Memory

What comes to your mind when you hear the word “memory”? To some, it’s the ability to recall, to others it’s the ability to record. Ok, so I got this definition from a dictionary, permit me to not say the name;
        “… the ability of an organism to record information about things
          Or events with the facility of recalling them later at will…”
Notice the two words in the definition, “record” and “recall”. So, it’s not enough to record these things, if you can’t recall them, whatever you think you have is useless.
Growing up, I guess I was blessed with “good” memory. I had the dates of events in my head, I remembered the exact words people. My mum once told me that I got the gift from my dad, she said it was a gift. I was pleased, anything I got from my dad, I cherished. The “good” memory was a blessing in my academics, I always aced my papers and graduated with a wonderful CGPA. My memory isn’t all that eidetic, heck, I don’t have my account number in my head and I tend to forget the pathways in my biochemistry textbook. Something that has to do with short-term memory, I guess. But in all, I helped my mum and friends find things they lost. I always remember a face and sometimes names, but I never forget a face. The way the lyrics of old songs were in my head, one would think they were engraved on the wall of my mind. In all, I was having a good time having a “good” memory. But then, everything that was good, also had its bad sides.
When I remembered something I and someone shared and the person didn’t remember it, I feel stupid trying to convince the person that it actually happened. For example, in my secondary school, I had a friend who gave me a nickname, no one else calls me that. After five years, I remind her of the name she gave me in school and she yapped about that never happening. Jeez! I started to think I was weird. It’s not like I remember things intentionally, it just happens. With the weirdness came the fun making, some of my friends made fun of me remembering I watched Titanic when I was 3 and how I cried so much when Jack died( one of my numerous memories from when I was 3).
Others wanted to forget, or even forgot the January 27th bomb blast of 2002 in Lagos, but I remember exactly how scared I was that day, where I was, the time I got home and the joke my senior made about the bombing the next day in school. Or forget the incessant bombings and killings happening in our country, it’s all in my head Oh, wait for the funny part, I remember the opening song of the 2002 world cup and the half naked lady that kept singing it, that messed with my mind for a while.
The memory was starting to feel like a plague, most especially when I wanted to forget the dates my beloved ones died. I want to forget the stupid things I did, or the mistakes I made, but they would never go away. When someone wrongs me and I say I’ve forgiven, the truth is I have forgiven, but I always remember what went wrong.
But then I think, some people would give anything to remember even their names (those with amnesia) and some want to forget their entire existence.
You might wonder why I have been yapping about memories. I told someone special that I wish there was a device I could use to erase my memories.  What he said to me made me think, he said, “our memories make us who we are, what we’ve gone through makes us stronger.” There’s a reason for everything. Those bad times that made you cry, those mistakes you made which makes you not to make them again, those good times that made you laugh. All of it makes you who you are. You remember your dead brother, so? Remember how beautiful he was too. You forgot your best friend’s birthday, call and apologize with a wonderful gift, you remember your boss’s son’s wedding anniversary, just call and send your good wishes, lol.
Cherish your memories, the ones you have now, sooner or later, that’s basically all we’ll have when we grow old. You never know what could happen. Make memories now with that person, eat chicken, travel the world, take pictures (capture the memories), smile, laugh, cry, play, pray. Paint your own pictures. Yes, some of us want to forget the killings happening but no, we remember the Plateau killings, it hurts, let’s pray for them, let’s pray for our country, let’s pray for peace. Don’t forget to get your PVC also. God bless Nigeria.

#Liv
#prayforplateau
#prayfornigeria