Lessons from Grandma: The Grass Has Ears

Dear God,

The support system in African parenting is a phenomenon that should be studied, documented and replicated. The greatest challenge Africa has is their inability to record their concepts and keep a library of their traditions.

Growing up, we could have sworn that our mothers had eyes at the back of their heads. There were the frontal eyes that helped them move around and there were “the spy eyes” sitting somewhere at the back covered by hairs that saw all secrets and knew all secrets.

(You are laughing, Lord? It’s true. Seriously, that’s what we thought)

Okay, I have this story……

Grandma had a favourite sister. They were so close. At that time when there were no mobile phones or any kind of phones, we children became the automatic telegraph from one family to another. We were the message pigeons. Parents will send you to a compound to deliver a message and you come back with the right response from the receiver. Woe betides you if you forget, or mis-scramble the message, you will repeat whether you liked it or yes. Our poor legs paid the price.

Anyway, my cousin and I (Yes, Lord, that cousin, we were the Tom and Jerry in the house) were grandma’s most reliable message pigeons and were accurate in our correspondences.

So, on this day, she sent us to her sister to collect some items. On getting there, the sister didn’t have it, so she sent us to another part of town to go and collect it. We had to double back to her to report on that message and deliver what was collected before she sent us on our way home.

It was so tiring, and I was honestly exhausted. So, my cousin offered to carry me on his back. We were relatively the same age, same height and same weight, so imagine the viability of that backing, Lord. But we were kids and innocent stupidity was part of our existence, so we did it anyway.

He carried me on his back and dragged the load we carried and staggered forward. A few steps later we were all on the ground. Both what we collected and our humble selves. God, we had a good laugh that day. We rolled on the ground laughing our hearts out. I could still see us in my mind. The love between cousins, the daring, and the carefree-worry-free laughs we had.

Finally, we decided to sit under a mango tree and have some rest before continuing our journey. Then, I wasn’t sure how the conversation started but we ended up going fruit hunting along the way. Suffice it to say that we took a longer time than usual to get home and wasted a lot of time. But we had fun on the way and had some picked fruits to show for it.

Finally, we got home and from the looks on the faces of the adults at home, we sensed we were in some kind of trouble, but we had no clue what kind. Now, the idea is that when you start getting “the looks” from adults at home, “caution” becomes your first name until you know what the offence was and what the viable punishment would be. So, we tiptoed around the house and spoke in whispers wondering in God’s name what we did, how and when.

Finally, Grandma called me in to deliver my correspondence and I did. Carefully, and as precisely as I could get, so I don’t dabble into unknown waters.

“What took you so long?” she asked deliberately.

In my small years of life, I have come to know that only “the truth” could set you free. So, without batting an eyelid, I told Grandma the full story of our adventures. Even to the fall and laughs and fruit hunting. I did not hide anything, what was there to hide, we were kids, and “holy folly” was part of our nature.

“And what were you two doing under the mango tree, instead of doing what I asked you to do?” Grandma asked looking intently at me.

I had missed out on that one, not intentionally though, so I filled her in on that. She also asked a few more questions about our adventures that I missed out on, and I answered them plainly and truthfully.

Grandma was very satisfied, and she nodded. It was very clear to me that somehow, she knew every single detail of what we did on that road. Every one of them. But how? Either she had her spy-eye trailing us or she was a spirit. While cooking with her that evening, I couldn’t hold back my curiosity. So, I asked her.

“The feet that go warawara are always seen by the eyes that go warawara”, she answered mysteriously.

I was confused. What is “warawara” again? When Grandma wants to confuse you with her lessons, she uses proverbs, but I persisted.

“Mama Nnukwu, how did you know that we were telling the truth? I asked

“I knew everything that happened even before you got home”, she said mysteriously. I shivered slightly, was Grandma’s spy eyes at work?

How? I asked her intently.

“There is nothing hidden under the sun” she replied.

“But when we fell with the load, we were alone there, how did you know most of the things that happened?” I insisted

She then looked at me intently and said….”He who walks along the path must not ignore the fact that the grass has ears”

“Grass has ears. How?” I gave up. Sufficient for the day is the lesson thereof!

Much later, we realised that some women working in their farms near the same road had seen us and branched our house to report our adventures to Grandma. The grass with ears turned out to be the support parents who reported to our family what they had seen to ensure our parents were aware of our extra innocent stupidities.

They felt that the way I, especially (“being the girl”) was playing and laughing with “the boy”, alone was suspect and may tend towards “rough play”. Again, they probably didn’t know that “the boy” was a “1st cousin” and “rough play” was out of the question. Back then, there was no place in our lives for tom-boyism. Obi is a boy and Ada is a girl. Period.

 

No matter how much Obi felt like a girl, you dared not show it or discuss it. They will beat that feeling out of your life and reset your brain quickly. Today, people have enough guts to “feel like” and not only feel like it but “change” into what they feel like … Hmmm.

I can still hear my mum, grandma and the other adults’ voices shouting out at us (depending on which of them caught you with your guards down) …..”Sit like a woman, talk like a woman, walk like a woman, eat like a woman, chew like a woman …….” And how dare you? Just how dare… you … do otherwise? Sometimes, they won’t even talk, you will see a slipper or shoe fly towards you, and woe betide you if you are not alert….. Boom!

(Grandma would be biting her index finger and flipping it up and down in her grave now to see how badly things have changed)

But now, it all makes sense how the grass would have ears.

Every parent had an extra pair of eyes from other parents. Parents watch out for each other to ensure that each one raises a wholesome child. And that is why in my tribe, they say, “It takes a village to raise a child.” Hmmm

Grandma didn’t have any pair of spy eyes at the back of her head. And the grass didn’t have ears. Each parent just had a strong community support system that helped raise the child and kept a keen eye on them.

That is the very singular principle on which you, Lord, created humanity, so each one could reach one. “Each one, reach one, each one, teach one!” You must be weeping to see the amount of selfishness that exists with humanity today. We are currently practising……” Each one, pull one down”. What a pity…. what a mess!

I am so sorry Lord; I know humanity could do better. I know we can be better, and we will try. From the beginning, it was not good for man to be alone. Not just in the sense of man and woman but in the sense of human interactions. The essence of humanity is connectivity and therefore we must be careful with what we do with people that you Lord put in our paths. Every human you meet is a gift for connectivity. You chose how you relate. Do you reach and teach or reach and pull down?

“Each one, Reach one, Each one, Teach one”!

This is your daughter, reaching out to you Lord and checking in.