So I sat down to think yesterday. I am not kidding, I actually got up from the bed, pulled out a chair and sat with my head in my hands to think. After close to an hour of deliberation and careful meditation, I came to a conclusion;(rhyme! \\(˘⌣˘)// ), that Eba is always great with Ogbolo soup. What? No? Idiot! Listen to me…
The tray is placed before you. In one plate, the eba lies, glistening yellow (yellow garri rocks!) and making the nylon covering ‘sweat’. The ogbolo on the other hand, or plate, steams teasingly, with small bits of fish and periwinkles and snail and other amphibians, crustaceans and related or unrelated aquatic life forms and bushmeat, all jingling and floating together happily in a sea of draw draw. Your fada! *smacking lips*
But it is not just the aesthetics I’m talking about. You see, that sensation when the eba glides down your gullet on a stream of fresh, hot ogbolo, chased after by a periwinkle bouncing around a piece of soft snail meat, is as close to heaven on Earth as you can get, except you’re talking about a BJ from Angelina Jolie, which is just another level entirely.
So, I’m ranting again today. Been ages and as usual, I’m just writing out the words as they pour in. I’m alone, the room is dark, my battery is dead and basically since I don’t wank..much, I have nothing else to do. Been teaching for a while now (yes, since monday, and yes, it is a big deal!), and already the kids love their ‘Uncle’. After all, how many Biology teachers swag to class, speak pidgin with a British accent and throw chalk at noisemakers? All in all, the classes have been fun and today is Friday, and I hate the school already. No, that’s not a typo. I really hate the school. Why? Let me paint you another scenario.
The clock reads 6:30am, and sunlight wafts in through the window, sifting past the half opened curtains to wash upon your face. What do you do? You close the curtains and go back to sleep! Yes! That’s what to do, except, the alarm blares out and I have to scramble or I’ll be late for school!
Imagine! Spent six years in primary school, six in secondary school and thereabouts of five in the university, and I never rushed for class. Except it was C. A. Vowa teaching in SS1 Chemistry, but then again, she was..well…(._.)
Anyway, now I’m a graduate and I gotta be in ‘school’ before 8:00am, Port-harcourt traffic notwithstanding. So yeah, I hate the school. *sips Amando! pure water*
You see, I’m of the lazy sort, the sort of guy who is supposed to be born with a golden, platinum-flecked spoon and a 20-billion dollar trust fund. I don’t do 6:30am wake-ups and dashing through the rain to teach children the differences between the lungs and a pair of gills. Hell, they should know! (˘̯˘ )
Speaking of rain, last wednesday, not this one, the last one, I had a full-on understanding of the NYSC anthemn. You see, I had CDS that morning and as I stepped five paces from my room, the skies opened and everything inside the clouds dropped on me. (I mean this in as literal a manner as possible). Those peeps singing “Heaven, open and pour down on me”, it will so ‘over’ you ehn! I looked like a drenched rat that morning, hair dripping like..*fix in name of sexy, male, non-gay model here*..but that is where the resemblance ends. Jacket, combat trousers, boots, were soaked, and there I stood clutching a small green cap and waiting for an empty taxi., the refrains from the anthemn, “…under the sun, and in the rain…”, kept ringing in my ears.
Anyway, I got a free ride, the first half of the trip, there is something about a soaked Corper that brings out the ‘love for fellow man’ in anyone, (we should dress half the Middle East in soaked NYSC uniforms, and who knows…), but that ‘love’ died when the driver of the next bus shouted, “Ehn Corpa, Mile 3 na N200 oh!” (Maybe there’s no hope for the Middle East after all).
So, the girls in the lodge I stay in are laughing and gisting and inside here is dark and lonely. I think I deserve some moonlight. No?
*I really hate WordPress for Blackberry, blame them for the absence of pictures. *I actually enjoy teaching young minds. I always enjoy talking anyway.. ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯
*Mrs C. A. Vowa, co-author of Round-up Chemistry for Senior school, taught me Chemistry in SS1 and is probably the reason for my extreme narcissism and the death of my former inferiority complex.
*Uhm..keep singing “Open heavens” oh! I would not be accused for causing a decline in sales of any daily devotional. Nuff said..
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P.S: Truth be told, Pounded yam and Ogbolo is the ghen ghen! It’s probably what would be served in Heaven. Like, worship, eat some pounded yam and ogbolo, worship, eat some more pounded yam and ogbolo, worship again, stroll in Paradise while swallowing balls of pounded yam and ogbolo, worship…
P.S.S: Amando! pure water (with the exclamation mark) actually does exist. And Ogbolo is what mere mortals call Ogbono. Ok..