It was 11am on a Monday morning, a time when most university students will be at one lecture theater or the other but just like the special student your friend, Shola usually called you that was not the norm for you. You often spent mornings like these in your sister's house on the other side of town working to meet up with one article deadline or the other.
This morning was not different, you were sitting on the worn-out plastic chair in the corner of the room you called yours, with your laptop opened to the Google docs application that held an unfinished blog post but you were mindlessly scrolling through your phone.
Scrolling through tiktok was your way of avoiding the work you know you had to do.
Two hours had passed since you picked up your phone 'to check the time', but I'm sure you didn't notice because you were engrossed in tummy rolling laughter as you watched grown men wearing bonnets make a fool of themselves.
Just in the middle of your laughter, as if struck by a mother's instinct, you realized you were supposed to be watching your three-year-old niece, Reni. The house had been eerily quiet for too long. Everyone knows that a quiet child who is not asleep usually means trouble.
Frantically, you called out Reni's name, your voice filled with worry. The absolute silence that greeted you only intensified the racing of your heart. You had already searched her room and the kitchen, and now you approached the parlor, growing more anxious by the second. Morenike was nowhere to be found.
Trying to remain composed, you fought back the overwhelming thoughts and worst-case scenarios flooding your mind. How would you explain to your sister that her precious child had gotten into some kind of danger under your care? The mere thought fueled your panic, and you could feel your energy surging as you moved faster, almost running, as you checked every toilet in the house that held dangerous liquids like hypo.
Still, there was no sign of Reni. With only two options left, you made your way to the master bedroom, silently praying that she would be there. If not, you would have to go outside and ask the gateman if he had seen her. How could a three-year-old open the door and leave the house without your knowledge?
You flung open the door to the master bedroom, fingers crossed that you'll find Reni probably sleeping on the bed. And from behind you came the high-pitched voice that could only belong to one person, "Aunty, Aunty! Look, I'm wearing mommy's shoes!"
With an overwhelming sense of relief washing over you, you turned back almost immediately. But what met your eyes was far beyond what you had anticipated. Not only was Morenike wearing the expensive Zara shoes your sister had recently bought, but her face was also smeared with what looked like purple lipstick, and her dress was adorned with brown patches resembling foundation or concealer. It seemed like a makeup apocalypse had occurred, and mascara had transformed into war paint.
"Morenikeoluwa!" you yelled, trying to sound stern, but your heart couldn't help but rejoice that she was safe. You were supposed to be upset about the wasted makeup products that your sister will probably kill you for, and the additional mess you now had to clean up—the remnants of her artistic exploration scattered across the floor.
But amidst the chaos, you couldn't hold back your laughter. What struck you was the fact that this shoe-wearing incident was something you had done countless times in your own childhood.
As Reni saw you laughing, she jiggled her bumbum and smiled even wider. It was clear that this little girl had no idea of the immense worry she had caused. You were supposed to scold her, maybe even give her a light smack on her tiny hands with your index finger, as you usually did when she misbehaved.
But as you undressed her and prepared to clean up the mess, a faint thought whispered in your mind—why did we always want to grow up so quickly?
Now that you were an adult, there were many things you couldn't do, and you still felt dissatisfied.
Why did we hold on to the incessant desire to rush through life, always reaching for the next step on the ladder?
Why did we believe the lie that the next step is only what mattered?the same lie you currently held on to that made you anxiously look forward to graduating from the university as quickly as possible.
Why didn't we prioritize making memories and cherishing the present as much as we looked forward to working towards the next big thing?
Still in your thoughts, the doorbell rang. And your remembered that you sister told you she would be returning early today.
You couldn't even figure out whether to keep her waiting and clean the mess first or just open the door and take all the nagging that will follow.
From the statistics you guys enjoyed the last story so I hope you enjoyed this more and you have reminded to enjoy the present even as we work towards the future.
Don't forget to like and tell me, did you ever do what Reni did?😂
I'll be waiting to laugh at your responses in the comment section. Happy children's day in arrears.
Stay Intentional,
Abigail.