As a child, there were some things I saw as rare privileges reserved only for the ‘rich’. Having access to eggs was one of them. Yes, eggs, those oval shaped foods. Did I just say food? Yes, food. The ones hens and other birds lay (hen’s eggs are the most common in Onitsha where we resided).

Where did I lose you? Back to the story. I have always held those who could afford eggs in very high esteem. To me, they are very rich!

Why this notion, one may ask. The simple truth is that poor mother could only afford to buy eggs on rare and special occasion or during the festive period so they were rare. On those days, she will cut the egg into four equal parts for me and my three siblings. And when a knife was too far, she used the spoon to do justice to the egg.

On the contrary, Somtoo my friend was more privileged than me. His father was the ‘landlord’ of the two-storey building directly opposite the ‘public yard’ bungalow where I stay in a one room with mother, father and my siblings. Though his father was not as wealthy as Dangote, they were living comfortably at the last floor of the building. Somtoo would, whenever he descends from their high and mighty throne to play with us, brag about his father’s wealth and tell us how stocked his mother’s refrigerator and kitchen was, how his father buy eggs in crates and how they eat eggs with bread and tea as breakfast most mornings. True to his words, I saw him countless times at their balcony eating one whole egg and came close to tears


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https://www.thezenpens.com/2019/06/03/rare-privilege/