Childhood memories. Sunshine. Laughter. I don’t remember all we did or said, but the feeling remains fresh in my heart.

Childhood memories. Praise and I would check the balcony to trace the muffled voices from downstairs. We would play the old ball with Ayanfe or Folake’s brother not because we wanted to be the next Messi or Ronaldo or Neymar but the fun. Many times, the ball flew to the next house. We would then laugh, pick it up, and continue playing.

Childhood memories. Maybe I would run with that cute girl whose name I do not remember or anyone who wanted to run. We’d challenge ourselves so often that I can’t even remember who was always winning. We’d race so much until we could not help panting and our dresses would be soaked in sweat. That never mattered; it was fun we wanted.

Childhood memories. We would talk until dusk fell. What we said, my brain does not remember. But I’m sure adults around were jealous of our bond, and our hearty laughter. We had no worries then, even if we had, they never had deep roots in our hearts.

Childhood memories. The days of Hide and Seek, Catcher, Police and Thief. We would play and play, explore everything around until the adults were annoyed. We rolled car tyres under shadowy clouds, flew kites in the beauty of noon and tickled ourselves until we almost died of laughter while the evening breeze whipped the edges of our dresses.

Childhood memories. We played until the adults got worried or annoyed. Nothing stopped us from being our true selves except them. They’d shout “Don’t go there!” or “Come back here, shut up and sit down!”

And that was how we were chained, how we gradually lost our freedom. Later on, as the years flew, it became a talk of maturity and wisdom.

Now, maturity has reached its peak but the freedom and sprightliness of childhood cannot be regained. We can no more play all day; we now have more burdens and work. Our lives have also drifted apart since the wheels of change never slow down; we cannot live in one compound forever.

Nonetheless, I wish these childhood memories were a present reality, but they definitely cannot. They remain lovely memories: realities of the past.

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1 Comment

desree · July 13, 2018 at 12:38 pm

awwwwwwwwww…..this is so cute and touching. I should probably write on my childhood memories too

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