By Abiodun Alonge
Last year, I made three different soups.
Ok! Pause!! That’s not the real gist.
Let me start from the very beginning. ☺️
I travelled to the village sometime last year with two of my cousins – Samson and Segun. I needed to relax my nerves and enjoy the serenity of the mountains sitting behind the house I planned to stay in. It was the New Yam Festival so we had also lined up activities for the weekend.
The journey was smoother than cream. And the manner in which the driver meandered his way skillfully without over speeding was nothing short of experience. Besides, before we hit the road, an elderly man already charged God to take over the wheels.
We arrived at our destination at 3 pm after an eight-hour journey, and there was still enough time to relax before setting out for our first cycle of activities.
The only problem was… food.
What would the three musketeers eat?
I had barely eaten any roadside food and neither did my cousins. So, we sat, and I pondered on the available options,
- The insatiable quick option of noodles?
Waved! I was not going to spend so much only to get hungry again before midnight.
- Concoction rice? Ko mo mi l’ara mo (I haven’t done this combination since Nysc).
- Yam? Somehow, this option refused to remain an option.
As the eldest of the trio, my cousins waited for my opinion while also refusing to release money. I had to decide fast. I also had to take into cognizance of the fact that the food we needed was one that could be easily prepared but still keep us filled for the longest possible time.
I wondered if my brothers were also caught up in the same web as me. I couldn’t really tell. They were equally tired but they seemed more enthusiastic than me.
And then, just as we were about to drop under the weight of hunger and confusion, Bose, my other cousin, came around…Yaay!
She pushed aside the others as she ran towards me
Ki la le je bayi? (what can we eat?) I asked her.
She ruminated on the question, but I had no patience.
Shey efo wa? (is there vegetable?)
She nodded in response.
Fantastic! Right there, what I wanted to eat finally hit me like a revelation.
Vegetable stew and boiled rice! Before we knew what was happening, we arranged a budget.
Efo #50
Locust beans #20
Crayfish #20
Dried fish #??
Every other complement was readily available.
The department of boiled rice got to work immediately while I got started with my vegetable procedure.
Twenty minutes later, food was ready, and we settled to eat. Who would have imagined that a budget of less than #500 would bring us a kingly feast?
But this is really not about food
If you are wondering what all these mean, I will tell you.
It means…People!!
I sometimes do the weird thing of thinking of life as a meal. In this sense, certain people have played a motherhood role in my life and they have cooked me into what I have become today. These people nurtured me, parboiled me, fried me – each act serving as a life lesson. I’m still learning, clinging onto their apron strings, hoping someday to lead a life that makes their effort worth it.
Certain people have played a motherhood role in my life and they have cooked me into what I have become today.
These people who have cooked me and shaped me now inspire me to pass on the knowledge to the next generation, starting with my children.
After all, their methodologies worked on me like magic.
I read the signs and the body languages.
I know when to talk and when to be mute.
I know when to take and when to give.
I know when to eat and when to say no.
I know all these because I was taught
I know all these because I embraced life lessons.
And so, I say thank you to every informal mentor out there.
Nice one