Busting my little Nephew

Apologies for not writing before now. My brethren, stress too much, especially when you are busy trying to get gossip that will make for irresistible read. Or I should blame it on the PHCN. Those guys surely know how to toy with the switches, so much that one doesn’t get to have electricity supply when one needs it. My desktop runs on that.

March 1 was my nephew’s birthday. But I hadn’t time to write on it till now.

The little boy, Gozie, just turned one but already in Primary 4, so it seems. Smart you would say, wouldn’t you? He’s in Primary 4 in the house re-arrangement department, or if you would be mild, Interior Décor. The little boy was so much in a haste to start his practice that he began walking at 7months. At 8months he had constantly made rigmarole of all the rooms in the flat. And before he was 11 months old, he had learnt the tricks of maneuvering the little blockage set for him to prevent him from getting into troubles with domestic items.

For instance, the centre table in the sitting room had long ceased to be at its rightful position. Isn’t it supposed to be at the centre as its name suggests? But it now forms a partial wall in front of the musical gadgets. Anyway, no problems. I think the guy likes the sound of music. He dances to hot beats like D’Banj’s “Igwe”, P-Square’s “Do Me”. In fact, anything hot on the beat interests him. Perhaps he could become a musician one day. And hopefully I will be around to affirm to his interviews when he tells them he started listening to music at a tender age. Isn’t that what all musicians say? “I started singing when I was …blab bla? I will tell them my nephew broke all records. He started before he was one. You need to see him demonstrate his steps in vertical dimension with hands flying up as if he wants to hop. That’s how my Gozie likes to dance.

Wait, perhaps the little boy may want to be a computer guru or a writer like me. Why my suspicion? I will tell you. The computer, formerly nestling comfortably at a corner in the room before the boy was born, now has its fair share of disturbances. He wants to type on the keyboard each time the objects catches his fancy. Its mouse has often found itself on the floor, causing it to be ruptured and replaced. Still, no problems, except that he may cause more scare being a writer than a computer wiz kid.

But I seriously suspect his dad, my elder brother, may not want him to be any of that, especially since I haven’t made it big yet. He bought Gozie a ball as soon as the boy started walking. Who wouldn’t, considering the mouth-watering endorsements and sign-on fees footballers get these days. Put on paper, a Mikel Obi plying his trade in England with Chelsea FC possibly earns more than what the whole of his community earns. That’s true! Check how much that lad earns per annum. But why football? Why not get the little boy a stethoscope to take after him? I mussed to myself. Hope my brother doesn’t get to hear my thought.

Don’t worry, we are still on course…the guy is barely one. He has a whole lot of his life before him. He has his choice to make when he’s of age. At least, his father and I agreed on that.

The in-thing now is that one of Gozie’s gifts for his birthday (a little puffed leopard-skinned-puppy with a “Wild about you” tag sticking out of its mouth) is scaring the shit out of him. At least, the house now knows a little peace as the toy gets placed at any corner or close to anything you don’t want Gozie to touch.

As I watched him run for safety each time he sighted Bobby (that’s the toy’s name), I smiled to myself “truly, it’s only the eyes of a child that fear a painted Devil.” Whoever said that must be right!

Wait! Strangers also scare him… what a kid! But with family members or known faces, Gozie could cause you more stress by following you around. He likes to play. Phat..phat..phat…that always heralds his foot sound on the tiled floor. And this is often!