As long as I’ve known, I am one who loves being indoors. The possibility for me to remain indoors all week without stepping as much as a toe outside my house is undoubted. For me, seclusion is like a safe haven to express myself and live in my own universe.
But, the truth remains that it’s not always so. Sometimes, I wish I could just be normal and hang out with or make friends while other times, I love being alone.
My sedentary lifestyle is actually due to a lot of factors. However, in this post, I’d mention just one.
When I and my elder sister by a year and nine months were a lot younger, we were brought up in a disciplined environment where we had no option but to do as we were told, not out of fear of being flogged but in respect.
We lived on the uppermost floor of a 3-storey building in a middle-class neighborhood in Enugu. I can remember how every weekend, and holiday, I’d look out the window or balcony and see my peers playing and gisting. I’d always wish I was part of them but my parents’ instructions were not to be disobeyed. “STAY AT HOME”.
One time, I can remember so vividly. My dad was sleeping at his usual resting spot on the floor close to the door that led to the front balcony, and I was sitting on the headrest of the sofa close to the balcony door and the adjoining window that overlooked the house in the next compound. That Sunday afternoon, I was looking at my mates playing different games and sincerely prayed that the good Lord would make me telepath to their compound. For close to 30mins, I kept on praying that this happened. But hey, of course, I was really heartbroken when it didn’t work.
Eventually, I subconsciously found a way to embrace the indoor lifestyle. I began scribbling writeups, drawings, future plans, and eventually stories. My best feeling as a kid then was finding discarded notebooks my parents weren’t using anymore that had few unwritten pages. I would quickly develop ideas on how to use up those pages. If you’d come to the house, you’d see me writing, and the curiosity as to what this young lad was writing was inevitable. Speaking of which, maybe that’s why I hoard notebooks/jotter souvenirs to this very day.
I and my sister also found a way to pass out time together by doing plays by ourselves, for ourselves. Chai, Nollywood had nothing on us. Our storyline was magic and out of this world – at least we thought so.
As we grew, my sister found a way to step out. Then, we had this neighbor of ours that married and had his wife put to bed months later. They lived on the ground floor. When my parents weren’t home, my sister would go down to their house and keep the new mother company while helping out with house chores. That was how my sister became the lover of children that she is now. Me, I hardly went there. I would just stay indoors and write.
When I became a young adult, I got obsessed with being alone. Till now, I HATE moving out of the house. God willing, I found skills that didn’t require me to move out of the house. My mum would tell me that a sedentary lifestyle is dangerous to health but that one no dey concern me. To an extent, I fault my parents. Maybe if they had allowed me, I’d be an outdoor lover There were times when I was little I’d give anything to move out of the house but not now. I’d give anything to stay home.
The ironic thing is that my younger brother by four years had a softer approach to his movement restriction. He’s actually considered the most social of the three of us. What we couldn’t do as kids, my brother did to the fullest. He played street football, was a master in video games (despite the fact that we never had one), had friends street friends, became fluent in Pidgin English, etc. Thankfully, he had his morality and remained responsible despite all.
Well, that’s it for today. Don’t forget to comment, rate, and share this post. Tell me what you think.
