I had to dig deep down for this day of the UgBlogMonth Challenge. Thankfully, the Arts came to my rescue with some happy childhood moments.
When I was around 8 years old, while seated at home one sunny afternoon, something like a tune started dancing in my head and along with it, words. I was a reserved child which meant the world in my head was rather eventful. However, even for my eventful mind, this was a new experience. I picked up a pen, and wrote the words down in an exercise book. I don’t know where the book is anymore however some of the words stuck with me and so did the tune. I’ll never forget the tune. It resounds in my head even as I write this paragraph. Perhaps one day this song will see the light of public day. I started writing more often from that day forward. Strangely though, the pieces that came to mind after that came with no tunes despite the fact that when I wrote them down on paper, they followed a similar structure to that first one. Somehow, the words that I put down on paper helped me explain what my emotions couldn’t. I never shared those pieces with anyone. It was much later in life, when I joined secondary school, that I found out that those pieces I loved to write had a specific name. It was Poetry; and I’ve been in love with it ever since.
On a different day when I was about 10 years old, without anyone instructing me to do so, something in my mind told me that it would be nice to draw the front facade of the house we lived in. I had been drawing little sketches of people for a while and I needed a new challenge. I picked up my clipboard, ruler and pencil, and positioned myself in front of our home. It was a rather engaging process. Just when I was about to finish, one of my brothers returned home. He saw me drawing something and asked to see it. Please note that the age difference between him and I is almost 9 whole years so he was about 19 years old and must have just joined university.
He sounded pleasantly surprised when he said, “Wow, did you do this? You should do Architecture when you grow up.” Architecture. That was a new word that was introduced to my world. I was very blessed to have that word introduced to my heart and mind so early in life.
The third and final memory is from the age of 11. There was a channel called Lighthouse TV where one of my favourite shows was aired – Colby’s Clubhouse. Oh, how I loved that show! I loved the music and the kids. I loved that they were so proactive and creative. It opened me up to a whole new world of possibilities. I decided with great resolve that I too would form my own group of young musicians. The band would be made up of my friends and I.
My parents had a beautiful big radio which could record on tape. If you don’t know what tapes are, I don’t know how to help you (insert smiley face). I asked someone to buy empty tapes for me, I don’t remember who. I told them that I wanted to record some music. Then one weekend when I was set to go for a sleepover at my friends’ place in the Bugolobi Flats, I asked mum if I could go along with the radio because I wanted to record some music. She agreed without asking many questions, which was really sweet of her.
I got there and gathered all the kids. I told them we were going to record music and one day be on TV. I had very big dreams. I led us in practice. I can’t remember what songs we practised but after that, I got the radio and started recording. I recorded once and asked that we repeat the recording. I think it was on the third recording that the other kids started to look out the window. They were tired. I was so determined but there was no way for me to convince them to continue. And that was the end of my dreams. There is no Colby’s-like band for my friends and I, to this day.
I’ll sneak in a quick bonus memory. I don’t know what age this happened at, perhaps because it looks like something I probably did more than once. Because of the massive age gap between my older brothers and I, I often had only myself to entertain me. I remember locking myself up in the girls’ bedroom, tying a cloth on my head (to mimic long hair) and going to stand in front of the mirror.
I would strike a pose, smile and say something like this: “Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to this week’s show. I am your host Keziah….” I proceeded to say a bunch of things I can’t remember. A part of me still thinks I’ll be a TV show presenter in this life, someday.
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Stay safe. Stay happy. Stay grateful.
Keep dreaming like a child.