It happened.

This morning.

In my neighborhood.

I was in my usual place to get beans cake (akara).

There were a lot of people waiting. I have always thought that people don't eat akara on monday morning but my colleagues stylishly requested I get akara for them in the office.

So I stopped by to get the akara.

There was this young man who was just close to the tray eating the akara one by one.

I watched as he was eating the akara on the tray.

The woman who was selling the akara used her church mind and told him to stop, since she had already wrapped his own for him.

He said he's eating “jara.”

“Jara? And you have eaten five akara already? Don't you know beans is costly now? You will pay me for the five you've eaten. It's N250” the woman said.

“I won't pay anything. These are small ones.” he insisted, and continued to eat.

He meant it.

I believe he was looking for troublè.

So as he was about to put another one into his mouth.

The woman grabbed his hand and she mistakenly gave him a scratch on his cheek with her nail.

It was a small scratch.

She sincerely apologized.

And told him to drop her akara for her and carry his ‘wahala’ and go.

We thought that this young man had agreed to her plea, though he was the one at fault.

The next thing we saw left us speechless.

He gathered sand into his hands and poured it into the akara that was on fire and into the tray of akara.

Everyone was shouting.

What a hót tèmpered young man is this?

But he met his match there.

The woman carried the hot akara oil on the pan and poured everything on him.

Every single drop of the hot oil.

She used the sachet of salt on her table and laced it on him.

He was there scrèaming and tèaring himself apart.

His body have already started pèeling off like were they're pèeling yam.

I ran.

Everyone ran.

We all ran.

September 19, 2022.

©️ Emmanuel Nobel Okereke

Nothing hilarious about this….




More like ‘graphic’!