Children are the payback of marriages in many instances.
If marriages were businesses their break-even period is at most the first nine months—during which they spend all the money and gifts given to them at the ceremony—anything afterwards is pure shortage, especially, with the arrival of the bundle.
Children contrary to popular opinion are not such the cutie little dolls we think they are. For some they are no more like demonic agents sent to torment the souls of men, and of course women.
The Childcare Budget
To raise a child in today’s economy is so excruciating that you wonder why bother at all. A major disincentive for any conjugative relationship should be the sheer economy crush. The golden morn, pampers, clothing, medicals and laundry cost towers above the national minimum wage. Then, how many Nigerian fathers earn above the minimum wage?
A family friend, who earns #25,000 monthly, got so tight on finance to confront his six months old daughter to suppress her bowel movements. The little doll did and for three days the blood level of the mother was on the rise because no one knew what was wrong with the baby; until the father pleaded with the child to be gracious and release whatever was in her bowels. The child did, only this time, her father’s laps formed the WC.
We’ve all come to accept the noise of generators in our lives.
But how many have come to accept the noise of children. I haven’t. The cries of babes drive me to the cankers.
I have a friend, who has never lived with his parent since he was six-months.
His father had strolled in one day and declared Junior is old enough to have a junior, to the hearing of Junior, his mother and the mother-in-law, but Junior had other plans.
Every night when daddy creeps into bed with mother and they transferred baby-boy to the cot, Junior awakens and starts yelling. At that point nothing can pacify him until he his smothered in the reassuring bosom of his mother.
That was how that little creature sabotaged his father’s moves for several months until he was ceded to the grandmother for safe keep. Only a good father would forgive such a kill joy of a son.
My baby-sitting experience
Sometimes ago, a nursing mother left her baby in my care to run to the grocery. But for god knows why, the babe wouldn’t stop to cry. The pitch of his decibel was high enough to burst a close-by listener’s eardrum.
I tried my cutest smile to pacify the little demon; I read lines from my verse book and did a gangnam- style dance, but dude keep on yelling.
I resorted to my last antic, I carried it in my arms put up a very straight face stared for some long seconds and burst into a hysterical scream with a shit-face [the kind you use to behold your shit afterwards]. The baby quieted in a brief moment, hiccupped a few times and went completely rigid!
The babe never cried in my presence, again.
So, that’s how I became the silencer in my neighbourhood. Children don’t just cry in my presence.
Children could be very vindictive too.
There’s a story of a child who never forgets a hurt—we all had our ways of getting even with those brutish brutes of siblings. He was born the baby of the house but the eldest child made a mistake of ‘correcting’ him with a slap one day. The dude promised to show him at night, but no one paid heed to his threats.
When night came, the dude was awake with a very fine cane and hid himself behind the door in the room they all shared.
When the first lash came on the elder brother, he let out a savage scream from his sleep.
‘Ye! Kini mo se?’ [ouch, What have I done?]
The household ran to his rescue but not before the second lash. The visible stripes left concern on the faces of their parents.
They offered prayers binding the devil and casting evil forces away. They sprinkle anointed oil on the stripes and everybody went to sleep minutes later.
But the dude wasn’t through with big brother, so he rose again and lashed out at him two more strokes.
This time, the mother became convinced the kingdom of hell has descended upon the household.
“Father, we bind all demonic oppression in this house, in Jesus name!!!”
The “Amen” thundered out more violently because no one knows who’s next.
“Let fire burn every evil hand whipping our child from his sleeps, In Jesus name!!!”
After two hours of night watch, the family agreed to sleep but victim refused. It took the presence of the parents in the room to reassure him to sleep.
About, thirty minutes later little Lucifer arose again went to the hiding place, waved his cane casually in the dark to ascertain no one is watching. He waited some few minute and sneaked out a bit and tried to land another stroke…
“If you dare it!”
He stopped dead in his track, and the light came on…
And why do I tell you this tale? I believe you should count the cost of any venture before you enter into it. Parenting isn’t a bed of roses but knowing that kids are not always a bundle of joy gives, you heads-up on how to be prepared.
Kudos to all those who are raising children with all genuine sacrifices, shame on those populating the earth for all of your selfish reasons.