My romance with the red colour began at the age of 13 when I became a student at ECWA Secondary School in Mopa, Mopamuro Local Government Area of present Kogi State.

Students were bundled into houses – Green, Red, Blue and Yellow. I was placed in Red House, which was Molade House named after His Royal Majesty, King Orimolade, the then Elulu of Mopa.

Truth was, Red House never won any tournament as far as I recall when we were there at interhouse competitions, but I don’t know any house that is as proud of its colour as we were.

It is great to find myself in Maple Leaf Country where the red colour is on the flag and everything official, including of course, it’s flagship coffee chain, Tim Hortons.

While in Kano as a young boy, I used to have a red day – Friday, a day in which I was clad in all red – beret, t-shirt, trouser and even tennis shoes (sneakers). Sadly I don’t think I have pictures of me back then since we didn’t have access to pictures as easily as we all do today.

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I believe that most of the habits we get stuck with as adults are influenced by the culture of our childhood experiences. Maybe if I was in any other house in ESSMO, I could have loved its colours as much as I love red till date.

There’s always red around me, from face caps to flower pots, plastic bags to old model telephones and the Canadian flag. I am a red kind of person.

Okay, this is just a rant because somebody gave me a long holiday and I didn’t plan well ahead to travel with it and I am sitting at home sipping half coffee and half French vanilla while waiting for my lamb ribs to cook on the pressure pot.

If I was born in Canada under millennial classification, I could have been called a girl trapped in a boy’s body. That would have been a misclassification because you all know that I love women, eh? I am glad such concepts didn’t exist back then.

Okay, this is just a rant because somebody gave me a long holiday and I didn’t plan well ahead to travel with it and I am sitting at home sipping half coffee and half French vanilla while waiting for my lamb ribs to cook on the pressure pot.

Hope you all are enjoying your holidays wherever you are. Enjoy life ó, that handsome man was out to celebrate his wife’s 60th when he slumped and died. The Pope was wheeled out on Sunday to bless his supporters but died Monday morning. This life ba, is worth nothing and guarantees nothing except death.

Even the heaven and hell that new religion preaches is not guaranteed. As one guru said – how are you sure you are not already in heaven right now and messing it all up? All the holier-than-thou of the universe don’t want to die, even when they delude themselves that they are going to a better place. As the Great Zik of Africa once said after reading his own obituary three times – I am in love with this planet that I’m in; I’m not in a hurry to go to the next one (if he had a say in it).

Happy Holidays folks. May your rice cook well and your roasted chicken not get burnt in this Bulabic economy. Tinubu no send you ó. If you like shout from now till yesterday, the man dey enjoy life for Paris, àbí na London?

The post EXTRA: My romance with Colour Red, By Asaju Tunde appeared first on Frontpageng.