mother's friends. came to pay her a visit. As a good hostess, Mama served her chinchin, groundnuts and a 35cl bottle of Fanta.
Usually, whenever Mama had a visitor, we made ourselves scarce - because, grown up talk and all. I remember one day, my sister refused to leave the parlour.

Instead, she contributed to the conversation. What Mama did to her that day not the story I'm sharing today.
Where was I?

Ah, yes. Making ourselves scarce. I didn't leave the living room that day. Rather, I sidled up to Mama and leaned on her. I wasn't concerned with the lady, chinchin or peanuts.

My eyes, attention, soul and destiny, were fixed on that 35cl bottle of Fanta.
Back then Fanta was my absolute favourite fizzy drink. So, it wasn't that I'd never drunk Fanta before. On the contrary, our fridge, freezer and store had loads of it. I could literally drink some any time I wanted.
But you see, at that very moment my spirit like the Serpent to Eve, told me that the visitor's own would be very sweet, sweeter than the other ordinary bottles of Fanta in the fridge.

It didn't take long for the woman to notice my greedy ogling.
She drank until there was about two inches of that orange nectar left in the bottle.

"Sweetie, come and take," she said.

I looked at my mother. She gave me the third variation of The Look.
Let me pause a bit here and tell you a little about The Look and its third variation.
My mother was the Mistress of The Look - that precise, ocular glare that cut sharp like a laser beam and was unmistakable in its intended message.

The Look had variations; sometimes it meant 'disappear from here.' It could also mean 'come here at once!'
Then there was that third variation which said, 'If I catch you, you're dead.'

It was this one that Mama pinned on me when that lady offered me the dregs of her Fanta.

"Collect it and die," said her eyes.
Permit me at this juncture, to do a little flashback.

Earlier that morning, my Village People held a town hall meeting. At the meeting, they printed and distributed 5x7 copies of my picture to everyone, to use as a hand fan.
"Fan yourselves hard," said the Chairman of my Village People Union. "This girl must fall hand today. She must be the architect of her own destruction."

They fanned. And it came to pass, that as they were fanning themselves, the breeze was blowing my eyes, ears and sixth sense.
I became blind and deaf to danger.

That's why later that afternoon, despite my Mama's vigorous and very robust home training, I couldn't see The Look.

Instead, I stepped forward, collected the nearly empty bottle of Fanta, put it to my mouth, and drank until it was empty.
My mother stared at me like:
Me I was busy drinking like:
Finished, I went back to my bedroom.
The visitor finally left. Then my mother opened the door to the room, walked in, and locked it behind her.

My people....
I died.

The person you see here today is my reincarnation. I'm not even joking.😭😭😭
As for that auntie....wicked woman! If as a child I missed The Look, why didn't she see it and save me, enh?!

Pamela whyyyyyy?

As for Fanta....thunder fire Fanta! Coca Cola whyyyyyy?
That was the last time I ever took stuff from anyone as a child. It was so bad that even when Mama or Papa gave me the go ahead to collect, I'd say,

"Thank you auntie/uncle. I don't want."

It's not me you people will kill twice in one lifetime.
At least my case was better than that of Vicky, my friend. That one, she pushed the celebrant out of the way at a birthday party, as she was about to cut the cake, and used her fingers to pinch a chunk of it and eat.

Vicky's Mum used her to practice How to Beat a Talking Drum.
So, here ends my story.

I hope I've been able to convince and not confuse you, dear panel of judges, co-debaters, and the audience, that no matter how good you are, your children will occasionally cross the line and make you look bad.
What to do on those occasions:

1. Don't harshly judge your parenting. You're doing fine.

2. Try not to kill them. Trust me, it's not easy. Ask my mother. You may wish the ground to swallow you. A much safer and legal alternative.

3. Give them a talk to reinforce the lesson.
Let me wrap this up by reminding you that it's important to invest. Seriously, no matter how little, start today.

You can use's easy investment app. So that you can hammer - and there's a lesser chance of you coming to borrow money from me tomorrow 😛😛🤣
The End.

I hope you enjoyed the story. You can show your appreciation and tune in for more by laughing, liking the thread and following that easy order.

Have an amazing day.
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