Source: unsplash.com
Hello great people, let me tell you about how I served in the position of an unofficial food taster in my grandma’s store.
Shortly before that, I never knew about this particular contest until it began. This is my first attempt in the comtest of comedy open mic community that started last week.
Link: comedy open mic
I am so excited to join because it’s an avenue to compete with other great minds, to read a lot of funny posts and also to break a rib or two from laughing out loud #lolz
My grandmother is such a sweet, caring and kind woman. She owns a provision store along a popular street in town where she sells a variety of common goods both perishable and nonperishable.
Grandma is also a disciplinarian. She doesn’t take nonsense and she’s a “trainer”.
I witnessed how she woke her niece up from sleep in the middle of the night to subscribe her to some premium beatings.
I was aware of how disobedient the niece had been for a couple of days before the disciplinary day. My grandma had been cutting her some slack until that particular day.
During the short holiday before Christmas, my siblings – my brother and my cousin (a boy) and I decided to visit our grandma to spend a few days with her.
One evening, my siblings were playing outside the store with the neighbors' children who happened to be all male.
I think it’s unfair because even at home, our neighbor’s children are all male too. I’m usually alone. I don’t get the opportunity to play among girls except at school.
Grandma clearly isn’t in support of me playing with boys all around but what can a bored teenage sister possibly do?
As a matter of fact, most elderly are always too protective of the girl child around male folks especially during teenage years.
You might be wondering why but welcome to Nigeria where two innocent children of separate genders play together is considered immorality.
I never knew how serious my grandmother took this matter until this particular day, around 4 pm.
With my cheeks up, I was busy enjoying the show that my siblings and their friends were portraying in the sun, all sweaty and energetic.
I was only a moment away from finally joining when I heard my grandma call my name.
"Joyce!"
She doesn’t call twice except she’s in a very good mood.
I ran towards her with immediate effect.
“Should we make rice or eba?” she asked.
I turned my head quickly to check what the time states. It was past four already.
I knew it was dinner time already. My grandma doesn’t like eating late so she have us eat early as well to prevent indigestion before bedtime.
With my mind still struggling to let go of the game that my siblings were playing outside, I decided to go for the faster food.
“Eba!” I exclaimed with a fake smile.
“Very good, thank God there’s stew before, we’ll just make little plain okra to complement it” I added.
I was super excited because technically, this meal would take at most 35 minutes.
Sare bu omi wa ka je ko gbona (Quickly get water from the tap and put it to boil).
I dashed out to the front yard to get clean water from the tank and put it on the stove to boil.
I went back to my position where I could effortlessly watch my siblings do their games and forget about what I was cooking entirely.
Few minutes later, my brother waved at me to come join them. I’d lifted my buttocks to join them when I heard my name again.
“Joyce!”
I ran over to my grandma again.
Maje kin ri ese e ni ita yen o ( don’t let me see your legs outside there)
Ko te eba yi fun mi kiakia ( and make this Eba for me quickly).
It’s more of a culture in this part of the world for a girl child to stay around with the mother or elderly ones whenever cooking is being done.
This is done generally for girls to learn cooking skills from their parents.
I knew all of these before but on that fateful day, my mind was far from cooking that evening.
There’s actually nothing wrong with wanting to mingle with others for once, yeah?
My eyes were fixed on the game that my siblings were playing with the other neighbors outside the store but I eventually regained focus for a few minutes.
I went into the store to get a bowl, rinse it and make the eba.
Before I was done, my grandma was done grating the okra.
“Oya take this and make it quickly my dear”, She said.
I knew that the “my dear” in that context was like a bribe to motivate me to work quickly for a better rest.
“Jesus!” I exclaimed inside me.
Anyways, it’s just plain okra na, within 3 minutes, I’ll be done.
Fighting!! I motivated myself to hang in there for a few minutes more. The journey to come is less than the journey so far.
I hastily made the okra and while I waited for it to get done, a call came through my grandma’s phone.
It was my aunt who was in the school of nursing and midwifery then. After the call, my grandma informed me to bring the kettle back and put another water to boil.
“Really? You don’t mean it” I struggled with my inner self to actually believe that I’m in for the cooking part 2 that evening.
I looked up at the time , it was around 5:30 pm. The neighbors would soon be around and the kids would go back to their parents house.
I was getting sad already but a spirit in me strengthened me to keep going.
I eventually placed the kettle on the stove to boil.
I went back to my viewing position. As I was about to sit, I heard my name again. This time it was twice.
“Ma?”
I wondered what the occasion could be.
As I walked towards her, she asked me to add more water in the kettle to boil so that we’ll be able to parboil green vegetables with the remaining boiled water after making the eba.
This is solely because my aunt doesn’t eat okra. We had to make green vegetable soup.
“I thought I was almost free” I squeezed my face and thought to myself.
Can’t she just reason my dedication all these while and free me for the remaining part of that evening?
I wished the international human right organization could come around to save me that evening. After all, there’s freedom of this and that in the constitution, why isn’t there freedom to play?
Sigh, these adults don’t consider children’s feelings when making the law.
After I made the second batch of eba, I took law into my hands and absconded from the kitchen and the store entirely.
I waited for about 10 minutes before joining the game just to hear if she’d call my name again.
Gentlemen and ladies, I didn’t hear my name. I joined the game as a moderator and honestly, I was enjoying it.
About five minutes into the game, everyone suddenly stopped playing, and the whole place was quiet.
As the moderator, I asked what was going on and they signaled to me that I should look behind me.
I did and it was my grandma.
She was seated on my regular viewing spot.
When she noticed that I’ve seen her, she asked us to continue our game. She even said she wasn’t there to disturb us but she just left the kitchen because of the heat.
Wow, it felt so nice to be favored by God. So my grandma could watch me play, especially with the boys while she’s cooking in the kitchen.
Wonders finally ended that day.
Fast-forward to a few minutes later.
I heard my name just once.
I ran over to meet her. I thought I was in trouble or called over to do kitchen assistant duty but lo and behold, I was honored to be a food taster.
“Please help me taste this food dear, I ate tom tom few minutes ago so I can’t really get the taste”
I gleefully stretched my right hand with my palm wide open, fully guarded to chest the hotness of the soup and my eyes fixated on the savory taste I’d get.
In split seconds, she held me by the wrist and landed the hot soup spoon on my palm with the highest force possible.
I couldn’t believe my eyes, it was as if my fight or flight hormone took time to react. I was 5 hits away before I could retreat.
Three hot hits on my palm repeatedly and two others landed on my back.
The feeling of the force plus the hotness of the heated silver soup spoon produced a great pain that I never imagined would happen to me that day.
As she hit me, she simultaneously asked me if I knew my offense.
“Who am I not to know my offense?”
I said within me.
Beatings from my grandma are usually like a brain reset; the holy spirit would bring your offense to you naturally without being told by her.
I quickly replied that I wouldn’t play with the boys again!
I’ll stay in the kitchen whenever food is being done!!
It was more like an affirmation. I repeated it several times before she freed me.
I quietly sat inside the kitchen, sobbed and looked outside like a wet puppy in regret.
The neighbors' children dismissed themselves and went home. My siblings sat quietly for a few minutes before they began another game inventory between themselves.