The Joy of Out There

As a child, I never had company outside of my siblings, to play with. I would look at my cousins and wish we lived in an estate in the city where there are lots of other kids to play with. My sister and I even dreamt that when we grew up, we would live in an estate like South C or South B and our children would play play and never lack company.

Well we grew up. And adulthood made me appreciate the up bringing we had, with a lot of space for adventure and growth devoid of the citys’ problems like traffic, concrete heat, impossible dust and the pollution alongside garbage and all that.

We don’t live in the same place my sister and I, I have children she doesn’t. Our outlooks on life are as different and black is to white. But I do live in an estate, where my children now play with other children. Something that as a child I hungered so much for. Weird thing is when we moved into an estate, we were kept away from other kids. I fought really hard for any time I had to socialize outside of school. Even that little was well… awkward.

As a parent now I understand the fears my parents must have had. What kind of people will the children have to interact with, do they have the kind of values we want instilled in the children. As a parent I can control the home environment and anywhere I am at but out there… who knows what the children are exposed to? On the other hand, It is important to socialize and understand social plays and nuances from a young age.

I must admit, I do not get social nuances that easily, and I really do respect people who have the courage to point out to me where I missed out on something. That maybe partly from being heavily sheltered from the world as a kid and also possibly from my character. I am a dreamer, I see things as I want them to be rather that what they really are. Its my default setting. The wholes of trouble I am dealing with out of that are so epic that sometimes I consider hiding for the rest of my life to avoid them.

I don’t want my young men to grow up in a social bubble. I let them out to play with others. The Sudanese kids (surprisingly well-mannered and respectful children, nil for mum for being overly judgemental!!), the horribly mannered boys from up the corner (my gosh I pity their mother… I beat them into following my rules while in my compound, they don’t come often), the little arab kids who have the most thought provoking questions…. Name it, they come into my house for water or juice or whatever there is to fuel their play and I love it!

Of course when the parents hear I let the children out to play in the neighborhood responded with resigned anger (you can hear the unsaid words: gosh this girl just doesn’t do things the way they should be done properly). I have since been bombarded with horror stories of children being stolen or abused in the neighborhood. I do not refute that these things happen... hell, the young mums in my hood chatted about it and how to protect each other’s children… but we cannot lock up our children and expect them to grow into cultured social adults. It a calculated risk with as many stop gap measures as possible.

But the crux of this post? I just fill up with joy when I see my children out there playing and running around to their hearts content and yes I’m the kind of mum who considers a good day marked by how dirty the clothes are, how hungry the kids are and how many little feet pitter pattered themselves into a holy mess in the living room…. Yup, that’s a good day. (until I think of having to clean up!)