Our roads are narrow. They are not only used for driving cars upon, but also for playing cricket, football or basketball.
In the 1960s and 70s or so, these roads were used for the playing of dog-and-bone, pee-wit, rounders, skip-rope, dodging-hoop and racing matchsticks in the drains that ran along the edges of the sidewalks right after the rain had poured out of the heavens. Little Boys back then genuinely believed that match sticks, swept along by the overflowing drains, were moving fast because of our doing. To our minds, the matchsticks were speedboats, and we were sure that bending our bodies close to them, shouting at them there in the drain as the water swept them along, really determined which of our matchsticks was the fastest of them all.
Today the roads are dangerous, not just at their crossings, but the blows they cause some children to receive especially from the women living near these narrow streets which children, like skipping deer, must cross, and being children will wish to play.
A child ran across one of these roads today. He did not see the vehicle approaching the corner, and he, in exciting energy, forgot about the dangerous road and simply flew across.
The driver, always anticipating danger in areas where narrow roads, small villages and vehicular traffic kiss, he stopped. But the woman accompanying him, perhaps his sister, aunt or mother saw it all, and instead of being happy that the child was not struck by the car, proceeded to rain fists-full of blows upon his little head,his back, and his bottom, because he tried to cross the road and did not look for traffic. These women are so shocked by this, their fists automatically rain down blows upon small torsos.
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