Days of Old
Kids today have no imagination. I know this is a massive generalisation but as a close observer of loads of young uns, I can say that there is definite basis for that conclusion. Three summers ago, while I was babysitting my cousin he kept coming over to me telling me how bored he was. This boredom appeared to stem from the fact that his mother banned him from watching TV and playing computer games all day. Shock!! Horror!! What else is there to life? Imagine the look of shock on his face when I dared to suggest that he go outside and play! He actually informed me that he didn't really know what to do, so I told him to use his imagination.
This had him stumped. He had no idea what I was carrying on about, so I told him to make up a story. He got about halfway through the story when I realised that it just happened to be exactly the same as the Power Rangers movie I had been forced to suffer through the previous day. I threw up my hands in exasperation.
This is just so alien to me, because some of the most significant moments of my childhood were brought to me courtesy of my imaginary friends, and my wild flights of fancy. When I was five years old, I had my first major argument with most of my extended family. This was an argument that carried on until I was about nine and saw the light. It all started on afternoon in London, I was watching TV on my own for some reason. I don't really remember where everyone else was, but I watched on my own for quite a while. Eventually, my Uncle Ladi came out into the living room and asked me what I had been watching. I told him that I was watching a show about an old man who had a parrot named 'Kpookpaa'. He doubled over laughing at me and called all my aunts in to join in on the joke. My aunts and uncle patiently tried to explain to me why it was impossible that I saw a British show featuring a parrot with such a blatantly Nigerian name, but I wasn't having any of it. It was the source of much teasing and many tears until I turned nine and realised how ridiculous I must have sounded! It actually became a nickname for me that the family would use whenever I came out with some particularly fanciful tall tale, or just did something plain weird.
My Uncle still calls me Kpookpaa till this day, and in December when I went to Nigeria I noticed that he has started calling his 4-year old daughter 'Kpookpaa junior'. This is apparently due to the fact that she chatters on for hours on end and comes out with plenty of smart alec comments, just like me! The legendary imaginary parrot has become part of our family legacy and I'm proud of that.
Kpookpaa and all the other wonderful imaginary friends of my youth, I salute you. Thank you for many days and nights filled with joy and wonder. Thank you for allowing me to dare to dream. Thank you for keeping me company...But most of all thank you for teaching me about the power of imagination.
This had him stumped. He had no idea what I was carrying on about, so I told him to make up a story. He got about halfway through the story when I realised that it just happened to be exactly the same as the Power Rangers movie I had been forced to suffer through the previous day. I threw up my hands in exasperation.
This is just so alien to me, because some of the most significant moments of my childhood were brought to me courtesy of my imaginary friends, and my wild flights of fancy. When I was five years old, I had my first major argument with most of my extended family. This was an argument that carried on until I was about nine and saw the light. It all started on afternoon in London, I was watching TV on my own for some reason. I don't really remember where everyone else was, but I watched on my own for quite a while. Eventually, my Uncle Ladi came out into the living room and asked me what I had been watching. I told him that I was watching a show about an old man who had a parrot named 'Kpookpaa'. He doubled over laughing at me and called all my aunts in to join in on the joke. My aunts and uncle patiently tried to explain to me why it was impossible that I saw a British show featuring a parrot with such a blatantly Nigerian name, but I wasn't having any of it. It was the source of much teasing and many tears until I turned nine and realised how ridiculous I must have sounded! It actually became a nickname for me that the family would use whenever I came out with some particularly fanciful tall tale, or just did something plain weird.
My Uncle still calls me Kpookpaa till this day, and in December when I went to Nigeria I noticed that he has started calling his 4-year old daughter 'Kpookpaa junior'. This is apparently due to the fact that she chatters on for hours on end and comes out with plenty of smart alec comments, just like me! The legendary imaginary parrot has become part of our family legacy and I'm proud of that.
Kpookpaa and all the other wonderful imaginary friends of my youth, I salute you. Thank you for many days and nights filled with joy and wonder. Thank you for allowing me to dare to dream. Thank you for keeping me company...But most of all thank you for teaching me about the power of imagination.
posted by Monef at 5:48 PM
1 Comments:
yo kpookpaa...werin dey? LMAO. see you around....kpookpaa ROTFL
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