Still on this fuel thing. I have been sitting on this post for a while now. It has to do with some memories which I’m weirdly fond of.
I remember when I was younger (primary schooldays) and I thought it was the right time to take a stand for something I believed I was not cool with – Okra soup.
I told my mother one Wednesday (or thereabouts) that I didn’t want to eat the soup she just prepared because it was okra which I didn’t like. She just said “ok” – every African child understands how weighty that word can be when it comes from your mother – I learnt that day. Long story short, I slept hungry.
Next morning my brother and cousin took bread and tea and she asked me if I wanted to eat Eba and Okra soup that morning, but being the revolutionary I was, I said no again and I went to school hungry that Thursday.
On my return from school that day I begged my mother for the okra soup and Eba which I ate like it was fried rice and chicken with fried plantain. Since then I have become something of a poster – boy for okra soup. Oh! And if at all you knew my mother, you’d know she didn’t raise choosy kids – but being the first child, I was the lesson for the younger ones to learn from.
My story bears a very striking resemblance to the realities that obtain in our country today. We didn’t want to buy fuel at higher prices under the previous administration and even shut down the country for a while; but we were deprived of the commodity completely for some time – now we are paying through our noses (literally) and we can’t say anything anymore.
I bet most people don’t remember that the official pump price of petrol in Nigeria is #87 (I kid you not). But unofficially, it goes for between #130 and #160 in my locale.
This is just a national proof that my mom’s parenting is the bomb.
I told my mother one Wednesday (or thereabouts) that I didn’t want to eat the soup she just prepared because it was okra which I didn’t like. She just said “ok” – every African child understands how weighty that word can be when it comes from your mother – I learnt that day. Long story short, I slept hungry.
Next morning my brother and cousin took bread and tea and she asked me if I wanted to eat Eba and Okra soup that morning, but being the revolutionary I was, I said no again and I went to school hungry that Thursday.
On my return from school that day I begged my mother for the okra soup and Eba which I ate like it was fried rice and chicken with fried plantain. Since then I have become something of a poster – boy for okra soup. Oh! And if at all you knew my mother, you’d know she didn’t raise choosy kids – but being the first child, I was the lesson for the younger ones to learn from.
My story bears a very striking resemblance to the realities that obtain in our country today. We didn’t want to buy fuel at higher prices under the previous administration and even shut down the country for a while; but we were deprived of the commodity completely for some time – now we are paying through our noses (literally) and we can’t say anything anymore.
I bet most people don’t remember that the official pump price of petrol in Nigeria is #87 (I kid you not). But unofficially, it goes for between #130 and #160 in my locale.
This is just a national proof that my mom’s parenting is the bomb.
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