Tinkerbel the Egufe Snatcher

A blood cuddling scream from the living room caught me unawares. In my shock I spilled ewedu soup (traditional yoruba delicacy) on my new white jean shorts. My elder sister who was sitting beside me quickly stood up and ran out of the room as I followed in close pursuit to the living room. The scene we met was like something from the famous Tom and Jerry cartoon. My youngest sister, Esse, was in tears, rolling on the floor and howling at the top of her lungs, while another younger sister, Ohis, had caught one of our dogs 'Jackie' and was trying to beat it with a shoe!

It was the year of our Lord, 2004, my elder sister and I were visiting home from university. We had bought amala (plantain meal) and ewedu with 'egufe' (goat meat). For as long as I can remember, our parents have prohibited buying cooked food from roadside canteens because my mom who was a nurse was conscious of the health hazards and my dad simply didn't like eating out. This strict upbringing however, did not stop us from craving the odd roadside akara (bean balls) fried in palm oil or the the tuwo (Hausa traditional meal) sold on the way from the local bustop. Rather it sharpened our thirst for roadside canteen foods.  

Photo Credits: Idowu Ejere sefiesm...Sept 2015

Presently

We had bought 4 helpings of amala and egufe and my elder sister and I went to eat in the bedroom, another taboo we never try when our parents are around, while my younger sisters went to eat in the living room sitting as close to the TV as possible. They had just settled down to eat when there was a knock on the door. A friend of one of our other sisters (we are so many), who was not at home at the time, came looking for her. Ohis was anxious to begin eating and so summarily explained that Olly was away on a French Village excursion. She saw the guest off but forgot to close the door to the porch so one of our dogs, Jackie, who had smelt the food from afar quietly entered the living room and ate Esses's Egufe. Esse who was at the fridge getting some water, walked in at that moment and let out a blood cuddling scream. We heard the scream from the bedroom and ran to the living room and found Ohis who was now back in the house trying to beat the dog.

The dog was faster than her and ran out through the front door closely followed by Ohis, crying Esse, Odion and I. As we chased the dog round the back of the house, the dog noticed that the back door was open and ran through it to the living room and at that moment it must have noticed that there was another plate of egufe right there, all for the taking! We chased the dog into the living room and saw it flee out the front door with Ohis's egufe in its mouth. 

Even as i recall that day i can't help but laugh as words cannot explain the sadness we all felt that day. Ohis and Esse's sadness was justified because the dog ate their meat but even when we shared with them we felt bad and they were still dissatisfied. Esse was to mourn about the egufe for dayssssss!

Right now I am on my way to 'Iya Oyo' restaurant in Utako Abuja.. egufe on my mind!

Idowu
Abuja
2015

CHAINSAW MASSACRE IN GENEVA

It was January 9 2009, we had just landed at Geneva International Airport where the weather was about two degrees. Bundled up in our thick jackets, gloves, mufflers and caps we must have looked like Eskimos but we couldn't care less. We were at last going to visit all the places we had only dreamed of and saw in pages of text books and magazines. Out first point of call would be the Patek Philippe Museum spanning 500 years of masterpiece creations from the best watch makers in the world. We were expecting to see an extraordinary display of watches, musical automata and portrait miniatures from the 16th to the 19th century, in addition to a library dedicated entirely to horology. It didn't matter that the chances of our buying anything was slimmer than a wand. We were going to shop till we dropped on the famous Rues Basses street, we were going to visit the UN, Redcross, Rousseau Island (a romantic Island named after one of my favourite philosophers, Jean Jacques-Rousseau), the Place Neuve, the Lake and perhaps go to the foot of Monte Blanc.

With Omon Imohi, Jan 2009, The Lake, Geneva, Switzerland

Presently, my travel companion and sister Omon was rummaging though her hand bag, looking for the information note we got from the bed and breakfast we had booked prior to embarking on the journey. She finally found it and we proceeded to ask for directions to the address from the Information Desk. The pleasant thing about Switzerland is that they have four official languages, French, English, Italian and German, and so far as you can speak one, you can't really be lost. The Information Officer told us that buses to our destination were free, showed us where the bus stand was and and gave us the bus number to enter. We easily found our bus and got seated, we were glad to finally be on our way. 

As the bus wove its way through the city, dropping-off and picking up passengers, we couldn't help noticing all the beautiful hotels such as the Intercontinental, Mandarin Oriental, Grand Hotel Kempinsky, to mention a few. It was Omon that made our hotel booking and at some point I heard her mutter "I hope our bed and breakfast is at least decent". Our bus was noisy and since it was raining outside, the combination made it difficult for us to hear the stop announcements not that we understood since it happened to be in French. For in our bus we had people of all colours and races, to a first-timer it confirms the notion that Switzerland is truly a cosmopolitan country. 

We watched as more and more people got off the bus, till eventually there was only a handful of us left. As the bus sped through the night, we noticed a road sign that read Goodbye from Geneva it was then translated in three other languages. At this time I said "Omon are you sure we are going to the right place, we've left Geneva." Omon spoke to a lady who was sitting behind us and showed her the address, the lady said not to worry that we were right on track, that she was going the same way. That allayed my worries, for the time being. Once again we settled in for the ride. After what seemed like a short while, we arrived a village, a real village. Everyone alighted from the bus and the driver told us this was the last stop so we got off the bus at loss as to what next to do so once again Omon asked the lady from the bus about the bed and breakfast and she pointed in the general direction of a tall, nice looking building that somewhat stood out from the smaller houses in the surrounding. We thanked her and dragged our luggage towards the big building. 

On getting to the entrance of the building we rang the bell and the door was answered by a pleasant looking young lady carrying a baby. Thinking she was the bed and breakfast owner we explained that we were the guests that booked a room from the the UK. She was surprised by our explanation and said that it was her personal house and that there is no hotel or bed and breakfast within the entire community. By now we were beginning to panic. Upon showing her the Information Note, she read the address and conceded that though she knows the address she is not aware of any bed and breakfast in that location. She graciously offered to help us call the place, since we had no phones, once she was through talking on the phone she tried to describe the way to the house in question, directing us back to the road and showing us a dirt road to follow. 

Photo credits: Omon Imohi, Jan 2009, Geneva, Switzerland 

I was scared and even Omon was getting worried. I said "Omon are you sure this is safe?" Her reply was "Its okay even if we decide not to stay there, lets get there first, spend the night and tomorrow we can look for another place, I have to collect my one hundred and eighty pounds deposit." So we thanked the lady who promptly went back into her house and started down the dirt road. The road was muddy due to the rain, there was a broken down tractor farther down, by the road side, we could see a weak light in a distance and the illusion of a house but the road was dark, smelly and slippery.

By now, even Omon, despite her initial bravado was getting scared. I didn't even try to conceal my fears, I said "Omon I don't like this, there is no one in sight and everything is too still." At that moment we heard footsteps and heavy breathing coming towards us. In a sharp voice Omon yelled "Who is that!" No one answered. The foot steps stopped. We continued walking, then we heard the footsteps again, this time it sounded nearer so we started walking faster but the footsteps became more hurried too. Omon suddenly stopped and looked sideways, I nearly bumped into her. She was so still, so I followed her gaze. In the weak light I couldn't really see his face except that he was wearing what seemed like a well worn hooded great coat, the over 6 feet man standing a few feet away seemed to have emerged from nowhere. What happened next is what horror movies are made of. One minute Omon was standing right there, the next thing I knew she had picked her bags and was running back the way we came at breakneck speed, all the while yelling "Chainsaw massacre! Its the man from the Texan Chain Saw Massacre." I exclaimed "Ehn?" It took me a split second to follow suit. 

Its amazing how one could run so fast without remembering if you put your right foot before or behind your left. For once being an athlete in high school paid off. Both Omon and I had been runners in secondary school. We ran for our dear lives, not stopping till we arrived at the bus stop. Needless to say. we wound up back at the airport where we used the airport tourist service to get a cheap hotel in the city. 

It was a night to remember and the beginning of a memorable holiday.