Once Upon A Time

As I opened up the door to welcome my Father today, I remembered that as a little girl, i used to welcome him in a different way. Then my father was big, strong and tall or so I thought. He was my Voltron, the defender of my universe. At the sound of his familiar knock on the door, I would open the door and launch out at him like a rocket, however with joy and laughter on my lips, crying out ‘Daddy yoyoyo…..yoyo…..yoyo….yoyoyo’. He would catch me in his arms and throw me up. ’That’s my big girl! How was school today’? Filled with glee, I would leave his arms and rummage through his black bag, in search of biscuits, story books, Binta magazine, anything new at all. ‘Daddy what did you bring for me? Didn’t you buy anything for me from work? ‘I would say.
I would remind my Father of all he had promised to buy me. The wristwatch he promised me, the Chocomilo I just saw on the television being advertised, the Royco magi he said he was going to give mummy money for, so that I could give her flowers like the children on television did each time their mummy cooked a delicious meal with Royco.
In my excitement, I would give him a report of how my day went. what Uncle Quansah my school teacher did to my friend Bisi for being on the list of noisemakers, what my friends said about my Nkechi hairstyle, did I not tell mummy that I did not like the Nkechi hair style? How Voltron won the day’s cartoon episode and the story of how tortoise got his rough back which I heard on radio. He would smile, pat me on the nose and say, “you are quite a loquacious one, just give daddy some minutes to rest ok.
” Daddy what is lokasous? I asked.
“Go and ask your mum while I settle down ok” ‘he replied and went into his room with his bag.
My mother’s entry always ended my chatter
Adaobi! Won’t you allow your father rest before you start shooting questions at him? Oya! Get into that room and finish up your homework right now!” My mum’s roar always sent me scurrying to my room.
Today as I opened the door to welcome my dad, unlike the energy filled welcome that characterized my five year old being, today’s rocket seemed to lack the velocity to launch. This makes me really sad. I walked to the door like a programmed machine, like a robot whose programming looked like;
10 START
20 OPEN THE DOOR
30 OPEN BUCCAL CAVITY AND GREET SUBJECT (MALE)
40 KNEEL IN GREETING SUBJECT (MALE)
50 COLLECT ADDITIONAL MASS FROM SUBJECT (MALE)
60 CLOSE DOOR AFTER SUBJECT (MALE)
70 DROP ADDITIONAL MASS FROM SUBJECT (MALE) ON SUBJECT’S TABLE*
80 RETURN TO FORMER DUTY
I feel sad at the machine I have become. With every step I take towards the door, taking with me emotions securely guarded under the lock and key of my twenty-nine year old heart. Only to be let out in trickles as I so wish. My ’Father’s welcome definitely not on any trickle. Does age withdraw such joy, pure, yet uninhibited expressions of love while depositing in its stead the mechanical unfeeling motions of obligations?
My father on the other hand has aged graciously with bespectacled eyes and a sixty-nine year old body at war with tensions quite hyper that if I dare repeat my five year old welcome stunt, it would only translate to sending the man to an early six feet below, that I can’t afford a bit. I can hardly experience those lokasious, high velocity, rocket launching welcome days again, but I’m grateful to God I had those days at all, and I treasure every bit of those memories with me. My Once upon a time days.



22 thoughts on “Once Upon A Time” by larazworld (@larazworld)

  1. I can totally relate to this…but my own robotic phase would start with me wiping out whatever joy i have or becoming totally disinterested in whatever it was i was doing in the sitting room and end with me retiring into the room never to show my face again till the next day

  2. I can totally relate to this…but my own robotic phase would start with me wiping out whatever joy i have or becoming totally disinterested in whatever it was i was doing in the sitting room and end with me retiring into the room never to show my face again till the next day…or at least till he sleeps

  3. Why so sad?

    What changed?

    Did you grow up and become disenchanted with the man…saw how human he was and how comparing him to Voltron was unfair to him?

    Lost innocence I guess.

    Well done.

  4. I really don’t understand what changed…..is dat d speaker is older? or did smthing happen? nice one though

  5. Clear writing…But for me it lacks a certain depth…
    What happened?..Ur disenchantment with ur dad, is it as a result of some incident or is it just time?..Even if it is time that is responsible, it wouldn’t actually turn U into this kind of robot…Well done…

  6. Your story brings back lots of Voltron memories.

  7. This would have read better as a Non-ficiton. If it were tagged a Non-Fiction, true(!), I would vote it in anywhere and at any time.

    Damn…. I can well relate to this. Maturity really robs one of some sweet indulgences.

    1. Sorry, just saw it is under a Non-Ficiton. Good job, fellow writer.

      1. I was wondering….

        1. Wondering what? Kaycee, se you don come again ni? I get gun ready for my side o…

          1. I was wondering if you were blind ni
            @joseph omotayo

            1. @kaycee. Now you are daring me and my chest is puffing with anger. I could blast you o… Dare me once more!

  8. I think the arrangement could be better. It looks kinda jammed together.

    Hmmmm, I never used to jump on my dad or sing the yoyoyo song when I was little not to talk of now. But, 29 is too old to be missing those times na….

    Maybe you were too fond of him sha. Cool all the same.

  9. @larazworld, well… It happens.

    The writing could be better sha.

  10. I really really like the way I connect with this but like Da Writing Engineer said, the story needs improvement. Your punctuation as regards the use of dashes and semicolons is weak; and this is very important for writing that features trailing thoughts or reflections.

    Nice one. Keep improving you art.

  11. @larazworld, I enjoyed reading this – I felt the energy you described yourself having back then.

    However, I don’t believe that growing up means that we cannot show how happy we feel at the return of our loved ones… unless something specific has happened in your life to make you feel ‘robotic’.

  12. a very BIG THANK YOU!!! to every one who commented on my story. am so happy, your comments have made a remarkable impact on me. however, am sorry this is a coming a bit late…better late than never. thank you!

  13. @weirdpile:, @teewah: thank you
    @seun-odukoya: na water pass garri
    @obionyinye: the speaker is older and of course her dad is no more the voltron she saw back then.thanks
    @sibbylwhyte:the story is a flashback of the past and a short view of the present, and comparing both. thanks

  14. @khadijahmuhammad: thank you,@joseph omotayo: thanks joseph for your comments, @gooseberry:please i did not undertand what you meant by it being jampacked. pls throw more light. thanks
    @dawriting engineer,@tola odejayi,@chemokopi: thank

  15. I’m sorry too that mine is coming this late.. I just saw this piece and couldn’t pass.

    How can I put it?…I felt this very much.
    As a child I’d always fight with my other siblings to sit on my dad’s legs and insist that I slept in his room…
    Well, I grew older and of course some things changed…quest for privacy, adolescence etc, gradually crept in.
    But as some other comments implied, not every thing changes and I feel it’s either you used some words stronger than you intended or that you were too much in a hurry that you failed to throw more light on some things.

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