DANIEL: I know some people might wonder if this wasn't the same girl I had planned to woo to my bed. Yes, it's the same girl. But my mission doubled when she made me feel like an infidel back in the hall. I saved her from such a big disgrace, yet she deprived me of a simple ‘Thank You’; she shoved it right back at my face. For that, she must pay.
First, I would make sure I frustrate all her efforts, and then finalize things when I get her on my bed.
We all watched as she looked around for a clean pot, and then attempt to lit the gas to prepare a bowl of fruit salad! Hahahaha... fruit salad! Was she actually going to cook it!?
NADIA: Imagine yourself being asked to do something you don't even have an idea of, just because of your oversabi.
I was dangling with pots and frying pans. The hall in which we had assembled was equipped with every cooking utensil. I could hear giggles from behind me when I lit the gas cooker to put a pot of water on it.
"She is actually going to cook us a bowl of fruit salad."
Brenda said as everyone burst out laughing, like they had been holding it in for long. “What’s wrong?” I asked myself.
I was going to cook of course; I was perfectly sure that when I was done, they would all end up in the hospital.
"Nadia, you don't cook fruit salad, you prepare it."
I really didn't understand what she meant until she gathered lots of fruits and carefully sliced them into a bowl.
"This is a fruit salad: A simple mixture of sliced fruits. Quite different from the normal vegetable salad you know, isn’t it?"
I didn’t pay attention, my red eyes where fixed on Daniel, when he chose not to keep his mouth shut.
"So much for the madam who can cook anything," he said aloud.
They all laughed again.
I chuckled, If only he knew who I was. There is no mischievous act I cannot perform. I was going to make him pay for this.
"Get your jotters ready! We have lots of African dishes to learn. But first of all, I would list three dishes that we would practice for the week.
Hawawshi - an Egyptian meal. It is meat minced and spiced with onions and pepper, parsley and sometimes hot pepper and chilies placed between two circular layers of dough, then baked in an oven.
Funkaso - a Nigerian dish of millet pancakes, containing millet, butter and sugar. Best taken with a cup of tea.
Banga soup - widely eaten in Nigeria and Cameroon. It’s a soup made from palm nuts, and it's primarily eaten in the southern and mid-western zone.”
I wasn't really paying attention at all. In fact, I was getting bored with the whole talk; let's just get to the practical stuff.
She paused and made sure she had our full attention before she added;
"I want you all to pay absolute attention, because at the end of every week, there would be an inter-group challenge, and any of you might be chosen at random to prepare these foods.”
As soon as my ear picked that, it stood at full attention. What if they decide to pick me?
When Brenda was through with her lecture, she gave us a two hour break. Immediately, I stood up and quickly caught up with him;
He stopped, and I could see how his expression brightened; he smiled.
"It seems I have offended you, please I’m sorry."
He was about to say something but I was quick to hug him. When I was done with my mission, I attempted to let go but he held on to me, sniffing my neck like those Calabar dogs who sniff expired bones.
His grip was becoming too tight, perhaps too passionate. Before eyes began to linger on us, I pinched his arm and got myself free.
“Stupid boy! You want to tap current you did not pay for?” I said in my mind, but as usual, I smiled at him.
"I need to go now," I said and made sure he turned to go before I called out, "Hey Daniel, your short is torn o; I can see your ass from over here!"
He was shocked.
He grabbed his butt to discover his trousers had torn open.
Earlier in the day, I had snatched a blade from my talkative roommate and gently put the big line down his trousers. This guy did not even put on a boxer shorts, bad for him, perfect for me!
Continued on next page...
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