To New Beginnings… (The Epistles #8)

” And they say that it is difficult to know when a writer falls in love, why, maybe it’s because we always express something to our readers.”
-Salma K. Abdulatif

Dear Nemama,

One millisecond…One second…One minute…One hour…One day. Let me start with congratulations for making it to the world. The journey has been long and there are some who were not fortunate enough to make it. How do you like in this new world? Is it what you expected? Is there anything that has fallen short of your expectations? Apologies in advance are due. For what? If your first breaths in this world you found them stale. There are these heartless humans going around destroying the environment for everyone. Hearts of stone those ones. They have no love like the one you are currently getting. You will just have to bear with us.

Telling stories is my passion. I will get right into it with introductions. In the beginning you had no first name. Actually, none of us is born with a name. Yours was a somewhat funny scenario. Your dad all he cared about beside the joy of you was that you were going to get his name and his mother’s name (one day I’ll tell you of boys and their mothers). Where was my mum? You ask. Well, she was beyond herself. She had you and nothing else mattered (I also hear there is no greater joy than that of a new mother). If you were nameless that was the least of her worries. One day it will make sense.

Luckily, all was not lost. Your aunt and I came to the rescue. We worked our magic. We ensured you got a first name that suits you. Are names that important? Depends. Some of us our names are everything. Our works are pegged to our names. Did you notice the plurals? Your aunt and I come as a package. Simply put the two of us together make one (they call us twins).

Your grandpa is one of the coolest people you will ever come across (the rest of the picture you will form for yourself when you meet). Grandma on the other hand is everything mothers are supposed to be and more. I feel that even the word love falls short when describing her. You are named after her. To put it literally in more ways than one it will be her legacy that you will be carrying on with.

It is a new age this one you have been born into. Heck! You are a new born. What is new? I don’t really know or probably it is just that someone said so. There must be something new, right? You still insist. The other day I noticed something peculiar in the house. A digital thermometer. Apparently to monitor your temperature. Back in the day the back of our mothers hands were enough. They did not need figures to know whether our body temperatures were okay.

It is also a digital age. What is that you ask? The age of the internet. Almost everyone is online these days. This piece right here is going online after it is done. Why? Word on the street is that the internet never forgets. Then there is Google. Some say the world runs on fuel, I say it runs on Google. Everything is on Google these days. I mean everything. Today, you could raise yourself using it. There is also social media. Another realm altogether. Forget how right now everyone wants to hold you in their arms. That kind of thing does not cut it when you consider social media. On Facebook and Twitter and, the likes it is all about likes and followers. Some have called it the devil’s handiwork. To others it is the next best thing after the invention of the wheel (One man’s meat, another man’s poison).

Allow me to iron out some issues. One day you will have questions. Some will have ready answers. Others. Where did I come from? You will ask. Watch out for the irony. It will be all about imagery. The nice ones will tell you kids are bought from a supermarket. This big shop with kids lining the shelves all crying their hearts out to get noticed. The mean ones will tell you of pet shops. Little kids in glass cages all distraught waiting for their day. It is not like we want to lie to you. We just cannot fathom how your young minds will take truth. Allow me to elaborate. Growing up you will notice your mother use a knife in the kitchen. You will know it only as cutlery used in the preparation of meals. Now imagine the horror when you learn that the same knife can also be used as a murder weapon. Some necessary evils I tell.

Stories. There will be those of foxes and hyenas, and ogres. They devour whole communities. Tear people from limb to limb. Make broth out of others. You will marvel at this stories. Then you will grow up and learn that they were presentations of real people. Heartless souls. We are in dire need of saviours. The ones we have right now are just wolves in sheep’s clothing. They only want to get their turn to eat. Right now, we will even do with a hero.

In conclusion, I will tell you of your late aunt. A dime piece she would have grown up to be. She had one dimple on her left cheek. The two of you would have been great friends. Pardon the presumption.

May you grow up and actually and truly live.

Regards,
Teiya Oloilole.   

Teiya Oloilole

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