Hi, I’m Ngozi Ufere and when I was a little girl, you had to forcefully peel me away from a cake, literally.
I had the regular sweet tooth featured in normal-sized kids or maybe a little less sweet because I was underweight for most of my childhood. To be honest, I was more intrigued by the allure of having a cake than the actual cake itself; the scattered crumbs and the slightly nibbled-on cake was always proof. But you’d have to kneel before me and proclaim my supremacy as the queen of the Ufere family before I’d consider sharing it with you. (Here’s the irony, I’m the last born.)
While reminiscing about my childhood, I tend to skip moments suppressed under the mighty hand of time but one which has stood unscathed for years was my 6-year-old birthday. I was a little kid who didn’t understand the idea of time. And, born on the 4th day of December meant any celebration done that month was a tribute to my birthday – I didn’t care if I was snatching Jesus’ birthday in the process. December was mine, and mine alone.
On my 6th birthday, I got all the love I deserved from my family which of course included gifts, but, there was something missing – a cake. Fortunately, I didn’t fuss. Actually, I didn’t notice because I was engrossed in my new dresses and shoes. I was basking in the euphoria of my birthday and didn’t observe time slip by until I saw my birthday cake.
But… the thing is… it wasn’t my birthday; it was Christmas day.
Ah! Baby Jesus! I love Jesus, you know, but that cake was mine, not his. So I laid claim to it because my 6-year-old self wasn’t going to be cheated out of owning a cake. After asking nicely for MY cake and being refused to be given the C of O (certificate of ownership), I knew it was time to get real.
I threw myself on the flow in a fit of rage and let out the loudest screeching cry my little voice box could muster. And, I didn’t stop until I had my way.
Guess what? It worked! Urgh! last born perks!
This story is by the Deputy Editor of Pride Magazine Nigeria, Ngozi Ufere.