Deja Vu
Daniel Okebalama@danielokebalama185573
10 months ago
#NircleStories
"Mom," Kachi inquired, eyes wide with curiosity, as his mother deftly buttoned his school shirt, "what exactly is deja vu?" She paused, sharing a gentle smile with her inquisitive son. "Remember when you rewatched an episode of 'Henry Danger' that you'd already seen? Did anything seem different?" Kachi shook his head, recalling the unchanged scenes. "Well," she explained, "deja vu is like experiencing that feeling in real life."
With a hint of amusement, Kachi pondered aloud, "Is it like how I always see you, right here, every morning, in my room, fastening these buttons?" His mother chuckled softly, affectionately patting his head. "You truly are a bright young boy," she remarked, before reaching for his hairbrush to ensure he looked his best. The distant wail of the school bus horn signaled their impending departure. She gently kissed his forehead and guided him toward the stairs.
Despite being just eight, Kachi possessed a vibrant imagination, a precious gift that many adults had lost amidst the routines and challenges of life. He often observed the world with wonder, noticing the subtle nuances of his parents' expressions—the weariness in his mother's eyes or the stress evident on his father's brow upon returning home from work. Yet, Kachi's spirit remained undaunted, full of dreams and aspirations. To him, life was an endless tapestry of adventures waiting to be explored.
His insatiable curiosity knew no bounds. Whether it was questioning the peculiarities of an egg yolk or the age of Nigeria's President, Kachi sought answers with unbridled enthusiasm. Once he learned something new, he eagerly shared his discoveries, engaging even their household help with his relentless barrage of questions.
In the classroom, as Kachi mechanically transcribed notes, his mind often wandered to far-off places. Today was no exception until Miss Sherifat's voice snapped him back to reality. "Can anyone tell me what an adverb is?" she queried. Swiftly raising his hand, Kachi prepared to respond when, suddenly, a loud sneeze echoed through the room. A startled Miss Sherifat was left with an unfortunate stain on her dress. A sense of déjà vu washed over Kachi; he distinctly remembered witnessing this exact scenario before—the same teacher, the same dress, the same sneeze. Suppressing a grin, he mused aloud, "I should tell my mom about this."
Caught in the moment, Miss Sherifat's puzzled gaze met Kachi's.
