I use to remember those days in primary school assembly
ground when we use to sing “I will never steal from my mommy’s pot or tell lies
to daddy” well those days are gone,
there wasn’t the idea to steal that time because the fear of my mother’s
punches autocorrected my senses, I nearly lost my ribs the day she beat me, it
was like the way mama ngozi pounds cocoyam when she wants to cook oha soup or
ofe olugbo, I didn’t steal all I did was mix kerosene and groundnut oil
together, I learnt it the painful way that oils dissolve in organic solvent and
my mother made sure I never forgot. Now back to the stealing. I got to know of
the immunity grown-ups had, their super power was amazing, they had mastered
the act of eating meat from the pot without being caught. Mother wouldn’t have
to punch them because it was of no use, all she could do was shout and quarrel.
I too wanted that power and ability to steal meat and not get mother’s fist.
sadly I needed to grow up I was just 6years old, 10years later, all grown up I
had perfected ways to steal meat, not any other meat but my own mother’s meat,
I could ask her but she will deny me sometimes, I was never going to be
subjected to that song for kid.
Mother knowing of
my schemes started counting the meats, she would come home to see one or two
piece of meat missing, as I would quickly brush my teeth and pretend like I was
just returning from school. She would wonder why my breath always smells fresh
anytime her meat was missing, in my defense I would tell her I swallowed
hydrogen sulphide in the chemistry lab and breath was like rotten egg, One
Sunday after church she fried fish the aroma was so amazing I couldn’t resist,
one of the piece of fish went missing when she asked I blamed it on the rat
that entered the room that afternoon telling her that rats have a keen sense of
smell and probably trailed it to the food shelf. She was getting suspicious
because I was always the one to answer when she asked and always had the
perfect answer and explanation for any stolen meat. Though my elder brothers
had their own role to play in the event but theirs was periodically, mine was
getting out of hand I was abusing my power, so she schemed and planned my
downfall.
she had chicken
prepared one Wednesday morning after I supposedly left for school, I waited at
the back of the window and spied as she wrapped them into the fridge and left a
big piece on the tray, something told me to make a run for it that it was a
trap, but my nostrils and taste buds wouldn’t agree, like they say ‘a house fly
that doesn’t heed to warnings will be buried with the corpse’ I took the piece of chicken and zoomed off to
school, unfortunately and to my surprise the assembly was still on with the
student singing that song again. my mother stood with the principal staring at
me angrily it was obvious she narrated everything I had done. my mum couldn’t
punch me but my principal was terrifying with bunch of canes, he was nicknamed
“don’t touch” because his lashes were so painful if you try to rub it he will start
wiping you all over again.
I walked to the
front of the assembly to be flogged in the presence of my friends (those that
ate the meat with me) and foes (those that didn’t like me because I didn’t
share), I was the topic of that term in school in unrelated courses like
government, geography mathematics, English and science courses I was used as an
example. Even to the point I was an example in the exam that everybody passed
thanks to me. To this point ALL I WANTED
TO DO WAS STEAL MEAT WITH IMMUNITY. The END