My heart was troubled. I had tried for days to figure out what was wrong and why insomnia was gradually kicking in. I didn’t even sleep. Not in a while.

5:00 am had me eyes wide open and restless. Lord may this Easter be great, I sighed.

I finally closed my eyes at 6:20am. I slept for like a second when my eyes flew open again. It was 7:00 already. I had to do the market runs. The Easter celebration demanded lots of cooking in my family; my cousins and extended family members were coming over. I rolled out of bed with heavy eyes. Ran a quick bath, got the list from mum, and headed straight to the market.

P.S I hated market places.

No thanks to the muddy grounds, improperly disposed waste, noise, hooligans making trouble, and more unpleasant occurrences. I summoned courage and walked to the pepper store. After beating down prices to a scary number, the Mallam finally sold the tomatoes and tatase to me.

The funny thing about mum’s list was this: If she pegged a N200 price to an item, you’d find it at N350. The bigger problem was, you had to “use your brain” as she would say, to beat the price down and buy it for N150. Yea, Mothers do the most.

The past few days didn’t even have me in the best moods. I feared for a bit that I was going to fall into depression, bless God i didn’t. I sulked. Cried. Prayed. Hoped. Still hoped. Reminisced the good old days. Longed for better days. And all that kept my eyes from sleep. I hated myself. The market run made it worse.

I left the pepper store and searched for onions. Found them and even at a lesser price. I smiled, Mum would be pleased. Or I should just buy ice cream with the change? I’ll buy ice cream. She won’t know. At least it was my pricing skills that got me the spare change.

Mum wanted fresh green peas and carrots. She said the canned ones were already over cooked and so they won’t look great when garnishing the fried rice. I wanted to object…. durrrrrrrrh! I’m the one cooking it… when last did you enter the kitchen? Let alone cook? My brain had told me to keep my mouth shut and not object. I got the other items on the list. Only one left; A LIVE CHICKEN!!!!!!

I dreaded the sight of blood. I could easily crush a cockroach to death. I’d run so far if a rat chased me….. How then do I survive killing a chicken!!!! My kid brother didn’t care whatever went on in the kitchen, only, what comes out of it. He won’t help me.

What happened to frozen foods dear Lord? I sighed again. Finding my way to the part of the market where live chickens were sold, I priced and priced till I was scared the store owner would chase me away with a stick. I needed to add meat pie to that Ice cream by “using my brain”.

After settling the bill and grudgingly carrying the live bird, I wondered how I was going to survive killing it. I remembered the first step was to hold the chicken down and then cut off the neck. But what if the chicken gets up and runs after me? I’d drop dead if I had a headless chicken chasing me. Can’t do it.

Should I just throw it into boiling water? The heat would kill it and I won’t have to see the blood…. No. I might end up having nightmares. Can’t do it.

I’m not a vegetarian and I don’t do the “animal lives matter” campaign, but all is sacred and things had to be done in the right order. Therefore the chicken had to be killed the right way. That is, spilling the blood into the ground. Maybe I’d do a little fasting and pray fervently after killing it so I won’t have nightmares.

Perhaps I was lost in thought for a long while, because the woman looked at me and asked if the butchers at the store could help me kill the bird and skin it at a very cheap price.

Jesus is risen!!!!!!! My joy was beyond understanding. She could name whatever price, I was well ready to pay!

She went in to call the “butchers”. Lo and behold, butcher 1 and butcher 2 were little girls!!!!!! No more no less than the 10/12 age range. I swallowed hard. These kids? Do they even know what puberty is?

I watched in horror as butcher 1 did her thing. With much skill exercised, she slaughtered the bird and dropped it into the boiling water. Butcher 2 skinned the chicken and chopped it gracefully. I was amazed.

My depression faded.

I thought of the Easter and all its significance. I thought of the cross. I thought of Jesus. I thought of redemption. I thought of Grace. I thought of my past. I thought of my indecisions. I thought of my future. I thought of my friends.

Lex was at her granny’s. Ruthie was at her parent’s. Mary was occupied with school work, and me? Well, here I am… watching kids slaughtering a chicken.

They packed the meat carefully into a bag and handed it to me. At least I won’t have headless chickens running after me. I didn’t do anything.

Anyway… I had more than enough and I wouldn’t have any explaining to do when I got home. I walked happily into a nearby eatery and got myself a meat pie and chocolate ice cream. I deserved the treat! Don’t ask me why!

At least I had to watch two kids kill a chicken. So it was a well-deserved treat as I licked my ice cream and walked home.

Happy Easter!

Well scripted story!

You'll make a good writer.

Aunty mention me next time

Interesting

Thank you very much. Grateful

Ann2012:
Interesting

frbona:
Aunty mention me next time

Veronica617:
My heart was troubled. I had tried for days to figure out what was wrong and why insomnia was gradually kicking in. I didn’t even sleep. Not in a while.

5:00 am had me eyes wide open and restless. Lord may this Easter be great, I sighed.

I finally closed my eyes at 6:20am. I slept for like a second when my eyes flew open again. It was 7:00 already. I had to do the market runs. The Easter celebration demanded lots of cooking in my family; my cousins and extended family members were coming over. I rolled out of bed with heavy eyes. Ran a quick bath, got the list from mum, and headed straight to the market.

P.S I hated market places.

No thanks to the muddy grounds, improperly disposed waste, noise, hooligans making trouble, and more unpleasant occurrences. I summoned courage and walked to the pepper store. After beating down prices to a scary number, the Mallam finally sold the tomatoes and tatase to me.

The funny thing about mum’s list was this: If she pegged a N200 price to an item, you’d find it at N350. The bigger problem was, you had to “use your brain” as she would say, to beat the price down and buy it for N150. Yea, Mothers do the most.

The past few days didn’t even have me in the best moods. I feared for a bit that I was going to fall into depression, bless God i didn’t. I sulked. Cried. Prayed. Hoped. Still hoped. Reminisced the good old days. Longed for better days. And all that kept my eyes from sleep. I hated myself. The market run made it worse.

I left the pepper store and searched for onions. Found them and even at a lesser price. I smiled, Mum would be pleased. Or I should just buy ice cream with the change? I’ll buy ice cream. She won’t know. At least it was my pricing skills that got me the spare change.

Mum wanted fresh green peas and carrots. She said the canned ones were already over cooked and so they won’t look great when garnishing the fried rice. I wanted to object…. durrrrrrrrh! I’m the one cooking it… when last did you enter the kitchen? Let alone cook? My brain had told me to keep my mouth shut and not object. I got the other items on the list. Only one left; A LIVE CHICKEN!!!!!!

I dreaded the sight of blood. I could easily crush a cockroach to death. I’d run so far if a rat chased me….. How then do I survive killing a chicken!!!! My kid brother didn’t care whatever went on in the kitchen, only, what comes out of it. He won’t help me.

What happened to frozen foods dear Lord? I sighed again. Finding my way to the part of the market where live chickens were sold, I priced and priced till I was scared the store owner would chase me away with a stick. I needed to add meat pie to that Ice cream by “using my brain”.

After settling the bill and grudgingly carrying the live bird, I wondered how I was going to survive killing it. I remembered the first step was to hold the chicken down and then cut off the neck. But what if the chicken gets up and runs after me? I’d drop dead if I had a headless chicken chasing me. Can’t do it.

Should I just throw it into boiling water? The heat would kill it and I won’t have to see the blood…. No. I might end up having nightmares. Can’t do it.

I’m not a vegetarian and I don’t do the “animal lives matter” campaign, but all is sacred and things had to be done in the right order. Therefore the chicken had to be killed the right way. That is, spilling the blood into the ground. Maybe I’d do a little fasting and pray fervently after killing it so I won’t have nightmares.

Perhaps I was lost in thought for a long while, because the woman looked at me and asked if the butchers at the store could help me kill the bird and skin it at a very cheap price.

Jesus is risen!!!!!!! My joy was beyond understanding. She could name whatever price, I was well ready to pay!

She went in to call the “butchers”. Lo and behold, butcher 1 and butcher 2 were little girls!!!!!! No more no less than the 10/12 age range. I swallowed hard. These kids? Do they even know what puberty is?

I watched in horror as butcher 1 did her thing. With much skill exercised, she slaughtered the bird and dropped it into the boiling water. Butcher 2 skinned the chicken and chopped it gracefully. I was amazed.

My depression faded.

I thought of the Easter and all its significance. I thought of the cross. I thought of Jesus. I thought of redemption. I thought of Grace. I thought of my past. I thought of my indecisions. I thought of my future. I thought of my friends.

Lex was at her granny’s. Ruthie was at her parent’s. Mary was occupied with school work, and me? Well, here I am… watching kids slaughtering a chicken.

They packed the meat carefully into a bag and handed it to me. At least I won’t have headless chickens running after me. I didn’t do anything.

Anyway… I had more than enough and I wouldn’t have any explaining to do when I got home. I walked happily into a nearby eatery and got myself a meat pie and chocolate ice cream. I deserved the treat! Don’t ask me why!

At least I had to watch two kids kill a chicken. So it was a well-deserved treat as I licked my ice cream and walked home.

Happy Easter!