Innocent Truths

Although kids these days can be really smart and mature, learning quickly from the adults around them, and the vast exposure the internet gives. As a kid however, I was small and naïve. A child still trying to understand the world and the people in it, oblivious of life’s intricacies, and seeing merely the visible part of things. So I was a typical truth teller. I didn’t know what it meant to tell a lie or why I needed to.

In primary 3, after teaching about the dangers of smoking, my teacher asked the class if any of us had parents who smoked. None, raised their hands because of course smoking was totally out of the question for their model parents, and only riff-raffs smoked, which was our notion back then as primary school students. I however, raised my hands after thinking very little about her question. My teacher, and all the other students, went wide-eyed. They all knew my mother was the head teacher, and a role model to many. I told her my dad used to smoke but he had stopped. She smiled with relief, and said “it’s a good thing he stopped”. In spite of the “he has stopped” which I added to my confession, the whole class kept staring at me like I was from the moon. No one said anything to me regarding this, but their stares said a whole lot. I don’t know if she told my mom about this. All I know is, I told it as I had heard it from the arguments my parents had few days back.

Another time, a few years later, when I was in primary 6, my teacher while teaching about food, asked each member of the class what they had for breakfast. As he went row after row, I discovered that my colleagues had a variety of fancy foods for breakfast. Foods like, custard, Quaker oats, rice and plantain, spaghetti, noodles, chips and ketchup, bread and tea, rice and chicken kept spewing out. At that time, among my peers, foods like beans, and eba, were ridiculed, a normal occurrence amidst a bunch of immature kids. It got to my turn, and Mr Ben, my teacher asked; “Ogechi, what did you have for breakfast?” To be honest, I was really embarrassed. But I told myself I wouldn’t lie. At this point, telling the truth, I realised, had become more burdensome, unlike in grade three when it was quite easy. But still, I wasn’t bold enough to lie. It was easier to tell the truth. So I opened wide my teeth to feign a smile, and said in a tight voice; “I ate beans”. But deep down I was really embarrassed.

Eba and soup. It doesn’t look bad right? It tastes even better. I wonder why I was ashamed of it back then. Photo credit: Jide Charles (Jidus)

The beans I ate that morning. Photo credit: Yummy Medley
I think my embarrassment stemmed from the fact that, during lunch in school, everyone’s food was usually really fancy. This led me to believe that even at home, they all ate fancy foods. It didn’t occur to me that it was all a facade. I guess I didn’t notice that I too brought only rice or noodles to school to put up that facade. My mother never packed beans or eba for my lunch even though I ate that really often at home. It was not until I grew older that I realised this anyways. It’s not like these foods I mentioned; (eba, and beans) were bad. In short they are totally sweet and healthy. However, as kids, we had this perception that beans made a person fart. While eba was a local food made specifically for really local people. It was a childish notion obviously, because everyone around me now, have beans and staple foods as their favorites.

My mother was the headmistress of my primary school, and so she was among the organizers of all school functions and events. One time, the school organised an event, a visit to the orphanage to be made in two weeks time . It was announced during the assembly that each student was expected to come along with food items, to give the children at the orphanage. Each class teacher kept reminding their students about the items expected of them. As a result of the pressure mounted on me by my teacher, I kept bugging my mother about the items I needed to bring to school. At some point, she got tired of my wailing. She told me; “common stop disturbing me! It’s not compulsory you attend, since you’re not attending, it’s not compulsory you bring the items”. I replied, “but my teacher said… ” she cut me short; “I said it’s not compulsory you bring anything, you’re not attending” I sighed, and went back to my homework. The following day, my teacher, Mr Jawolusi, called me as usual; “Ogechi, where is your money, or food items for the orphanage visit?” I walked to his table and responded ; “my mommy said it’s not compulsory I bring anything and it’s not compulsory I attend”. Mr Jawolusi looked at me in disbelief, “she really said that?” he asked. “Yes” I replied. “okay, go back to your seat”. With that, I left him smiling to my seat, and relieved that at least now, he’ll stop bugging me. After school that day, my mom kept looking at me like I stole something from her. I noticed it but I wasn’t sure what her gaze meant. Eventually, she said to me; “Ogechi, so you went to tell your teacher what I said abi? Are you alright at all? Is something wrong with you?” I looked at her confused ; “but you said it’s not compulsory, that’s what you said” she replied; “and so? did I tell you to tell your teacher what I said? how can you tell him that! I expected you to say something else, I just told you that for you to know, not for you to report exactly what I said” “oh okay sorry” I replied confused.

Back then I didn’t understand anything she said. But later, after thinking about it, I realised that my teacher, Mr Jawolusi had reported her to the school. She was the headmistress, and it was out of place for her to tell me something like that, encouraging me not to make any contributions to the school’s outing. It dawned on me that I had put her in big trouble. After I realised this, I went back to her, and told her; “But mommy, if you didn’t want me to tell my teacher, you shouldn’t have told me. Or you should have told me to keep it secret” “common get out of here before I slap you” she hissed angrily ” with that I left her, feeling really sad, but at the same time feeling triumphant. I thought; “at least next time she’ll give me the things I need for school”

I was this confused when my mom confronted me. Photo credit: Tangled

These experiences show the naivety of children, how outspoken they could be, and observant they are. They learn by looking, and because they do not understand so much, they spew out whatever comes to mind without thinking. Only an adult thinks before talking because she has learnt from past experiences, the dangers of words. Diplomacy has made it easier to converse with people especially when it comes to sensitive details which we are unready to disclose. Hence, we tend to waive certain questions, by giving an answer totally unrelated to the question asked. Or, we state matter-of-factly that we would rather not disclose such information, or we plainly lie. This, is the difference between an adult and a kid, the difference between innocence, corruption, and maturity, and it all stems out of past experiences. An innocent mind has either not taken cognizance of the lessons behind each experience, or hasn’t really experienced life’s failures. Hence, she remains her self, saying things she wants to, oblivious of rules, or patterns. The mature mind, has learned great lessons from past experiences. But what is most important to her, is courage, and integrity. Keeping her up right, and honest. Whereas, a corrupt mind has taken his past experiences seriously, and has vowed to stay winning, regardless of what is right or wrong. Our past experiences somewhat erases our innocence; because we grow over time, become more exposed, and have more insight. This exposure could either leave us mature, or corrupt. A mature person is one who cares nothing about people’s opinions of her, and is bold enough to keep clean her integrity. Whereas, a corrupt one, after learning about the bad sides of humanity, has seen life as a race which must be won, by nook, or by crook, telling even irrelevant lies just to put up a great impression to the rest of the world.

So, which are you? The mature adult, or the corrupt one?