Bring Back Those Days

Where are the vintage days of sagacity, the days before things fell apart, I mean the days when the centre can still hold in our tribe. Days when the falcon can still hear the falconer without much hesitation and the rod that spoils the child wasn't spared to avoid corruption. Times before the ceremony of the innocent went to extinction. When matters were tabled before the kindred and the guilty would be filled with remorse; the generation that knew no word like divorce.
Bring back those days of native feeding & cultured nutrition, when roasted yam and palm oil were enjoyed under a mango tree with extraordinary relaxation. The days when Mango was Mango; the days of succulent Udala; when stock fish was enjoyed with African Salad our native Abacha, then, pounded yam or fufu were conventionally diluted with Bitter Soup, Okro, Egusi and Nsala.
Where are the days it was a farmer over white-collar and industrious hunter over armed robber; when our fathers climb the palm tree with bare foot and not a ladder. Bring back those days it was Palm wine over MacDonald, Smirnoff, Aromatic Shnarpps or Gulder. Where are my grandfather's drums, the mighty agogo, the gong, mono and kene before the era of jazz and a set of bands? Where are the days when high life music bangs? The days of Fella Kuti, Lucky Dube, Bob Marley, Osadebe, Oliver de Coque over Wizzy, Dbanj, Flavour and Reekado Bangs; the days of Bright Chimezie, Sunny Ade, China Peters and Patty Obasi the sage; the days of Onyeka Onwenu over Omaumi and Tiwa Savage.
Bring back those days when being a flautist, drummer and palm wine tapper were parts of our cultural heritage.
Oh! Where are the olden meaningful movies filled with sage? Where are movies like Igodo, Sins of The Father, My Love, Oh! Had I know and Living In Bondage? Wow! bring back the days of Saint Obi, Genevieve Nnaji, Omatala, Nkem Owoh and Pete Edochie.
Hahaha! where are the days of fashion, I mean archaic fashion? The antiquated days of flares; our so-called fella over pencil mouth and leggings; the era of bushy old school over galaxy and express carvings; when frumpy elongated skirts and artificial weavon were trending. Can the days of inked letters be brought back over Emails, Facebook or Whatsapp? When the quality of a written letter was sealed into an envelope with the lips via salivary emotion.
Oh! bring back those days when girls were girls and boys, boys. When girls were filled with necessary timidity and shyness and their signal for accepting a boy's proposal was by finally allowing him hold their hands. A girl would sit on the opposite bench and not on the boy's laps whenever she pays a visit, an exemplary of decency. That was when to be deflowered was highly feared, and the real love was valued. These were days names were strictly Ujunwa, Adaaku, Oriaku, Mgbeke, Chinelo instead of Pamela, Brenda, Lynda and Thelma. The  donkey years of Okonkwo, Okonta, Ikemefuna, Nwafor, Ikedinoobi over Dick, Jack, Harry, and Heller.
          Can the era of miscellaneous games and sports be brought back? The years of native athletic stunts, when they played cards and nuts. When hide and seek was done round the huts and we sometimes built huts with muds. Days when skipping exercise, games-start, hand-clapping and swelling exercise was the order of the year; when nail-tossing and solely-beating overshadows boredom for the day. When they play under the moonlight and every place becomes gay; when kids come together only to play and just to play.
I'm aware that myself and a host of others would love to bring back those days.
#Adios_Amigos

Authored by Nwoye Anthony (Tonio Lawreex)
07031836684
Toniolawreex@yahoo.com