SHALLY A.

My childhood memories are filled with stories of my mothers. We drove to Mummy Taiwos’s office, my mum’s Twin, from Corona School every weekday around 4:00 pm and waited for her to close from work. As my brother and I walked into her gigantic office building, ICON, we were welcomed with tender smiles. We took a lift to her office and her hallway was filled with colleagues who seemed excited to dote on us. They gave us sweets and asked us the same (always the same) questions about school. And I always had the same answers, ‘fine, ma/sir.’ Mum Tee, had a medium-sized office with a table and chairs we moved around so we could hide under her desk. My brother and I will play games and sometimes talked while we waited for her. We tried to not be too loud because mum seemed ‘serious.’ Sometimes, I would stand up to look into her eyes and smile. She made me proud. She was always stylishly dressed. Her blood-red lipstick contrasted with her extremely light-skinned face and her curly black

am trying hard to imprint in my head with a permanent marker   the words responsibility, change, pain, love, diligence its tough I am not the child that her feet plays pitty-patty in the rain my face is lined with mature bones body curved with precision  and fearful perfection eyes deeper and more mysterious my smile has lost its careless abandon dreams far far away Alice in wonderland growing up is tough it’s just less delightful than childhood less protected and less free I want to be a child again   I wrote this poem in 2010... I still have those moments where all I want is to be a little girl again. ;)