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By Kwarisiima Syson
As a kid, I visited relatives during the school holidays. Our parents made sure of it. They believed it was good for our upbringing, as it would expose us to different environments and ways of life. In short, I would be more exposed and better equipped with multiple life perspectives than my peers.
I remember that in some of those homes, whenever we sat down for breakfast, bread was strictly reserved for the husband and wife. In others, it was for the parents and the lastborn—usually an annoyingly stubborn five-year-old.
In some homes, in the evenings, the father would come home with meat or chicken, which he and his wife either ate in their bedroom or shamelessly enjoyed in our presence in the sitting room while we watched. I noticed their children struggling to focus as Brock Lesnar beat the hell out of Big Show because the aroma and loud chewing from the meat were hugely distracting.
Syson the writer, advises people to enjoy their food regardless of childhood memories
I found this strange because, in our house, we all shared the bread at breakfast. And in the evening, when Dad came home with muchomo and other goodies—sometimes just a bag of sugarcane—we (his kids and wife) sat down and ate together. As for him, he would just sit back with a satisfied look on his face, watching his family demolish whatever treats he had brought home.
Anyway, I see those of you who grew up in homes where eggs, bread for breakfast, and chips and meat were strictly reserved for Mom, Dad, and maybe the lastborn—now downing five boiled eggs in one sitting, under the guise of trying to lose weight.
It’s childhood trauma responding to years of lack. Eat freely. Those old folks did you dirty. Eat everything—you can afford it now. Just stop hiding behind diets and weight loss excuses. Just eat. You’re an adult; no one will judge you.
The Writer is a Facebooker
