Dennessa Writes

As a young lass growing up with her grandparents, the TV station that was almost never changed was NTA. I hated the 9'o clock news and the gibberish they sat spewing for over an hour mostly because I never brought myself to comprehending it. My favorite show however was a Friday evening program - tales by moonlight, it had children like me and an adult who told them beautiful stories. Growing up in a Nigerian home there are always proverbs or proverbial stories of uncles you had never met or aunties or cousins, note however, the fact that you have never and might never meet these people. I likened them to the stories of aunty Ada in the tales by moonlight. My favorite proverbial story is of an uncle's uncle and his friend and their sojourn to Lagos in search of greener pastures. My uncle is an orator, a seasoned one, my uncle's uncle, I have never met, I mean the particular one in this tale. My uncle's uncle and his dear friend traveled to Lagos in a bus together

As we drove passed the old oak tree or what was left of it I remembered how often that had been a marker for people who were coming to our’s and were somewhat confused or how it had been the spot where I had my first kiss, or how often at times it had been the spot where all the children had gathered to tell tall tales. All that was left now of that magical spot was a stump and dilapidated wood wet and soggy from where I was sitting. Our drive wasn’t as short as it should have been and the honking of car horns and slow traffic made it even less desirable as we journeyed slower than usual. I let my gaze travel around seeing everything and nothing as none could hold my attention for more than a few seconds. Alas, a sight that seemed familiar, a little boy in a bus just adjacent our vehicle, he was pointing at every vendor and tugging at his mom’s shirt, and the mom, with every tug she looked the other way, I knew the drill, golden memories it brought back of a time when mother and I