This story I am about to tell happened a while ago during Christmas. So it's like a Christmas tale but devoid of Santa, chimneys, trees, gifts or snow! It was an African Christmas. During Christmas in Nigeria, there is always the migration from cities to the ancestral homes, which are usually in the countryside. Only a few ancestral homes are in the city. There is this almost all-day party, series of events lined up for this festive period. It was the chance for some folks to know their roots.
Source
That particular year one of our relatives returned from the USA for the first time. That was after giving the Dad hell about wanting to see Africa. He was about 12 then. His name is Chikodili, but his American friends found this name to be a bit of a mouthful. They came up with Kodlins (pronounced as Cord-Leans). I gave the friends A for effort for coming up with that.
He was a little too eager to have what he called "an African experience." I wondered what that was.
I was to be his guide, a job I looked forward to. Everything I saw as normal fascinated him. One morning he came to my room and whispered that he wanted to live dangerously for the day. I was excited because I was getting tired of explaining things to him while at home.
For instance, yesterday he wanted to know why there is no place where he could get a free WiFi. I explained to him that there are no such things, at least in the village. That data is still a bit costly in Africa for people to give it out for free!
He needed an ice tea. I told him there was no ice in the fridge due to the electric power-sharing schedule which does not give us enough electricity to get the fridge to produce ice always.
His idea of dangerous living was riding on the local means of commercial commute which uses motorcycles, popularly known as Okada. I asked him why he considered an everyday occurrence here as dangerous. He explained he noticed people here are daredevils that ride motorcycles without a helmet. Oh my gosh! That made me the Daredevil Champion since I can't remember riding on one with a helmet! He flagged down the first one he saw and happily hopped on it. The man asked him where to, as soon as he answered the man knew he was one of the new arrivals.
He returned home after about 30 minutes. He was overjoyed. That means the "dangerous" living was much fun. I came out ten minutes later and noticed the Okada man was still waiting outside. I asked him if there was any issue. He replied that he was waiting to see if there was any other place he wanted to go. My cousin waved him off. It was after the Okada man had left that I remembered something. I asked him how he paid for the ride. He said I should not worry that he has been saving for the trip. I wanted to know how much he paid and he said $50. As soon as I heard the amount my jaw dropped. That explained the mystery of the waiting Okada man. He had unknowingly paid the man's earning for the day on a 30-minute ride! Well in the spirit of Christmas I did not drag this further. The man just got an early Christmas gift
After taking his bath, Kodlins still needed more of Africa. From now on I offered to pay for any other expenses incurred. As Kodlins and I walked aimlessly towards the village square, I met my distant cousin Mike seated on a roadside palm-wine spot drinking. He waved to us to come and join him. I did not want to go as Mike was a sort of a freeloader. If we are to join him, we would probably end up paying his bill. But Kodlins would have none of it. He wanted to experience all that Africa had to offer, and this opportunity seemed just about right.
We entered the roadside pub and were welcomed by tantalizing aroma of meat. The first thing that comes to my mind was that this was not such a bad idea.
Mike looked at me at that moment and winked knowingly as if he just read my thoughts.
I asked the lady running the joint what she had on the menu.
She replied, "We have fresh palm-wine (harvested hours earlier) with bush meat which I am still in the process of preparing"
Kodlins said we should start with the palm wine. He just needed a cup of it to see how it tastes. I obliged and ordered one bottle. The palm-wine was the best I had tasted in a while. Even Kodlins acknowledged it was good. He took more than one cup. An hour later, the lady announced that the meat was ready.
Mike requested for three servings as if he was the one going to foot the bill. I declined because I have already drunk too much palm-wine. The lady brought two servings, one for Mike and the other for Kodlins. Mike insisted that he would have my servings that she should go ahead and bring mine to him. Still the same old Mike I knew, so I was not surprised at the request.
When the bush-meat was served, I nearly changed my mind. It looked delicious, also watching Mike eat it with such gusto did not help either. Kodlins in spite of this being his first time of eating bushmeat agreed that it tasted very delicious. I nursed my drink, regretting not ordering the bushmeat.
Finally, it was time to pay. Mike was busy looking for a toothpick, acting as if he had nothing to do with the payment. That was after eating two servings! I paid. Then he remembered us as soon as he saw me handing over the cash to the lady. He joined us as we left and was telling us all sort of long tales. Kodlins found him hilarious. Me, on the hand, just wanted to go home and rest. We were almost home when Mike said, "Green we should do this again tomorrow, that lady is the best when it comes to preparing a snake pepper soup."
Kodlins and I simultaneously shouted in surprise, "Snake?!!!!"
Mike looked at us as if we were crazy.
"Yes, snake of course, what do you guys think the bushmeat was?"
Before I could find words to reply, I noticed that Kodlins was already sprinting home. I followed. Kodlins brushed his teeth and washed his mouth more than twenty times that day. He felt molested.
It was funny looking at his behavior afterward. I just couldn't help calling him The Snake Peppersoup Guy when he calmed down. The jibe was just too funny to pass up. I believe that lone experience was enough to wean him of his desire for African experience and make him remember Africa forever :)
Please if you like my post feel free to comment.
I believe steemit is more than an earning platform. I love connecting with people from diverse backgrounds and orientation.
Thank you for visiting my blog.
Regards,
@greenrun ... still running :)
As always great story, One question though? What is wrong with eating snake in Nigeria? I have had rattlesnake before and found it quite tasty. I was confused I guess as to if you were upset that you did not get any or if you felt like your visiting friend and was grossed out at the thought. Just wondering. I'm betting on the first, pissed because you did not get any.LoL.
Not a wrong practice. The thing is people do eat snakes willingly. But thinking you are eating another thing and discover it's snake, especially for someone not used to it, may pretty much gross them out.
O this made me laugh - great story
I'm glad it did. Thank you for your support. It means a lot to me.
Didnt knew african celebrates Christmas. Funny
They do...lol
Thanks for stepping in :)
To believe in something, and not to live it, is dishonest.
- Mahatma Gandhi
the old man is right
I really like your post, I will wait for the next posting
Thanks.
Hello @greenrun
This is a very interesting story and thanks for sharing.
Seeing your posts after a lot of annoying ones in the #nigeria category is a breath of fresh air.
Keep bringing us interesting posts and stories like this and you will grow faster in this platform.
Have a nice day.
@ogochukwu
Thanks a lot boss. Glad that you found it interesting. We can only get better. I do appreciate your kind comment.
I agree! It's so refreshing! He writes because he has stories, not for upvotes!
this is hilarious! you're very funny a great story teller. How long have you been writing? It's weird, but very few can even tell a proper story!
I have always wanted to write while little. But I never really do. Contemplated owning a blog, but found setting up one complex plus the fees to run it. I gave up. But suddenly there was steemit, everything I have always wanted is right there staring at me. I jumped in. Never really considered myself a writer. But I just like writing about things I've experienced or thought of. I know that sounds contradictory, but that's how I feel.
I had very same feelings about writing.....I never considered myself a writer! It was only in desperate times after the recession, when i lost everything that I applied for over 300 jobs......the only job I was offered was a writer! I never wrote professionally before this! It was just luck......I always kept diaries, though and as a child i had over 20 international penpals. As a child, I wrote almost every day. Simple stuff....observations...
Steemit is our personal blog....not many really get it that they don't have to pay for hosting, web address or anything...the free tools are not understood, except by a few of us.
I knew instantly that I would build my palace on Steemit. And I used to pray that it would not be destroyed...
The only time I came close to writing as a child was when I wrote a distant uncle in the USA to send me a bike. The story could make for an interesting post. I just might do it. Hehehe
I kept pieces of paper of scribblings. Then, I wanted to be an author to impress my Dad. I know he likes reading. His old bookshelf filled with books attest to this. But it never really turned into a book as I keep losing it. Wish there was steemit then to keep the scraps of jottings.
Funny photos of sant 😊😊
I'm glad you found it funny. He was rushing to an event :)
Lol
Should have you use chewing sticks self
Nice story bro
You are just too good bro with story telling
Thanks a lot.
Nwanne, I so much salute your creative acumen. "U make sense jare"
Thanks a lot bro. We can only try.