Growing up African: On slap and pals.

First off, anyone notice slap is the mirrored version of pals?

Slap: A blow, especially one given with the OPEN HAND, or with something broad and flat. E.g Slippers, shoes, books, remotes, turning stick (omorogun) etc.

Pal: A friend, buddy, mate, someone to hang around with.

If it is to correct an excess of ours, is it safe to say a slap is what our pals would bestow upon us?

Subtlety is learnt at an early age, where I come from. You learn all sorts of eye expression from your mom, from the ‘I dare you to say yes’ look when you visit a family friend and you’re being asked if you’re hungry. To the ‘leave the room the adults want to discuss adult stuff’ look. They are so good with it, that they probably can create a whole new language around it. I don’t know if it’s a maternal ability or something but mothers where I’m from seem to know how to handle every situation by just looking at you in a certain way, and on the rare occasions that by some temporary glitch in my head, I default on the rules. Sure, I’ll be spared at the instant, but at a later time when the glitch turns to amnesia, I’ll be descended upon like a rabbit hunted by a lion.

You see, mothers can do a lot with their eyes, even plot points on your back for the perfect spot to land a hot slap such that no matter what sort of body contouring you try, your hand can never touch it. Have you seen a goat trying to scratch its body? You just have to run to the nearest wall for aid. Is it not you that do not want to ‘follow eye’ and want to prove stubborn like a goat. No matter where you come from, especially if you’re of the 80’s and 90’s generation, you just have to agree with me that our parents did not take spanking as a part time job at all. The subtlety is real such that you unbeknownst to you, by the time you’re an adult, you have undergone several self-defense classes. Every spanking is a training.

 One time, I defaulted, I can’t seem to even remember my offense but I remember the spanking vividly. I was sent to go bring something from her room, nonchalantly I bounced like all was well, I blame the amnesia. She tip toed behind me real quiet, and as soon as the door closed I saw her bring out the turning garri stick from her back and she practiced the art of wooden swordsmanship on me that day. Till this day, I believe any part from my wrist to my elbow on both hands can withstand any form of wooden equipment thrown at it. They are strict adherents of the phrase ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child’, but then again, what are we without their guidance. What is the worst beating you have received from your folks or siblings growing up as an African? 

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