₦airaland Forum

Evidence1000:
Make I book space first
This your epistle is too long nau. On top that, you are even lying on top. Was yesterday your own Friday ?

it's not something that happened this week

The day began in a somewhat different way from any other Saturday. Trying to compensate for the weekdays’ early morning awakening has been a constant feature of my Saturdays meaning I don’t wake up till 8 or 9. More like I don’t ‘wake’ myself up anyways. I take a second round ‘forty winks’ anytime I wake up earlier. But this Saturday is different. I had gone for a vigil on Friday and came home very early in the morning and so by nature’s default and by my circadian calculation, my precious time must just be prolonged and prolonged well….to say 2 or 3 p.m. That’s too much? Have you ever gone to a vigil where every attempt to take a nap during preaching is frustrated by a tap from an usher? It seemed a camera has been trained on me and all the ushers seemed to have the monitor fixed somewhere along their visual lines. At a point, I held the bible as if I was reading it, all in a hoax. I must have barely closed my eyes before the tap on my shoulder came, this time from one of the male ushers…a muscular one. Either this guy doesn't know the difference between a tap and a blow or he doesn't attend the ushers’ meetings or both. At this point, I got frustrated but what can I do. I thought of throwing a punch at his stupid ugly face back but then, the vigil might turn into a deliverance session and my humble self might be the subject to be delivered. So, I better keep my calm. I struggled to stay awake. The preacher was rounding up. The revival songs that followed the preaching rescued me from my "usherophobic" travails. You must be exceptionally deaf from birth not to be wide awake during that session of songs. And so, now you’ll agree with me that waking up by 2 or 3 p.m, after self and induced sleep denial, is not much of a bad idea.
Sadly, I woke up around 9 a.m…upset! I thought my usher friend has found his way into my room…but I was alone and i felt relieved but i need to push my wake up time forward. All attempts to close my eyes for the second round was exercised and in sheer futility. I was watching a movie before I went for vigil so I decided to finish the movie before starting the day since sleep has denied it’s second coming .I didn't know the sons of Adam were walking towards their switch box somewhere in PHCN office. We seemed to be working in hand in hand. Switching on my laptop coincided with the sound of my ceiling fan changing. It decelerated with an increasingly louder sound as if shaking its head for me and saying sorry. I wish I could get my usher friend down to NEPA office and whack the double ‘s’ off the perpetrator’s a**. Well, now that I’m fully awake, I better get to the day’s business.
Sorry, I forgot to mention that I cooked ‘Egusi’ soup before I started watching my movie on Friday. I had gone to the market after that day’s work. Dad just sent money and as usual, a special soup (not necessary delicious) greets the arrival of credit alerts in my phone. I didn’t know ‘Panla’ fish is now so expensive. But there’s money, so that won’t be a problem. Two big ‘kote’ fish won’t be bad since I would be dicing the ‘panla’. I’ll dice the ponmo too and the crayfish won’t have much fill in my mouth. I got all my ingredients; ground the pepper before going home. Yeah, I bought beans too. That should be the most expensive foodstuff on this planet now. One grain should be about N1, I bet. There can’t be more than 600 ‘sane’ seeds of bean in that bowl they call ‘congo’. Thank God I still have Garri and rice. Abridging a lengthy story, I got home and cooked something that would make the inventor of soup turn in HER grave with joy. (I used ‘her’ deliberately). That should be the first time I’m cooking such a delicious soup. Before now, either it’s too watery or pepper is too much or salt is too much. There was even a time a friend of mine asked if I cooked the soup with salt or I cooked the salt with ground pepper. But tasting my soup now, I feel so fulfilled. You know that feeling you get when your female neighbors hail the aroma of your soup. I couldn't eat because I was getting late for the vigil. Making rice or Eba would be a bad idea. I’ll just get something on my way. I ironed my cloth while I start to watch a movie-BATTLESHIP-simultaneously. I shut my system when I finished ironing, wore my shirt and off to church, I went. I bought gala and La Casera on my way. (Remember I said there’s money.)
So the day’s business should start since PHCN won’t let me complete my movie. I’ve got cloths to wash. My soup was in my mind but I didn’t want to eat it alone(more like I need a witness to this soup) so before I start to wash, I called one of my female friends to come over to eat but with a proviso that I’m going to make Eba. While washing, one of my neighbors who hailed me when I was cooking came to my place. She insisted she must taste out of it. I learnt ladies like guys who can cook. I've been so lucky she didn't come in the previous days i felt so elated cos i've had my eyes on her for a while anyway so this might be an opportunity to display my cooking prowess. I told her I’ll bring it to her room with Eba in about an hour’s time. By the time I finished washing, my friend was around. I had started salivating by this time too. After hanging my cloth on the line, I boiled water, poured the Garri but before I stir, I should warm my long-awaited and long-desired soup .
I opened the lid to savor it’s aroma in preparation for its impending consumption and then, I saw something I didn't notice when I was cooking it. I’m not a very observant person anyway. The first thought that struck me was that the woman I bought crayfish and other ingredients from was generous enough to put one of her giant prawns as ‘jara’. It must have been in appreciation of all the stuffs I bought from her. As I made to cover the pot, something moved. It was the big prawn. For the first time in my life, I saw a cockroach that is not scared of man. It stood for a while and swerved it’s antennae round as if to say who’s the intruder into my ‘parry’. The 5 stages of grief, save the third, took their turn in quick succession in me. When I came back to reality, I had not many options. Do I kill the motherfucking daughter of the periplaneta family now lying asked one of the fish’s head and pour the whole stuff away? But here’s my visitor playing with her phone. What do I tell her? What do I tell my neighbor who has gone to her room and probably cancelled any plan she has to cook, since I’ve agreed to bring food to her doorstep. Another option I have is to scoop away a reasonable circumference of soup around this little beast away and serve my guest and neighbor. I’ll eat something else later. But that will make me no different from the ‘murderers and arsonists’ of ALUU. I’ll not give what I can’t eat to another person to eat. The other option is to go buy pure water and groundnut and take garri. It’s close to Eba, isn’t it? Afterall, either I eat pounded yam or yam, the most important thing is that I eat something ‘yammy’. But how do I explain to my would-be consumers of my erstwhile delicious Egusi soup. The last option is what I’m doing. To drop the pot, come online and seek an advice.