{"id":207,"date":"2019-09-02T12:55:25","date_gmt":"2019-09-02T12:55:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/lagossazzylawyer.com\/?p=207"},"modified":"2024-06-10T10:03:11","modified_gmt":"2024-06-10T10:03:11","slug":"the-tale-of-mother-hen-aka-ediye","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/the-tale-of-mother-hen-aka-ediye\/","title":{"rendered":"THE TALE OF MOTHER HEN aka EDIYE"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\t\t\t\t\n

Monday, September 2nd<\/sup> 2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dear Diary,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is the story of EDIYE<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

*People always ask why I don\u2019t\neat chicken, I lie it is a medical condition, but we both know it is more than\na medical condition, it is my sheer hatred for wicked chickens that lay devilled\neggs. The medical condition only came later*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Haa Sazzzzzzy<\/em>! Almost three decades and I just can\u2019t forget this hatred I have for roosters. Let me walk back memory lane.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was seven or maybe eight\nyears old. I remember mum always package us to granny\u2019s place to have some\nbreathing space. Who would blame her? Granny lived a few streets away, and mum\nhas four kids to top it all, Sazzy as tiny as she was and still is, was one of\nher children. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Growing up, going to Granny\u2019s place was heavenly as it was a day to skip mum\u2019s unending Ten Commandments that flowed with many eye movement and body language. It was also a day to be unruly without restraint. Oh, how I miss my Granny. Iya Eli<\/em>, Wuraola<\/em>, a mother made of titanium love. With Granny, there were no rules, no fear, nothing but a world of dangerous freedom without cane. I relished in too much freedom as a child, I was spoilt to pieces with the altogether self awareness of my person as a child with rights which UNICEF child-to-child network program was good at chanting every Friday in primary school. These rights I will never churn out to my mother as she was Abacha<\/em> twin sister, but will dictate to my Granny who didn\u2019t even need UNICEF to teach her what she already gave me as her beloved grandchild. Just like others I dare to say I was her favourite grandchild (All these na lie, Granny took this secret of favourite grandchild to the grave).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Saturday were a-no-consequence day. I spent them doing only God-knows-what. I remember our part of surulere then was a cluster of no fence houses and those who dared to even have one; I don\u2019t even know why they did, as a child I could climb those fences to reach out to my friends. We all normally knew ourselves as *confraternity of mischievous grandchildren<\/em>* on holiday or around for the day to constitute nuisance. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Granny\u2019s house was very big with this big space to the front and unending expanse of land at the back. The back had a well, I was forbidden because trust now, *I short well well<\/em>.* We also had two apple trees. I don\u2019t even see those kinds of Nigerian apples anymore and the best part was, the neighbour whose child was an actress, his one-storey adjoining Granny\u2019s house at the back after our playground, had this ever gracious fruit bearing banana tree that will not stop bending over into our own compound. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The man will shout and scream\nthat we have come again to eat and destroy his Bananas, but his shrieks was the\nspark of our fun. If Baba never shout, it was almost as though the Bananas were\nnever tasty enough. His frustration was real mehn, as he couldn\u2019t cut down the\ntree because the best part or I think the surviving part of the tree was always\ngrowing over our fence. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I use\nto think we were wicked, I never knew Granny always paid him off for all our\nexploits (He got his land from her) which made him a constant complainant (The\nman is an unforgiving soul). It got to a point that we got used to his shout\nthat we do not even answer him. We would rather spread the mat on the floor and\nhave a picnic as though the man was just a buzzing fly. On our menu was iced\nwater and blackcurrant tasty time in one of Granny\u2019s transparent plastic jug, whatever\nsnack my mum packed for us, our freshly plucked apples and of course Baba\u2019s bananas,\nwhich we cut in a merciless manner, ripe or unripe. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before he would turn round from his street into ours, his mere sight would let our elder cousins know his reason for coming. They will quickly alert us and help us wipe out all evidence. The one that use to pain me the most in the matter was, they will collect the bananas from us. Our aunt would inspect our mats and show Baba Banana we had no bananas with us, he would be showing my aunties the part of the tree that was freshly cut, everybody would act like he was insane (all the while I and my sister Amope will just be thinking *let this circus end and let us cut fresh ones o<\/em>*) when he leaves, the backyard was too big for anyone to even be doing monitoring spirits and the fact that they were all too grateful we did not disturb them, when everything becomes calm again, I mean *Baba Banana has carry him wahala and go<\/em>*, we would have cut fresh set of bananas by climbing the fence. Before he goes 360 degrees back to his house, as crossing the border of one long street to the other was quite a hurdle, I would have enjoyed the glory of seeing his toothless angry child shout like a maniac with his altogether nonsense eagerness to report us to his father as I cut another branch while sticking my tongue out. Granny was darn sure we ate them Bananas, others never had proof and those who did, were bloody accomplice. The highlight was we would have the best time of our lives make the man watch us from his backyard, while his wife and actress daughter laugh. His wife was my friend. She never had a problem with us having them Bananas, I really don\u2019t get what Baba Bananas and his son problem was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aaaahhhh!!!! I remember another beating of my life because of this same Banana, I will write the story another day. Today\u2019s own is for *Ediye<\/em>*.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As a\nchild, when the option of taking Baba\u2019s bananas was no longer appealing, my\nattention goes straight to the chickens. Who owns them? I don\u2019t know. Why there\nwere in Granny\u2019s compound? I don\u2019t know. How may chickens and chicks they were?\nI actually don\u2019t even know. Now, they were not towards the back of the back\nwhere Baba Banana trees leaned, the location of this big helpless cage was to\nthe east of Grandma\u2019s backyard. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now, Mother\nHen was always caged in her own compartment, but her chicks were always out in\nthe open. (I must state that her chicks were always without end) I never knew\nwhere the older chicks went neither could I phantom who took them. All I recall\nis that more than once I saw Mother Hen eggs hatch and out the new chicks came.\nI thought this creature were a powerless helpless one and I, being a humanbeing,\nI can do all things as I like. I learnt my lesson from experience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Whenever\nI am without my sisters to play picnic or for any reason skip school because I\nfell sick, or days I throw serious tantrums and chose not to go to a party (I\nhated parties as a child), mum will just drop me off to enjoy my Granny\u2019s\nprotection program and go do her thing with other willing children. As soon as\nGranny takes a nap, I immediately get bored and jobless. I will just dash down\nto the big cage with many compartments and begin my onslaught. My favourites\nwere the chicks. I will pick the chicks by their wings and start flinging them.\nThe way they fall and struggle to stand amused me a lot. I could do this the\nwhole day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sometimes\nI will take a sitting position and begin to pamper chick by chick, rub them to\nsleep and place them in the above compartment and leave to sleep too. Other\ntimes, I will line them up while wielding a cane as though I needed them to\nform a straight line and be ready for school.  I could go as far as using the cane to wake\nthem up and cause chaos in the chicks\u2019 cage, while I use the cane to sweep them\nout and then turn each chick that can\u2019t run so fast or doesn\u2019t get the gist of\nmy game to a football. It was mad fun. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The best of my wicked act was when I pricked their feathers, like I see my mum do when she pours hot water on the already slaughtered chicken. No one told me you only needed to do that after they have been slaughtered. How can they not tell me this golden rule? The only problem I had, but failed to notice was that all the while I was playing, Mother Hen sat on her other eggs and watched me with her 5HD lens<\/strong>. She mentally wrote down all my deeds day by day. She charged and prosecuted me in the court of animal kingdom every blessed day and won the trial. She got her verdict to inflict grievous bodily harm on me and all the while I thought Mother Hen had no brains, like they say chicken brains. I failed to understand Mother Hen was also a mother and hated my guts and all I did for fun to her chicks until that fateful day, was a WRONG SHE COULD NEVER FORGIVE.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

My dear\npeople of God, it was a day in September I will never forget. A day before that\nday Mother Hen dealt with me, I was alone with her and her chicks. I pricked\nthem and beat them ehn, I even kicked them. Mother Hen was flying up and down\nin her cage and all the while I was just happy she was just being an animal reacting\nto me unlike her docile self. I also failed to see that there was something\nawful about my acts and she was not having it. My elder cousin more than once\ndragged me away from the cage area and even Grandma made me sit beside her till\nMum picked me up that day. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just\nbecause I was not satisfied with my playground a day before, immediately I\ndropped from the car the following day, I went straight to the side of the\nhouse passing Granny\u2019s shop. The skilful way I disappeared ehn, my mum was so\nscared I didn\u2019t even know she was suspicious of me and was a few steps behind\nme. (I forgot to mention, my mum is better than CIA when she wants to nab you\nin the act). This maternal instinct of my mother saved my flesh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I did not even know my cup of Mother Hen\u2019s anger was full and runneth over. Ghen, Ghen<\/em>, that was how action movie of my September to remember began.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dear\npeople of God, I stormed into the back like Van Damme and the first set of\nchicks I saw, I used my leg to fling them in many directions, which felt really\ngood. I saw them scatter like kites in the air. What my eyes failed to see was\nthat mother hen was just a few meters away, NOTcaged. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This life is wicked sha. No one even told me chickens can fly and fight. Another golden rule, I did not even need National Geography for. (This chicken experience made me embrace channel 181 and 182 with my life – man must know what we’all getting ourselves into) <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh\npeople, the last thing I saw was that Mother Hen flew, hovered over me, with\nclaws and beak causing me many many physically big big pinch. I smelt the\nstench of anger in the air from this beastly creature. I was raced to the\nground by this chicken and for all the time I caused her chicks the pricks, her\nbeak did wonders to me. I cried and screamed and shouted Grandma, before all of\nmy help cometh from the Lord through my own mother, Mother Hen melted down\ncomplete vendetta of the entire verdict she got from the court of animal\nkingdom. I passed out for a few seconds or maybe I closed my eyes really tight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My\nmother used her bag to heavily wade the Hen away from me while she picked me\nfrom the floor. My mother picked Mother Hen by her wings like I do to her\nchicks and forcefully threw her in her compartment of the cage and locked it.\nAll the while, she secured my safety behind her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As old\nas I was, I saw the chicks I use to fling with my feet and pick with my hands\nand I got so apprehensive, I jumped on my mother. They all resembled monsters\nand I had Goosebumps all over my skin. I didn\u2019t come down from my mother\u2019s body\no. My mother lifted me into my grandma\u2019s room as I held onto her with my life, where\nbetween their laughs and my cries we explained it all. Actually, those who\nheard my scream and came out, didn\u2019t see what happened. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My\nmother told the tale as though it was a mixed-up emotions. My mum thought I was\noff to the apple trees and I came in the way of Mother Hen and her chicks. With\nthe way my mother said the story, I knew I was forgiven for whatever wrongs I\nhad committed that morning, but my cousins laughed out loud. My mum didn\u2019t get\nthe gist. I hugged my Granny close and whispered into her ears not to tell my\nmum all I use to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mum\nsuggested they clean up my wounds and I take paracetamol and rest a while.\nThen, she remembered to tell my Granny I didn\u2019t eat my breakfast and she should\nmake me eat it before the drug. By the time they opened the cooler ehn, it was\nrice and chicken wings. While everyone saw boiled rice, stew and chicken wings,\nall I saw was rice, Mother Hen and her beaks on me. I screamed and pushed the\ncooler crying. This was where my hatred for chicken started. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I couldn\u2019t step outside the house. The Banana man\u2019s bananas rested for a while (In fact, he once asked Granny if I was sick \u2013 the man was just all *gragra<\/em>*). In fact, I was glued to my granny whenever I had to go to her place. The situation was so bad, for my sake, Granny made a law of no animals\u2026\u2026and all adhered to it. The cage was removed, every form of chicken expelled from Granny\u2019s house and adjoining property. If my older and even younger cousins wanted me to behave, all they needed to do was say *Ediye<\/em>* meaning *chicken*. My state was a sorry one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It took\nme a very long time. A very very long time to be able to look at a chicken\nagain and not be scared for my life. In fact, chicken tasted more like bread in\nmy mouth and if I even dare to eat it today, it has to be really roasted\nmehn\u2026.then, I can tell my brain, Mother Hen has been crucified in the fire,\nshe\u2019s dead, you can eat it now. I will quickly throw it in my mouth and\nswallow. But, if I have the right of option, just give me fish or *Malu* meat\nabeg! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Till\ndate, I can\u2019t even go close to a chick and I can\u2019t tolerate a live chicken. All\nmy body will just stand up as if something is about to harm me. Dear Future\nHusband, if you mistakenly like chicken and you even goan think that I will\ncook it for you, YOU ARE ON YOUR OWN. your best option is frozen chicken. No\nlive chicken will enter my house. NEVER! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ok. Its\nMonday and while I sit here waiting for a doctor\u2026.i finally got the time to\nwrite about Ediye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

THE TALE OF MOTHER HEN aka EDIYE<\/p><\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Monday, September 2nd 2019. Dear Diary, This is the story of EDIYE *People always ask why I don\u2019t eat chicken, I lie it is a medical condition, but we both know it is more than a medical condition, it is my sheer hatred for wicked chickens that lay devilled eggs. The medical condition only came…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[12],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-207","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-dear-diary"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/207","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=207"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/207\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":244,"href":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/207\/revisions\/244"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=207"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=207"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oluabikoye.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=207"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}