Becoming an adult is no work in the park and with time we all realize that adulthood is not the perfect escape from the unfair world we thought it was and wished to become as kids. As we grow older, it becomes very obvious that society seems to attach true happiness with financial buoyancy and living in a third world country pushes individuals to place Mormon over humanity. It is never easy being a part of a community where your voice doesn't matter, your laughter sounds like noise pollution and your existence -worthless until you are contributing to your surroundings financially which has pushed a lot of youths into illegal activities. But despite the massive emphasis placed on wealth, I've realized with time that there are moments in my life when I was genuinely happy with zero funds in my possession. I remember every single detail of these peculiar events even after years of occurrence. Maybe it's because I have nothing else to hold on to besides the memories back then or hunger is just that good a drug against memory loss馃ぃ馃ぃ馃ぃ. Days like these are filled with laughter, smiling faces, zero worries and a getaway card from pain. Till this day, one of my top five happiest moments had nothing to do with academic, emotional or financial success, it was just down right humorous so allow me to put y'all up on game.
A distant cousin from my father's part of the family was admitted into my school during my final session and since he got in late, we all just agreed he should squat with us ( my roommate & I) until we eventually leave. Now it was no secret I was a terrible cook so my roommate was by default the head of cooking duties with myself serving as the emergency substitution so when I cook nobody expects it to taste good ( I stayed in a lodge where everybody eats from everybody). My cousin was a mouthful and would never hesitate to tell me just how terrible the food was and on this particular Wednesday, I made noodles for the both of us in a haste as I was already late for class. The food was good but this guy just loved talking down on my cooking skills so he told me after eating, he had to brush his teeth again just so he could get the horrible taste out of his mouth- that legit hurt but I just laughed it off saying we will be tasting his handiwork soon and he better be good else his ridicules only makes him a hypocrite. Little did we know that we were going to taste the results Joe's magic hands earlier than we thought.
That very day, my roommate and I had a very long and stressful lecture, got back home late and too tired to cook. Remembering my cousin always bragged about cooking for his mother, we suggested he takes charge of the kitchen which he agreed to without hesitation. Joe( my cousin) said he was preparing spaghetti (pasta) and we all agreed that it was the best option because of time. While he was preparing the dish, I stepped outside to run a personal errand hoping the food would be ready before I get back and also get something cold for myself and the boys to balance the equation. When I came back I met the entire occupants of my lodge sitting outside their rooms quiet, watching me close the gate without uttering a word which was so unlike their ever chatty nature but because of how hungry I was I paid no mind to them. I walked directly to the pot, opened it only to discover it still filled with noodles but I didn't care. I just scooped out a reasonable amount for my plate and because of the heat I rushed outside to eat only to be met with the same staring eyes of my lodge mate silently waiting for me to eat. The moment the first fork of noodles found its way inside my mouth, the entire lodge returned to its normal setting- massive uproar of laughter, they were all waiting for the sour look on my face .
Never have I ever tasted something so terrible in my entire life. The taste of the meal was so difficult to explain because everything was wrong with it, the spices tasted raw, there was too much salt, the spaghetti self no even done. After much interrogation we got to realize that he used four sachet tomatoes and almost a bottle of groundnut oil (I am not exaggerating) to cook one spaghetti ( kilode). To make matters worse one of our neighbors was observing the annual Muslim fast was hoping to conclude the fast for the day with that meal and after just a few spoons, he returned the rest of the noodles back into the pot opting to take bread, groundnut and soda instead.
My cousin could barely stand outside that evening as he was the topic for that whole night. When we asked him if he had ever been in the kitchen before, his response was "Yes na me way be chef". The entire lodge pounced on him with words again, how bad can you get in the kitchen that would make the collective stomach of 15 people unable to finish one spaghetti. Nobody slept that night, we all jeered at him whenever our stomach quaked and if he tries falling asleep, I would personally wake him up just so we can laugh at the mess he made even more. Joe himself could not finish that meal and since he has a policy against wasting food he was forced to eat it alone. The spaghetti took him two more days to finish despite complementing it with garri while his biggest supporters cheered him on from the sidelines.
After that incident we begged Joe never to go near any cooking equipment even if it's boiling water as he might contaminate it in the process and till this day we still call him The Chef to remind of the time he almost killed an entire community with food poisoning. That period was arguable one of the best days of my life despite being an emotional mess.
I look forward to experiencing more wholesome events like this and I hope The Chef maintains his usual cooking abilities for the next time we meet.
