Play during infancy: clap for the baby lizard

Wanting nothing to do with the laziness of the other children, Chijioke decided to go into the bush. It was a small yam bush behind the wall in the backyard of his family’s house. If his parents, especially his father Idoh, had seen him, they would have berated him or even used the long whip, which Idoh loved to hide behind his broad back, to threaten the life of the newly planted yam tubers. But when Chijioke made up his mind, no one could find him to stop him.

Why did he go to the mountains? The other children wondered. Idoh would cry like crazy if she found him trampling the mounds of earth from which the yams would sprout in a few months. The children suspected that Chijioke would come up with something. It had a path with the bush. You could date an aged brown wingless grasshopper or a fat, cheesy cricket or a long-armed green praying mantis. Since none of the children were in a hurry, they waited.

Chijioke could stay in that bush until nightfall, said the stuttering boy. Before others could digest the dire prediction of the stutterer, another boy, the one named Otubo (because he had a large umbilical hernia) caught a glimpse of Chijioke on the edge of the bush. His gaze fell on the creature Chijioke held between his right fingers. “Lizard, a baby lizard!” Otubo cried for everyone to hear him. At the announcement of the capture, all the children paid close attention. Many more children came from nearby houses, even those too young to do more than crawl.

“There is no escape,” said one of the children to the lizard as he writhed in midair. Chijioke held it a little firmly. In the open space in the front yard of the family home, the children, eleven in all, including a pair of crawlers, knelt and formed a circle.

Gently, Chijioke placed the baby lizard on the sandy ground. All the children looked at him with sympathy and enthusiasm. It was a gray-skinned lizard, with a flat belly and a triangular-shaped head, which it held half an inch off the ground. “Chijioke took you away from your mom,” a voice managed to say, but the other children did not listen or respond.

Hours ago, the sun had set, and although the ground was hot, it was not unbearable, which made the lizard’s flat belly warm a bit, enough to irritate it, but not causing harm. None of the children wanted the little creature to suffer. They considered him as vulnerable as the two children crawling between them. If their bare knees could withstand the gentle heat of the sandy ground, so could the baby lizard, they thought.

For a time, seeing all these children, the lizard was in shock and could not move. Then he regained some confidence and started looking at them, no doubt judging if they were distracted.

“Look what he’s going to do,” said a three-year-old boy. “He is preparing to escape,” predicted another. “Let’s pretend we’re not here,” said a third child. Then there was silence among the children. It wouldn’t be fun if the lizard didn’t run. The children wanted him to run so they could apprehend him and bring him back to the center of the circle.

They were preparing to grumble, to condemn the baby lizard as a weak and sick creature, when he suddenly ran across the ring, under the leg of one of the crawlers. Some of the children flew to escape. Others tried to grab it with their hands. Zigzagging, the lizard passed under the legs of several of the children and behind Otubo. A quick turn and a sprint from Chijioke captured the lizard and placed it back in the center of the circle.

A song broke out, “Clap for the lizard baby, – wandering— join your hands for the young lizard, wandering— the baby lizard who skipped the hike, but became an expert runner instead, wandering — pee pee, wandering, pee-haaa, wandering, haaa pee, wandering. “

During the song, some children got up from kneeling to dance, hopping on one leg and alternate legs, and lifting their body in the air, while another group of children watched the lizard to make sure it didn’t escape, just trying. to do it, so they could catch him and sing the song and dance and play, over and over again.

We didn’t know why we played so much, but we did; I played a lot as a child in my hometown of Akokwa, Nigeria. Now we know. Playing during childhood has an evolutionary origin and is essential for the proper development of the mind and body (Bjorklund and Pellegrini, 2000).

Reference

Bjorklund, DF and Pellegrini, AD (2000). Child development and evolutionary psychology. Child Development, 71 (6), 1687-1708. doi: 10.1111 / 1467-8624.00258.