I grew up in a rather large family. A lot of kids,and more than enough extended family shared our space. For most of my life, I thought most of them were blood relatives. But come to find out they were either related from momsie's side or just the kid of someone who died or a family going through a hard time.My mum is one of those people who will deny herself anything to help people, she's been burnt numerous times and you'll think she has learnt her lesson.
We cooked in huge pots, everyday was like a party, we were all regarded the same, no special treatment of any kind for anyone especially the biological kids. My father was the almighty disciplinarian, he towered over you and had a voice like James earl Jones. I love my parents for the heart they gave us, the heart of acceptance, knowing that you are not self sustained, living for the next meal or handout. They showed us the need to work hard and be your own person.
My family house in Lagos is an empty place now, I was there on my last trip to Nigeria and it brought back a lot of memories, everyone has since moved on, gotten married, relocated abroad, died or just emancipated. Family life is a beautiful thing.
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reminds me of 'm days. It wasnt easy.
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