What they say is true you only appreciate home when you leave it and the absence makes the heart grow fonder. My heart has been aching for the past weeks. I have been longing for my people so bad. I miss waking up to the chirrup of birds and the cackles of chickens. I miss being called Magano all day long. It’s those little things I miss. I made calls and I have gone through pictures but it’s still there -that hallow throbbing ache. It’s in that same spot where I think my heart is meant to be. My home is defined by the details and I miss every single one of them.
Home is supposed to be an oasis to the dry heart, an anchor to the drifting soul and wisdom to the confused mind. Home is where the heart feels at ease and a place where one is appreciated than tolerated. It’s a place where we are loved not just because of what we have but in spite of what we don’t have. Home is a place where we are not afraid to be ourselves, a place where we are not afraid of making mistakes and a place where we feel understood.
What I don’t understand are the people who don’t want to go back to their roots. I mean how possible is it that one doesn’t miss a place where they were born, where they took their first steps, met their first friends and became who they are. One thing that shatters my heart is hearing someone say “The village is this and that” referring to their home as a village. Hunnay there ain’t no harm in saying home is this and that. It’s quite interesting how some people go back to their villages or wherever they hail from and act like it’s a whole new world. Pretending not to know how house chores are done back there and even pronouncing vernacular words in some funny way. They say they hate the boring lives of the places they are from and all of a sudden the weather becomes too hot for them. And the worst of all is looking down on their village folks, passing by them without greeting them especially the elders or not even kneeling down when talking to them. The truth is that no matter how you choose to act towards your roots, deep down you know that you owe so much to that place that has shaped you into the person you have become.
For those who were born and raised in towns I understand but for as long as you have a place where your grandparents are, just know that that is your home. For those who were born and bred in the villages and spent half of their lifetimes in the villages, I see no point of you trying to act funny. You know precisely that that is where you belong, wil of nie sweetie you belong to that place that you call a village. I understand that a part of growing up is being able to make a home wherever you are but another important thing is recognizing your roots. You should respect where you come from, stick to your cultural morals and try not to conform to the ways of your secondary home. Those who call your secondary home their first home have pride in it so why can’t you prioritize where you come from.
Any place gets boring and old over time, but the place you were raised will always stay in your heart. There will always be memories that make you smile ear to ear. There will always be people who ignite warmth in your heart as soon as you see them for the first time since being away. Back home nobody cares how cool you think you are, how many bottles you pop in clubs. It’s about a simple life that involves your folks.I know you probably won’t ever stay home for as long as you have previously but when you do visit, appreciate where you hail. Soak it in as much as possible and always be thankful to your roots.
Love your home, any other home is taken… Chau!