There are quiet a handful I can remember about childhood. I was one of those very naughty kids at home but with a low self esteem while at school. I had a 72 percent bitter childhood and 28 percent sweet one. The 28 percent are those daunting memories of self fulfilling mischievous acts and days of family outings and special meals.

I live in a rented storey building with my parents and big sister. Five rooms are built on each wing – facing each other, with a hallway that is often dark in. We only have two rooms to ourselves out of the twenty rooms in the compound. One serves as the living room and the other as the bedroom. The toilets and kitchen which we share with our neighbors are located at the rear end of the house where we call the backyard.

There are a lot of children, aunties and uncles in the compound. Evenings are always fun because we always gather outside to play – acting dramas and organizing little parties. I am the prettiest among the girls in the compound and the favourite of the aunties and uncles. I am often given the best role in drama and a preferential treatment.

Even at that I always was never contented with how loved I was, I always wanted to pick up traits from other children I believed was cool, the way they walked, how they styled their hair and clothes. I did not just believe I had anything worth loving. I never believe I have the best.

I complain about my Christmas clothes and shoes, telling my mum I want the type Mary, our neighbour has. I would grunt over meals my mum prepare, I prefer Mrs Kazeem meals I would say. Mrs Kazeem is our neighbour and my mum’s friend, I like the taste of ginger and garlic in her meals. So most times I eat at her house.

Most times, my mum will refuse me going to her house, forcing me to eat the food she had prepared. Instead I wail then run to Mrs Kazeem’s house who sometimes supports my mum to eat the food she had prepared.

I love the taste of freshly made meals. My meals must be well dished in a plate with no blemish. I hate left over rice. I would never taste yam, fish, meat, outer part of an egg or eba – not even if your promise me a bag of chocolate. The sight of bone keeps me at my heels, I don’t share my spoon with anyone, you shouldn’t pass your hand over my meal or sneeze or talk over my food. If we go on holidays to the village, I will not taste any food prepared, I stick with bananas. Because of my food phobia, I rarely ate and stuck with junks when I have refused a meal.

Hello Grammarians in the house, I am looking at writing a book. Kindly air your views on the writing style, your opinion will go a long way. Thanks a bunch!

Am not a grammarian as u call it, avn't written a book yet but am following

joanee20:
Am not a grammarian as u call it, avn't written a book yet but am following

Thank you

I think you are writing with the first person narrative, if so, try to follow it through. Your style of writing and usage of sentences can be improved on.

Akposb:
I think you are writing with the first person narrative, if so, try to follow it through. Your style of writing and usage of sentences can be improved on.

Thank you. I will work on that. I feel so too.

EnaStory:

Thank you

UWC dear

Nairalanders, say something. Views are increasing with no comments

Great story line. But I think the chapter is quite short

Interesting piece,work more on your tenses and usage of words in addition.

The tenses like @missmossy said is very important, try to keep it on track. As regards to your writing style, are you trying to write from the angle of a child? can't think of a better way to put it.