Grandpa dearest - By Cabella

I did not talk to my Grandpa much because he did not talk much. You know, the usual greetings and respectful pleasantries and not much more. When my folks informed me that Grandpa was going to live with us, I sort of freaked out in my mind! Since I really did not have much rapport with the Old Champion, I decided to prepare myself by making a list of possible topics of discussion. My parents said I was taking it too seriously. I thought that being prepared was a smarter strategy.

Grandpa came and it was awkward. Anytime I talked to him, he looked at me intently and nodded. He nodded at everyone. I was convinced that he was deaf.

I had been natural for about a year when Grandpa came to live with us and one day he called me. I did not respond. He called again and much louder than the first time. I peeped out of the kitchen. He motioned with his hand for me to come. I was hesitant at first, afterall wasn't he deaf. Then I reasoned that he may be deaf but not necessarily dumb.

I moved out of the kitchen cautiously and sat in the chair next to him. I stared at him inquisitively and then at the clock over his head. He leaned forward and whispered "You are the most beautiful grand-daughter I have you know?" I bet he says that to all his grand-daughters! I grinned my cutest grand-daughter grin. "Thank you Grandpa" I responded in a bit of a loud voice just in case. He looked at me quizically. I guess I was not loud enough. "It is true" he continued. I nodded my head. "So you don't have to dress like a boy!" he finished by leaning back in his chair.

Okaaay? What just happened? I thought this was leading up to a tender Grandpa and Grand-daughter moment. "Ehn?" I asked. "I know you are the only girl in this house but you don't have to look like your brothers" he argued. "I am the only girl child of my parents Grandpa, Mommy is a girl ... woman too" was my response. "I know! I know! But you don't have to look like a boy" he countered.

"How do I look like a boy?" I asked because I was not sure what he was talking about.

"Your hair. Your hair is like a boy's own and you don't comb it. It is jagga jagga and that is not the way girls should dress." he answered. Gbosai!

My Grandpa wasn't deaf. He was crazy!

"Oh Grandpa! That is the style. It is a twist-out. Shebi you people carried your hair like that in those days?" I responded to him.

Grandpa told me that they wore "combed" afros in his time and not this scattered hair that I was carrying all over the place. I was amused. "Okay sir, I will adjust" I promised him and I did adjust. I knew that I was not going to win this one so I went out and bought myself a few combs. What's a Grand-daughter to do? Whenever I carried an afro, I made sure it was combed for the Old Champion and things went right back to normal. I talked to him, he looked at me intently and nodded. Although I think he now nodded with a small smile in his eyes.

Cabella