Today, I shall come as I am.

For posts of this nature, I like to do some research, but not today.

My mother didn’t let me be over my children’s noses.

“Pull that nose”

I have written that in plain simple English, to spare you the trauma of having it like I did, in hot coals of fiery Igbo.

What was the matter? I was nonchalant about sculpting their nose daily with my fingers. The belief is that when you do, they get finer pointed nostrils.

I make a lot of jokes with my own nostrils. It isn’t strange to hear me compare it to that of the Queen of England, or one of the edges of the statue of liberty, or the top of the Eiffel tower. Most of these vain jokes, carry the same meaning, that my nostrils have a definite point. I am fed with tales of how they fondled my nostrils a lot as a baby, moulding it into this point.

So why won’t I reciprocate with all my heart? (Note that this means that I am doing some nose fondling, just not with as much zest)

I don’t know. This is probably what being a Lawyer has done to me. I think too much in black and white, no shades of grey.

Thus, I like to think that a child is born as they should be. I like to think that there is little I can do about the physical turn out of my children, apart from feeding them to ensure that they are of a healthy weight. 

I would usually have done some quiet research amongst mothers and some online reading, but as I come as I am today. I don’t know anything about this beyond what I think.

Thus, these questions beg answers in my head. Where did these practices originate? Do they work? Is there anyone who really fondled these nostrils but their kiddos ended up with flared nostrils? Or anyone who fondled and saved their children from the damnation of flat nostrils?

I hear that in some parts of Ghana, baby girls have their hips pressed and moulded from very little, hence they end up with such luscious bums. (I wouldn’t have minded if my Mom did this though)

The Ghanaian women that readily come to my mind are the screen beauties; Jackie Appiah, Juliet Ibrahim, Joselyn Dumas. Please, did your mothers sculpt your backsides? This is why I refused to embark on any online biology or physiotherapy researches, I want to hear from these women, I want personal experiences.

My boss’ wife fed me with tales of impressing dimples in her daughter’s bum as well when she was little, says its a lovely thing to have.

For male children, we hear ‘Press their heads’, ‘Dont let them lie on the back of their heads, it would be flat’ etc.

Do you do these things? Why? Why not?

In my quiet moments, I think to myself; my nose ain’t flat,  Kabiyesi’s own neither, so pikin wey say im nose go flat, na im destiny be that o.

But then, body images and insecurities are real issues. I remember being teased for my ears, they stand out a little bit. Someone did painfully call them Satelite dish in secondary school. Back then, I am sure I would have wanted my parents to have pressed them back a bit, if that was possible.

But I have grown above whatever body insecurities you may think of, there is no part of my body any human can use to make me feel bad. My scars or stretchmarks (even though no one likes to believe I have some) are my badges of war.

So while I fondle these nostrils from time to time, I hope to teach them most importantly, that whatever shapes their bodies turn out to be do not matter. That these bodies are mere containers and the shape of their character and souls matter the most.

Love,
Achalugo.

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