Every child wanted one, and so did I. There was this aura around the all-star shoes especially when you were in your sportswear. Once your ankle socks were covered by the high neck of the shoe, and your sports shirt was tucked into your shorts, there was no glance you wouldn't steal and no compliment you wouldn't enjoy.
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I stared longingly at the white and black version of the shoe that my neighbor, Mary-Jane, was putting on that Wednesday morning and wished my mother would just come out of the house so I could show her the shoe. It was a new one and because of that the colors were still new and shiny.
My mother came out of the house briefly to check if I was with the key to her office when she confirmed that it was in her handbag which was hanging on my shoulder, she made to go back in but I stopped her on impulse.
"Mummy, I want that shoe"
She peeped at Mary-Jane's legs, laughed and shook her head, then proceeded back inside the house. A couple of days later when I returned home from school, my siblings called me to say that they saw a pair of all-star sneakers sitting on the dining table. I rushed out excitedly to see if it was true but before I got there, my mom called me to her room and handed one to me. It was completely white and even more attractive than Mary-Jane's pair.
I was so excited.
I almost couldn't sleep that entire week till it was Wednesday and I got to wear the shoe to school. Every time someone stared at me, I followed their eyes and it was focused on my white all-stars. My chest swelled with pride, my walking step changed completely.
Eventually, when I left primary school, the All Stars had changed from its shiny white to a dull shade of brown so I didn't want to wear it any longer.
The next fad I embraced was that of the famous hand accessory known as Shambala.
I had a friend in my secondary school who used to weave different threads together to form colorful bracelets. She would even insert beads that had letters on them so she could customize a customer's order with their names or nicknames.
I used to wish I owned a Shambala but since she sold one of them for 150 naira, and that was my snack money for 3 days, I decided not to get one for myself.
During visiting on one of those days, my siblings came to visit me and I was really excited to see them because it was the first time they were coming alone. We were watching one of the movies that my mother sent to my sister for me when my friend, Deborah, who weaved shambalas, walked up to us.
During visits, friends and classmates usually branched at the stand of other people to meet with the guardians and also get something for themselves; food, snacks, and sometimes, money.
I introduced her to my siblings and told them that she weaved shambalas.
"So how come you don't own a Shambala when your friend weaves one?" My older sister asked, I lifted my shoulders in a shrug.
"I don't have the money to get one"
"You don't have 150!" My sister opened her mouth in surprise.
"What? Don't you know that here in boarding school we spend on a budget? Even if you have a thousand naira you cannot spend it carelessly, except it is just a few days to vacation"
Deborah concurred with my story. The only time one could truly spend in a boarding school was when it was a couple of days to go back home.
There and then my sister took out some money and gave it to Deborah to make a Shambala for me. I chose the colors and asked her to write Baby T with the beads on it.
By the following weekend, I too had a Shambala with my nickname inscribed on it.
Then there were the Caribbean skirts which I fought with my older sister just to have.
Growing up, my mom used to bring a lady who sold thrifts to the house so we could pick the clothes we wanted by ourselves. This was basically when she had enough money to spare so it didn't happen all the time. On one of those days, the lady came to the house and I spotted something I had always wanted. Just as I snaked my arm to get it, another hand pulled it up and handed it to my mother.
"Mummy, I want this Caribbean skirt," my older sister said.
Instantly, I grabbed the skirt and told my mother that I saw it first and I wanted it too. My sister already had two Caribbean skirts so my mother bought that one for me, and it wasn't even my size.
My sister did not speak to me for a couple of days because of that but I didn't mind because I too could now walk around with the flare of my skirts dancing around my knees
