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THE SHOE THAT MADE ME STRONG

Creative 18 hrs ago
  • User
    Uwanzy
    18 hrs ago

    Hey guys 👋🏼 

    Finally it's chapter 2b 🔥

     

    CHAPTER 2b: Me & My Old Mama Shoe 👞❤️

     

    I don’t know who needs to hear this, but some of us really had emotional connections with our shoes growing up. Me especially. This story is about one particular pair — the one that walked with me through thick and thin. 😌

     

    I was probably 8 or 9, short like Milo pack.

    Then one day… boom! Mummy bought this very thick, solid leather shoe. I don't even remember the occasion o, but deep in my spirit, I know it was mummy that bought it — because only she fit buy us shoe we didn’t ask for but somehow grew to love. 😂

     

    At first glance, that shoe didn’t look like much — in fact, it looked like it had seen things. Ancient. Unshakable. Like it fought in the Biafran war and survived. But me? I fell in love. The moment I wore it, I felt seen — like ah ah, so this is how it feels to matter?

    Because me wey be fourth born, aka “invisible child”, anything that gave me attention was a blessing. And this shoe? It added like 2 inches to my height — what else could a short girl ask for? 😭

     

    From that day on, me and that shoe became inseparable. Church? Worn. Wedding? Worn. Going to buy Maggi? E for be worn if not for slippers. Honestly, if not for those brown school sandals, I for wear am go school join. 😂

     

    I even have this picture I took with the shoe — kai, the outfit and the shoe had no business being in the same frame, but love is blind na. I was in this cute little dress and my faithful “old mama shoe” was just there gbum-gbum-gbuming along. No regrets.

     

    Now let me not lie — my siblings suffered. Especially my immediate elder sister (the original Gen Z of the family). She said my shoe always reduced her “steeze”. She’d be like:

     

    > “Unwana abeg, you and this your grandma shoe again? You wan spoil our drip?”

     

    But I no send. Na their wahala be that. 😂

    In fact, I’m convinced people at church expected me and that shoe every Sunday. It had this way of sounding when I walked like kon kon kon when it was happy, or gbum gbum when it was tired of my waka. A whole percussion instrument.

     

    Did it match my clothes? Not really.

    Did I care? Not at all. 😎

    Did anyone dare to steal it? Dem no born them well. That shoe had presence.

     

    But as life would have it… I outgrew it. 😭

    One day, I looked down and realized my foot had betrayed me. Puberty came in like “thank you for your service”, and my leg got longer. The shoe didn’t fall apart, it didn’t tear — it just watched me grow and quietly accepted its retirement.

     

    Did I throw it away? Never. I kept it for years until it just mysteriously disappeared from the house. But even in retirement, that shoe remained stronger and finer than many of my other shoes. Loyalty 101.

     

    From that shoe, I learned strength, resilience, and how to walk loud and proud even when your fashion sense dey question mark. 😂❤️

     

    So yeah… shout out to my old mama shoe.

    You were my first love. You never judged me. And most importantly — you made me feel tall. 😌

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