Gray hairs, he had them .
Not too much that you couldn’t see sprouts of jet black strands that showed the beauty of his youthfulness ,but enough to know that those days are far gone.
Staring at him as the motorcycle whisked him away from my sight ,I thought to myself- This old man was once a boy.
I imagine him in his mother’s womb, basking in the euphoria of innocence that the warmth of a womb afforded him. Ignorant of the world that awaits him. Floating in the vagueness of consciousness and unconsciousness.
The cry of a baby would have been heard in the delivery room on the day he was born. Unbeknownst to him , a baby born in the western part of Africa. Unaware of the fate before him. Either a rich family who could afford him a new shawl, or one who had to beg relatives to hand over that which has been used. “It is a boy” , the nurse would as told his mother .
A boy .
I imagine his naming ceremony, the dancing, singing , and prayers. His mother watching her newborn in her hands, oblivious to all he might become yet desperately praying it is good.
A red top and a blue trouser I imagine he might have worn on that day . Nothing but a little baby unaware of the world around him, and that which would be.
I would begin to think about the life he had lived.
What kind primary school did he go to ? Was it an expensive one where he had a driver drop and pick him up from school, or did he have to walk several kilometers to get an education?
Was he serious with school? Did he enjoy learning , or he preferred to do things with his hands?
Did he have a learning disability that couldn’t be discovered because he lived at the far ends of Africa?
What kind of childhood did he have? Did he run around a lot as a kid, or was he one of the ones who preferred the beauty of silence?
Was he beaten into timidity ? Or was his confidence embraced rather that subjected to the doctrine of obedience?
What kind of trauma did he endure? Did he have a present father?
What were his deepest fears? Did he ever wonder where his next meal would come from ?
Was he also afraid of the future and the uncertainty that comes with it ?
How many dreams did he not actualize because of the fear of failure? The relationships and businesses that failed.
How did he land his first job role ? What made him land his first job role ? What career path did he take?
Was it what he wanted? Did he even enjoy the jobs he took ?Or he didn’t have the luxury to know what it means to enjoy your work?
Has he ever been in love? What was his first experience with love? Did it stay, or grew its wings and fly ?
What was his experience with heartbreaks? or did he break hearts instead?
Is he happy? What are his regrets? If given another chance ,would he have done things differently?
Is his life a collage of beautiful memories he would forever cherish? or did he spend it playing safe and barely reaching his potentials?
Who this man is,I don’t know. But I know he was once a boy , a boy with dreams and aspirations. Unaware of the world that lied ahead of him . Now he is older with grey hairs as witnesses of the years he had lived, and I can only hope he lived the life that he dreamed of ,and is at peace with it .
An old man I know, was once a boy, oblivious to the man he currently is. Yet at his core still a boy.
Hey community member , how are you doing?
I hope you are great.
This piece came from an actual incident .
And i hope it reminds me as well as you to keep on dreaming and also to dream big because at the end of the day tomorrow is closer than ever.
Remember you can always rest here. Away from the hustle and bustle of life , here is home .
Come as you are.
Don’t forget to clap for this as many time as possible .
Till next time.
Ss(soul sister)
African writer.
Nigerian.
Aging.
