Sports Day or rather circus day

I really don’t know what it was. But we all stayed standing in the hot sun cheering! We looked like we had been glued to our positions. Or like we were being paid to be extras in some movie.
The higher the sun rose, the more we cheered on. When our throats got dry, we opened our big bags and drunk so more water...or quickly ran to the water seller under the big jackfruit tree and bought a cold soda!
It simply was magic and fun watching as adults in all colours and sizes screamed and clapped their hands as they cheered on their children, grand children, nephews, nieces or possibly neighbours or friend’s children on the track field.

The place was Daffodils Nursery Academy track field. The event: The annual sports day.Children all under 6 years were competing in what I think was track and field. Because from the programme I could see, relay, going to school race, ball picking race..and so many ridiculous names.
Competition it was promised was going to be tight after all, these children had been practicing for about a month.

On Saturday as we dropped them off to the field at 8am clad in tshirts of different colours to reflect their different houses. I thought to myself there was going to be WAR!! The children looked mean and tough…they were only short of painting their faces with black ink…but no.. wait a minute...these are black kids, so they don’t need black oil :) .

Ok, I take that back…been watching too many movies :)

Anyway, I should have guessed from the way they sang both the school anthem that it was far from a competition .

The games begun and like I have rightly, put it, they were games. The children run slower than tortoises and were more confused than a maze!! It was amusing the way, they crisscrossed lanes but still managed to be crowned as winners in the various categories.

My nephew and niece were placed in the same race named " Go to school". The plot was easy...run pick up a backpack from the ground, place in the container that was lined next to it and then make off to the finishing line. I saw their teacher turned "coach" give each of them lat minute instructions and my excitement grew! Now this was it...world class competition. Was about to grab the microphone from the announcer and say : " ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for. Now seat back and watch this world class act.And for those with kids in this competition, all I can say is : Watch as they swallow the dust"

Jared second from the right and Jasmine third from the left

My nephew started off well, picked his pack, run to the container...all the time, I was screaming...go, go, go , go Jared! But then what does he do. As soon as he zipped the bag, he waited on for his (slow) sister to finish the process. He could have been the first, but no, Jared waited till his sister finished then they run together. I didnt know whether to cheer on or cry:)Well atleast they came in 3 and 4 out of 8.

By this time, all the adults were in a frenzy cheering . I guess this noise is what pissed off some children who then decided demanding for “mummy” and “ daddy”. As the sun rose higher, announcements like “Will the parent of x please come for him/her” were more common than the soap bubbles being blown by the older kids standing at the sidelines.
The future Usain Bolts, Asafa Powell, or Florence Griffith-Joyners were no longer amused by the different t shirt colours and caps that their parents had put on to match theirs. They had played and were tired. Period!
I stopped watching the track and I enjoyed as other parents were called to pick their rebellious little ones. The kids clamped on to their parent’s legs and were soon starting a screaming or should I say lung exercising competition. Which I guess would have overpowered the set activities. I watched in amusement and openly showed it until my nephew joined the rebellious list.
From then, thanks to my nephew and several others’ cry babies the house colour I was cheering, we made it first from the bottom!