Dr Freaks Journal - Childhood Memories.

"Everything is different when you're a child: the trees are higher, the colours are brighter, and every new day is more interesting that the last. Even more importantly, some things happen that stay in our memory for a long time - in fact, sometimes they end up being with us forever." -Anonymous

Life is indeed short! Few days back, I received a telephone call from an old friend whom I hadn't seen in over 31 long years since we both left "The School" and just like two "teenagers that we were then", once again, we conjured up our past, our mutual past and relished in our shared memories for the greater part of the duration of that memorable conversation and we both felt "very young" once again! 

Come to think of it, are we even old? Age is nothing but numbers!


After that critical call, I paused, cast my mind back to my last memorable birthday, and my mind raced back to my 8th. It was memorable for me because my late Sister and my Brothers arranged a party for me and invited a friend of theirs who led us in a "funny" prayer session in the most accented voice I had ever encountered before that date and it seemed like yesterday!

 That gave me a preview into the ephemeral, and yet ethereal sides of life.


The soul game continued until I landed in my father's poultry farm.


Dad had a poultry farm, a side hustle which crystallized into a mainstay. The farm comprised some pen houses for poultry: layers; growers; broilers; cockerels, chicks, etc and we were the direct employees. What this meant was that we needed to wake up as early as 6.00am to clean the troughs and feeders and serve them feed and water before even preparing for school and we also had to rush back home after school hours to serve them "lunch". It was fun! 

We carried on with joy, after all, that was the only lifestyle we knew.

What this period meant in our household was constant availability of eggs and meat. From January to December, chicken and eggs were guaranteed on our table and that explains why I hardly consume chicken these days. I just started eating eggs recently. "I chop chicken so tay chicken begin run for me*." 


There was a tradition in the house, every Saturday morning, we would all wake up as early as 6.00am and proceed to the pen houses to pack the droppings of the poultry in all the pen houses. Was it fun? Why not! We got used to the smell and the role in no time.

 We would clear all the droppings before 9.00am, after which we would commence the exercise leading to the meat of this write-up.


My Brother X, the one who raised the "Second Batch" of children in the house was the "Commandant" of our "Mechanized Division". It was customary in the household to embark on hunting sessions after the Saturday morning chores. The chief cause of everyone's headache was never the cleaning exercise, far from it!

 The major fear was the hunting session. Every Saturday morning, the task ahead of all the males in the house was to "massacre" at least 20 each out the rats and lizards that were hibernating around the pen houses. Cheating was unthinkable as we were all mandated to line our spoils of war up on the floor after each hunting expedition. The hunting strategy was that two persons would be paired up, one would chase the rats that mostly resided in-between the planks on which the roofs rested from one end to the other, outside. The moment the hapless rat dropped on the floor, the person at the outer end had the bounden duty/responsibility of hitting the head and sniffing life out of it at once and in a situation where multi rats fell within the confines of your jurisdiction, you must kill all of them without missing any, or else you will be dealt with summarily.

 The rules were stringent and compliance was even more strict. There was no room for mistakes as the Commander was forever ready to deal with erring hunters/soldiers ruthlessly! 

For us, the experience was garnished with mixed feelings. It was labourious though, but at the same time, so much fun. We bonded more. We looked forward to those memorable moments. Looking back now, given the same opportunity today, I dont think i would do anything differently.


Later in life, I began to cherish those golden moments. Zero tolerance to avoidable hitches and flaws; near accuracy and precision became core values for most of us. Up till this moment, I still function as if one Commander is watching and that same is ready to spank me at the slightest commission of a mistake. On a serious note, I still find it difficult to delegate roles to persons who seemingly do not share a similar upbringing with me. I know that I have to work on this aspect because not everyone had the kind of "military" upbringing which some of us received.


Long, may we all live in good health and sound mind. Life is short, savour every moment of it.


  Its Kunle