Wednesday, November 4, 2015

WHERE'S MY JOLLOF??


I sat in my room that morning, one of those days when you wake up and lie down lazily on your bed, thinking of sweet nothings.

I had been invited to a wedding by my friend..and I couldn't fathom the joy that I would see wedding jollof again....it was mindblowing. I laid on the bed reminiscing on the slightly orange, no it cant be red, that would be too much tomato, single grained rice, with a distinct aroma that could still be perceived days after, and that piece of fried meat sitting gallantly in the middle staring at you. Please do not insult wedding jollof with plantain, you can carry out that sacrilege at home. This is a reverred meal.

I am not a glutton, but my oh my!! There is something about wedding jollof that makes it stand out from the ones we cook at home.

I dunno if it's the firewood used in cooking, or the condiments and spices, I can't just place it!!
Who is feeling this testimony brethren?? Glory Glory!!!

One of my favourite hymns in church says " I need no other argument, I need no other plea"...for Jollof, I need no other invitation.

I took my time to bath, after pushing out the excesses of the previous day, to give room for the meal of the day...the meal to come....my jollof.

I put on my Asoebi, I have never liked gele...my "off shoulder" sleeveless flowered gown, just on my knee, my navy blue shoe with red heels, I held a small red clutch, my phone...that was it. I don't like baggage, straight to the point. You know my signature ponytail hairstyle na...with little makeup...I was good to go.

I called up my girls and we met at the junction. Never!! And I repeat never!! go to the church service, you wont make it in time to the reception venue, to get the best seats. 

We arrived at the reception venue, one cool hotel,  looking all tush, my eyes scanning the hall for the location of my jollof.

See, Jollof needs no introduction at any event. Burial, naming ceremony, wedding, birthday, please name it!

We allowed our noses guide us to the perfect seat, not too far from where you can see the couple, and relatively close to where the buffet table was. Gbam!!

You know in Nigeria, many people abuse this word "buffet". I mean, you go to a wedding and they say its buffet, but they don't let you serve yourself. It happens in two ways, either there is a mean looking lady behind the table, bypassing all the chicken laps on top of the tray, to look for the wings, ribs and chest to serve you, while you seethe behind that tight smile.

Oya lets do that smile....1..2...3...smile, shut your teeth together(to avoid calling her a "beach"), blink three to four times (to stop the tears)...then mouth thank you. I suggest you walk away calmly.

This same buffet in Nigeria also means, these same mean girls, will share the food, and now hand it over to very partial sets of girls called ushers, who look at your table, and if they find no eligible bachelor, overlook you.

Trouble started when it was time to share drinks. Lemme tell you something, If they share wine and soft drinks for everyone, and then drop water, serviette and tooth pick on your table, I can assure you with 98% confidence, you are getting no jollof that day.

During the chairman's speech, they started serving the food, beginning from the high table. The ushers kept passing my table with hot steaming jollof as if we were invisible. I acted cool because they just started serving like 15minutes ago.

I kept glancing at the tray of jollof rice behind me, rubbing that invisible spot behind my neck, and watched as it kept reducing in quantity. I was sweating lightly now, despite the cool AC closeby. I was praying in my heart, wondering what I did wrong in my past life to deserve this treatment. By now, the visitors in my stomach had started grumbling, they took part in the cleanup exercise, and were expecting a reward by now.

I continued sipping my water as I professed faith that the pastor preached about the previous week. I tried every trick I knew, even smiling at the ushers as they passed, all to no avail. Could this be payback?? Did karma remember when I hid my pot of jollof rice that hot afternoon my friends visited?? Ahhh!! Karma is a beach and suffers no amnesia!!

Respite came my way, I saw that dear usher walk towards our table, after extra 30minutes, with a tray holding one plate of jollof, coconut and fried rice. I was forgiven of my past sins! I smiled ever so beautifully, as I stretched out my hands to collect my food....and the beach just walked past us. I had to gently drop one hand first, scanning the faces around, then dropped the other hand 4seconds later.  

I didn't know when I muttered "where's my jollof??" My world had just crumbled. I couldn't take it anymore. My stomach visitors were in revolt and my friends wouldn't stop laughing. They had eaten at home, an advice I refuse to take so I won't contaminate my jollof.

I stood up calmly, my face drained of all emotion. I couldnt quite place if the pain I felt was from the betrayal of no jollof, or the war going on in my stomach. I picked my gift and started walking towards the door (the things I can do for jollof, oh!!), then I began to think about "WWJD"...What Would Jesus Do?? I came back, walked up to the stage, danced with the couple, shookieed my sadness away and gave her my gift.

When I saw that usher, the one who made my testimony incomplete, the one who betrayed my trust, who tried to test my love for jollof, I chose not to get angry. I purposed in my heart not to say anything to her. But In my mind, I just kept repeating the song CHIGURL taught me.

"You can't do more than a hanging shimi
You can't do more than a hanging pant,
You can't do more than a hanging trouser
Hanging...ha....ha....ha...hanging!!!!"


I woke up from this nightmare!!! It was all a dream!! Affliction shall not rise a second time. 
I will attend that wedding next week, and eat JOLLOF!!!

JustVikkytorya

3 comments:

Unknown said...

Well crafted piece......laughing violently

Eno William said...

This girl. You are gifted. Nice one.

Unknown said...

Abasi-mbok forgive Victoria for making me laugh till I piss on my Landlord's cover-shoes 👞