I grew up under the roof of parents who loved their children. Parents who were comfortable enough to get their children almost everything they needed. Top in my demands have always been toys and pets. In our home were various toys and teddys but pets were never there since mum hated cats and dad hated dogs. This however didn't stop us_the children_ as we loved birds, fishes and other pets. Our parents didn't see the need to have birds caged up and call them pets or grow fishes in the sitting room.
Toys and teddy bears on the other hand, were never denied us, hence their abundance in our home.
I was the one who was obsessed with the toys and the teddys. I was the only one who took time to name all the toys and teddys and insist they were called by their respective names. I celebrated birthdays for my own toys and sometimes for my siblings'. My mum would call me 'nna nwa' and say I would one day make a good father.
By the time my elder brothers were twelve, they were already bored with toys while my obsession for toys only increased as I grew older. My mother had to complain as she couldn't understand why after age fourteen I still asked for toys and teddys. My brothers said it was sending wrong signals and creating a gay impression. My father insisted his son couldn't be a girl who likes toys and teddys. My kid sister always praised my love for toys and how I took care of them and this got me her friends' admiration. My friends called me childish saying I ought to be ashamed of myself and went on to make me the focus of their jests. I personally didn't get the 'toys-teddys' fuse.
Within me I knew I had reasons to love my toys and teddys. I wrote stories about them and told them those stories, a habit I formed as a child. By the time I was nineteen years old, nobody bought me any new toys or teddys as gifts. Mum passed a rule banning new toys and teddys for her young adult as she would call me. This didn't disturb me as I only increased my fondness and bond with my old teddys as such that they became part of me. I took better care of them. I saw them now as my 'helpless' kid siblings; helpless because they couldn't talk to me. Musing over the words I told them and making no sense out of them was exactly why I loved them. I couldn' t reach out to them neither could I make them understand and see things from my point of view. The desire to have them understand me inspired my love.
Often times I sit to think how I could get into their brains. I wondered if they had a life among them even as they lay lifeless, if the teddys and toys existed somewhere I couldn't reach. If there was such a place, I sure wanted to reach it. I wondered if my toys' King and Queen were really King and Queen in their kingdom. I wondered if there were other Kings and Queens in their kingdom to share their throne.
And their subjects? Do my other toys come from the same kingdom as my toys' King and Queen? Do they enjoy being led by their King and Queen in their kingdoms as they enjoy it here in my room where I give them the orders, carry it out by myself and give them credit for their loyalty?
Too stupid for an adult I often thought but it didn't stop me from wondering if my toys frown at how they are treated by my family and perhaps decided to play the silent game with me to revenge their wrongs. I apologise on my family's behalf as often as possible, then pick up my laptop and type toy stories upon toy stories and buy newer toys without my mother's knowledge such that I created a toy kingdom in my bedroom smaller than the one I have in my room in school where no bans existed for toys. Ever wondering how life is in the toys' world.