"Growing up, growing up?" I echo in resonance,
For I, too, trod that road with all its relevance
Growing up black — a narrative shared
Yes, I hold the records, stories bared
Growing up Nigerian — a distinct realm
A journey complex, at times overwhelming
Ever-changing paths, an odyssey untamed
From one spectrum's end to another, always engaging,
If queried, I'd choose to rephrase without hesitating,
"I lived," I'd declare, my perspective quite engaging.
As a child, I was thrust into maturity's embrace,
School's doors opened early, life's accelerated pace.
Expected to be learned, yet still a youthful soul
Parents' hopes high, their traditions taking its toll
Misaligned views met with their angered stance.
Now allow me to clarify, my intent isn't to convey,
A life riddled with difficulties, a clouded array,
But shared challenges found their way,
In a good home, yet African in every way.
A sentiment, I believe, many could understand
Once again I ponder?
Growing up, growing up?
Did we truly grow up, mature and through,
Or merely navigate a realm we barely knew?
Mistakes were a luxury, a privilege not mine
With siblings' eyes upon me, their admiration expressed
What's the essence of growth for children in haste?
Expected to be grown, in a world ever evolving.
How could I grow up, when grown is all I've always been?
So my question blooms once more "Growing up, did we really do that?"
From innocence to maturity's door,
A riddle unsolved, with time to explore,
It was a journey, both arduous and pure.
A narrative reshaped, with traditions and more.
Comments