Jollof rice with many pieces of meat. (credit: social media)
In the neighbourhood of the Basseys, electricity overslept because the alarm of her boss ran out of battery and so power was supplied for m-a-n-y hours more … too usual and so items in Mariah Bassey’s refrigerator had to contend with the unusual winter by hibernating.
It was early in the morning and Mariah didn’t want to turn to a noisemaker, carpenter, butcher hitting and hammering in order to set free her pot of soup so she decided to let go.
She prepared jollof rice without meat for her family and when her hubby, Francis complained she explained what happened to him, “Darling, ‘NEPA’ forgot us and so the relatively stable light made my refrigerator experience winter in Nigeria and I couldn’t set free my pot of soup. You and I know 5.30am is too early and I don’t want to wake up everybody in the neighbourhood ….”
Her hubby didn’t find it funny and he registered his disappointments and Mariah went defensive.
“Frankly speaking Francis I knew you from day one as curves lover and since your mind loves curves I felt your mouth too will, so I decided to put that special spoon with curves so she can serve as meat and compensate your mouth.”
Francis never knew he married a comedienne-turned-banker until this morning and couldn’t believe his ears and had to pause for some seconds to digest the whole events before he finally exploded in an uproarious laughter which woke up virtually everybody in their condo.
Alas, what his wife was running away from was what happened at long last.
The character of that laughter was bad, self-defeatist and I guess you all will agree with me that the mischievous laughter needs to be given some strokes of the cane.
The story (like others) exists in the imaginations of the writer.