You know, growing up as a black kid in Naija is quite a feat. You have a lot of stories to tell, experiences to learn from, some of which you savor, regret or just don’t remember because you happen to be “lost in limbo”. No thanks to Papa for beating the shit outta yo’ spirit. As a typical Naija kid, sorry, pikin you must have at one time or the other chop at least slap, cane, slippers, belt, stick, broom, tree branch, iron rod, machete…etc. with the amount of massaging we undergo in our adolescent lives, it is quite a wonder why most of us didn't suffer from some sort of mild condition like a fractured bone, amputation, ruptured spleen, reshuffled dentition…
or brain damage. The massage here in question comes in two
forms: the initial one from papa, and one that usually comes afterwards from
mama using some hot water and napkins. It shouldn't be
much of a surprise to anyone when I say I think Nigerians would make great
rugby players.
Limbo limbo, black black limbo…ever so dark and lonely. You
peacefully float around in an unending black world without boundaries. We all
encounter limbo, in a dreamless sleep, unconsciousness, coma…etc
I once mouthed off at mama, but had no idea that papa was
listening from the sitting room…I paid a brief visit to limbo. The only thing I
could remember was that I woke up looking like Lazarus, clad in bandages like
an astronaut.
On a fateful Saturday morning, mama gave me her wrapper to
wash. I then spent the next two hours jumping from sofa to couch with two edges
or the wrapper knotted at my neck…superman style. Apparently, I wasn’t super
enough to fly away from her when she walked into the sitting room. Everywhere
went black. I recognize limbo anytime, anyday. *******then the glow of a
flashlight probing my eyes woke me up and I heard the nurse ask me how I was
feeling. “What happened?” I asked. “You’ve been in Coma for two days” I was
told. I swore never to watch cartoons.
I paid one of my girlfriend’s a visit. She then suggested we
check out her dad’s new hummer, issued to him from the army headquarters,
Abuja. To cut the long story short, he caught me making out with his daughter
right in the backseat. What happened next was a blur of fists, boots, elbows,
head and lord knows what. I once again visited limbo. Black black limbo, ever
so dark and peaceful. ***I felt the cool of two steel defibrillator plates on
my bare chest as a female voice yelled “CHARGE THREE HUNDRED! CLEAR!!! All
hands left my body as 300 Volts of electricity surged through me and I felt
like someone who used high-tension to do jangolova.
Feel free to add whatever experiences you've had with limbo. :D
Written by
Amerigo Bonasera