An Open Letter To Five-year-old Me Who Had Her Daddy
Bask in your luxury
Before the age of 17, you would have forgotten how his voice sounds
bask in the luxury of it
Whether high-pitched and scolding or low-toned and complimentary
The many hairs on his hands may seem mysterious now but
Don’t keep looking at them in wonder
hold unto them instead
put your tiny palm into his every chance you get
bask in the luxury of it
You will lose N150 on your way to school, and he will beat you
He will say you play too much; that was why it fell off your schoolbag
Cry
But, remember to hug him afterward
This will be the lone memory you will have of him in twenty years
bask in the luxury of it
He will drop you at the Sunday school class
You are always so obedient and quiet until after church service
You don’t need to be.
Refuse. Be a crybaby.
Insist he carries you in his arms through the church service
you have only so much to attend with him
bask in the luxury of it
