My sister showed us shege banza😐

Shege Banza!!

There's something about the name Chisom that makes me want to take off my slippers and flee. Probably PTSD as a result of my sister's doings. This sister who happens to be celebrating her birthday today🙂.

Dear Chisom, since I'm not around to give you a hug, I’ll write about your exploits instead and hope it makes you smile.

BASED ON TRUE EVENTS.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon in Akwarandu House - a compound known across the street for it's tribal uniqueness (If tribal uniqueness meant having just Igbos occupy the entire nine rooms in a semi face-me-i-face-you compound, alas! Akwarandu House was indeed unique).

This particular Saturday afternoon, a certain mother of four known as Mama Chioma came out of her one room apartment carrying a stool "Chisom! Chisom!! Come here let's start o!" She yelled as she beckoned on her third child who was engrossed in a game she was playing with other children.

You see, this mother of four was a very trendy woman but you wouldn't notice by merely looking at her, she probably preferred mere mortals beholding her full glory by looking at her children but that's another story entirely.

It was her third child's turn that fateful day and Mama Chioma came out with her tools; Hair cream, Combs, Hair beads, Wool e.t.c ready for work but something was missing!

"Where is Chisom?" "Oh!" she muttered when she saw her playing with other children in the compound. "Chisom come let's start"

The little girl knew her mother planned on making her hair today but why now at the climax of this game? 😩 She grudgingly got up, went to meet her mum and they started. Now Mama Chioma was known far and wide for her meticulous way of living. She believed anything worth doing was worth doing well and she was going to apply the idiom to her daughter's hair.

As Chisom sat on the mat and her mum above her, laps cradling her small head and strategically putting it in position, the little Ajantala started thinking of something she could do to keep busy. She looked at the box of bead by her side and with a sinister smile across the corners of her lips, it was obvious she didn't need to think further. She got the box and began distracting herself with the beads and their bright colors.

Mama Chioma got to work, luckily for her it was Saturday and other people were outside engaging in various chores so there was no room for boredom. As she laughed and spoke with two other neighbors, she felt a gentle tap on her laps but didn't pay much attention to it, Chisom was probably just seeking attention she thought.

The tap came again, this time Chisom looked up and pointed to her nose. Mama Chioma was confused so she placed her ear closer to her child’s lip to hear her clearly and understand what she was saying but this child kept pointing to her nose. Mama Chioma wanted to continue with the hair since she didn't understand what her 4year old was trying to say but Chisom kept tapping persistently.

"Mummy Bead n'imi" Chisom muttered in Igbo but her mum didn't understand so she repeated it again while pointing at her nostril. "Mummy, Bead n'imi".

Mama Chioma looked at the beads littered on the mat, looked at Chisom's right hand and saw three beads, looked at her left hand and followed the direction it was pointing to - her nose and she knew immediately.

The entire compound was thrown into pandemonium with Mama Chioma at the center of it.

"This girl has killed me oo Somebody bring torch! Somebody bring cotton bud! This girl egbugom!" As they pointed the torch into her small nostril, a red colored bead which looked like it has found a new home was sitting pretty.

They tried using cotton bud but it only inched the bead deeper.

At this point, Mama Chioma was shedding premium tears. Everybody seemed to have a suggestion and analysis bearing the implications of any suggestion that goes wrong. Mama Neche brought a tissue "Oya Chisom blowwww" Chisom blew with all her strength yet bead did not come forth. Wahala Pro-Max!!!

In that moment nobody knew where Papa Chioma breezed in from but we'll forever be grateful he came for in his lungs lay the solution to the problem.

He held Chisom's head, looked at the nostril where the bead was, positioned his mouth in the ‘bead-less nostril', blew mighty air into the empty nostril and the force of the air sent the bead in the other nostril flying out.

I am from a proper Nigerian home so I really don't need to say much about the beating that toddler received after our parents thanked Jesus for victory. However, that event marked the end of bead in the Nnamani household.

Happy Birthday Chisom! I pray your children no go do you wetin you do us. Amen🙏🏾