MY TRAVAILS AS AN AFRICAN CHILD ON MY JOURNEY OF SELF DISCOVERY

One Saturday morning, when I was ten years old. My dad and my other siblings went on a vacation and I was left at home with mom. 

To surprise my mom and to make my dad praise me for a work well done when they return, I decided to clean the house. To mop the house, I got our plastic bucket, meanwhile my mom was in her room. Put some detergent and water and going towards the living room. 

Suddenly the bucket slipped from my hand and broke. It has broken. I felt bad. I was very sad. I was disappointed because I could not fulfil my intension of making my mom say ‘’that’s my good boy", which always makes me feel motivated. 

I cleaned the water and reported to my mom about what happened. When she saw the broken bucket and the splashed water, I was still trying to explain to her how it happened, the next thing was she got a whip and gave me the beating of my life.  I cried and I was bitter within. 

Did my mom see that I was trying to be a good boy? Did my mom realise that I was doing that without anyone’s instruction? Ah! This is a woman I was trying to make happy. I went to our room and locked the door and wept. As I cried, I swore that I will leave that house and never come back.  

As I grew older, the experience of what happened never depart from my memory even in my adult age. 

This is the experience of other African children. Majority of our African parents due to impatience, transferred aggression and poverty “murder” the potentials in us. 

They whip out the problem solving potentials in their children. It will take the child weeks to think out how to construct a toy car, as the child is about to start the car construction, the father or the mother would format the child’s brain with whipping,

"is it the expensive firewood that I bought that you are cutting, have you washed all the plates in this house it's now car you want to build, car builder, do you know how much firewood costs and do expect me to cook the food you and your brothers will eat with my hair?" 

Every statement is accompanied with a whip. This inhibits the thinking ability in the child. It leaves the child with anger and bitterness as in my case. 

There is no support for us African children to be adventurous. 

The genius in us, African children is mocked. 

The innovation potential in us African children is killed when we are still trying to start. 

The environment around us is judgemental. 

Our school system is not helping matters. 

We African children are faced with many challenge hindering us from maximising our ingenuity, and yet when we try to make a step to utilise our ingenuity, we are also scolded by our parents. 

Although i might be unruly, but my parents forgot to know the difference between when i am causing problem and being innovative. 

My parents forgot to instil the act confidence in me. 

They forgot to encourage me to be brave to face any challenge. 

They forgot to nurture the ingenuity in me.

They forgot that from my mistakes, i could learn my lesson.

I wish every African parents will know the difference between correction of mistakes and killing of ingenuity! 

A dream suppressed in a child may never rise again.    

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