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I don't think you want to know.
Although I cried my eyes out that day, because I was attempting to start a business, now, each time the memory crosses my mind, I pause to have a good laugh.
I was a 200-level student who wanted to be independent of family, at least in my way. It happened that I was gifted some money for the week's expenses. Oh, bless that human I call a best friend. I had many needs staring at me with hungry eyes. I knew I should attend to them. For example, I couldn't trek to school, could I? Yet, something in me told me it was about time I started to take initiative.
Perhaps I could start a small business that would fetch me returns.
I decided to try popcorn. After all, making popcorn wasn't a difficult thing to do. So I believed. I purchased the ingredients — flint corn, vegetable oil, sugar, and milk. I envisioned how the milky taste of the popcorn would send my customers to cloud nine. At nighttime, I set to work.
Although I did not have a popcorn maker, I decided to use my cooking pot. Everything was set. The recipe I'd watched a million times was stuck in my head, I could recite it like ABC.
With the dry pot on the fire, I poured some vegetable oil. My brain did not remind me that I was supposed to measure the quantity of oil. I only used my eyes to judge.
“Will this do?”
I peered into the pot. I nodded negatively. I nodded affirmatively.
“It should.” I was speaking with myself, maybe tutoring myself, who knew?
With the heated vegetable oil, I poured almost half of the corn I bought into the pot. I didn't know how my inner tutor couldn't discern that I should try just a little since it was my first attempt. And to that, I poured some sugar into it.
“This is business; I should learn to economise. I don't want to be refilling my gas cylinder every week, do I?”
That was my excuse.
Guess what? You know, when frying popcorn, you should hear the popping sound right? I mean, that sound could leave a newbie jumping like a happy lad. Two minutes passed, and there was no sound.
I put my ears close to the covered pot. Had my eardrums stopped collecting sound waves? If I still heard, the popping sounds were barely audible. Just faint.
By the time I opened the pot, I was greeted with a well-presented burnt sacrifice. I jumped back in shock, my heart almost died inside my chest.
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“God! What's this?”
What my eyes caught was no way close to the white milky popcorn I'd envisioned.
“But this was supposed to be the easiest thing to do, Delight! How did you get it wrong?” My voice was a mixture of query and sadness.
With my teary eyes, I poured out the charred popcorn into a stainless bowl and decided to continue regardless. Something meaningful could still be made out of a mess, right?
I comforted myself with those thoughts and continued, adding some powdered milk. Something whispered to me to return the popcorn to the pot, but on a low heat. I decided against it, leaving the kitchen and letting the buttery smell of popcorn waft through my nostrils. That was the only thing I could account for.
My brain rebooted back to reality. How would I survive that week and the ones after? Was this how business people started? How did Thomas Edison feel after his first attempt?
You can be sure no question didn't cross my mind that day.
Well, how did it end? I returned to the kitchen, fetched some, and began to eat. There was no need for dinner. The only good thing about that night was the toasty buttery smell that engulfed the house. One would think I'd just made irresistible popcorn. After eating to my fill, I was still tying the rest in transparent nylons when I heard the familiar voice of my cousin brother in the living room. Perhaps he'd perceived the smell because he asked if I had made some popcorn, and I told him it was my new business. He was impressed.
“With this good smell everywhere in the house, I can bet that this is the best popcorn in the world. Kudos, sis,” he said proudly although he didn't step a foot into the kitchen.
All I heard in my head was mockery. I was close to tearing up but I maintained composure, walked into the room with a faint smile. “For today, I'm starting with the deep brown, burnt strong popcorn, not the normal one you know.”
Well, did I lie?
Guess what? He grinned happily, declaring that he preferred that. I gladly rushed to fetch some. He bought everything that night.
The next evening, as I changed into something lighter, I could still hear the crackling sound of the charred popcorn in his mouth.