WILSON BABANGIDA'S SHORT STORY: GROWING UP AS THE LAST BORN CHILD OF FAMILY OF NINE IN A REMOTE COMMUNITY IN SONG LGA, ADAMAWA STATE.

 Growing up, there was a special time in my life when my daily routine revolved around caring for the animals we raised at home — chickens, goats, ducks, pigeons, and guinea fowls.

As the last born, I had the freedom to choose roles that I found fun and interesting, rather than those imposed. I cared for our animals like they were part of the family — especially my pigeons, who were my beloved pets. Losing any of them felt just as painful as losing a family member.

This pic depicts the kind of affection I had with pigeons in our home. I wish we had access to camera then...

My mother had a beautiful system — every animal in our home was registered in the name of one family member or another. Whenever she needed to sell any to meet family needs, she would consult the “owner,” negotiate kindly, and ensure the animal was replaced with a younger one soon after.

I took great pride in my duties. I would lead the goats to the grass areas of Bongo Rock, a few miles away from home, where they grazed freely on fresh grass. While they fed, I stood guard against predators like monkeys and snakes. I was their shepherd — they knew my voice, and they absolutely adored my mother’s. Every evening, the moment they heard her voice as she returned from the market, they would gather in the middle of our compound, bleating joyfully in expectation of treats and affection.

I even built and maintained a small “swimming pool” for the ducks, changing the water every morning to keep them fresh and happy. My only troublemakers were the guinea fowls ๐Ÿ˜„ — too fast for my liking and fond of laying their eggs far from home!

I carried out these roles with pride, love, and a deep sense of family belonging. But things changed when I moved to Kaduna, to live with my brother in the NDA Barracks. There, I was only allowed to keep pigeons, but it was never quite the same. The environment was different — public, shared, and without the warmth of home. That was how I gradually let go of my old routine and began to build new memories in the barracks.

Looking back, those were truly my days of little beginnings — the simple moments that shaped my sense of responsibility, care, and leadership.

Special thanks to my parents and guardian ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ™

W.B Agboti

Two eldest siblings were missing in this pic. Spot the young IBB *smiles* 


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