Did you have a nice weekend? Did too! Start from having a fabulous week; bestie came to Birmingham for a few days and we had a lot of fun! From catching up, to seeing a movie (‘In Time’ was amazing), to the workshop at Apple, to endless shopping (bet you thought I wouldn’t get here), boy did we have fun!
Bestie and I shopping!
For the weekend, I popped with my flatmate to her aunt’s for her baby’s dedication. I had promised about a month ago that I’d come to help (plus I’d bought the train ticket already) so I went. Was it a lot of work? Definitely! Did I enjoy helping out? Of course! By the way, I nearly missed my coach but that’s another story, one you probably should have heard too many times to be excited or amused about. Two major downsides to the trip sha, I missed service at my home church, and secondly (less important) a John Grisham novel I was reading didn’t exactly end the way I thought it would. *sigh*
Anyways, so I’m on the train home after my very eventful weekend (past 8.30pm), and suddenly the peace and quiet is shattered by the entrance of five heavily made up teenagers, one of them with enormous hips (or hips that don’t lie). Apart from the fact that I was disgusted by the amount of noise the urchins whipped up, I wondered where they were headed to, at that time. ‘Maybe home’, I thought, trying desperately to ignore the ruckus and concentrate on my novel. I was sure they weren’t headed home because of the transformation two of them underwent in a few minutes of them being on the train. Hijabs (the hair and face covering Muslim ladies wear) were lost, revealing long, flowing, already styled tresses of beautiful hair, no doubt well prepared for this time. Different hues of red touched already glossy lips, and in no time they all looked ready to model blood red lipstick for Elizabeth Arden or Revlon.
The question would be, where were these ladies headed, at this time of the night? And before you ask what I was doing/where I was going, I already explained above; I was heading home after a hard, yet very pleasurable day. And yes, I gave the girls at least 10 years on their ages, and where I’m from it is not best practise to question you elders! *sticks tongue out*
I imagine they told their folks they were going to have sleep-overs at each other’s house, and knowing parents wouldn’t check, met up somewhere, and disappeared.
Not acceptable. Full stop.
Or worse, as kids in these parts are wont to do, they would have ‘battled’ their parents for the right to go out, for whatever reason. I say battled because not only do I watch episodes of their lives on TV, I was at a friend’s when her younger sister (a very beautiful 14-year-old) tried the ‘this-is-the-land-of-the-free-and-the-brave-and-children-have-the-right-to-say-whatever-they-want’ on their mom, a lady from the Western part of Nigeria. Of course it didn’t end well, and if there had been an award for the parent with the fastest reflexes, walai this mom would have gotten it! I’ve never seen a slap that fast; the way she silenced her eye-rolling, rough-necking daughter.
Makes me wonder about my own upbringing and how my husband and I will raise our children. I’ve come to understand that are God’s gifts, and we are only caretakers. And I plan to take care of my own very well I tell you!
So, #DearFutureHusband, together we will
- Raise our champions (what my dad calls us) in the knowledge and fear of the Lord, us, and their society.
- I don’t believe this ‘times have changed’ gist; crap, crap, mega crap. Some values are ageless, respect inclusive. Certain things will NOT be acceptable, like having our 14-year-old out in the streets/in trains with their friends at 10pm.
- Ensure that to the best of our ability, our kids have a brilliant education. And lots of fun while they’re at it.
- Most importantly, show them every day that we love them (to the moon and back), and that their welfare (and wellbeing) is uppermost in our hearts.
Loving you in advance,
Your Future Wife.
- Dear Future Husband… (elizabethfrances.wordpress.com)