During my industrial training (I.T) days at Anyison Civil and Survey firm, there was a day I returned home early from work, and upon arriving, I found my aunt, with whom I was staying in her house, in the kitchen. It seemed as if she knew I would be back early, as the aroma of beans from the kitchen had permeated the house. Without changing my clothes or taking a shower, I walked down to the kitchen.
"Mummy Clinton, thank you for cooking ooo! I'm very hungry," I praised her as soon as I entered the kitchen.
She gave me a look that signalled I wasn't welcome at that hour. Perhaps she thought I had joined a bad gang that caused me to return home early. I thought she wanted to ask why I came home so early, but she remained silent and continued stirring the pot of beans on the gas cooker. I leaned close to her ear and tried to whisper some words to her, and immediately, she burst into laughter. Oh yes, I knew how to lift her from her serious and tired mood to her ever-jovial self, and I succeeded.
"Why did you come home this early today?" she finally asked with a smile on her face.
"So, you can talk now, right?" We kept chit-chatting until I saw her pick up three cubes of sugar and drop them into the pot of beans.
"Is that sugar? You put sugar in your beans?" I was totally shocked and I couldn't just keep quiet.
"Look at this village boy, don't you know that they add sugar in beans?" She questioned me back, this time dropping the spoon from her hand and turning to face me directly to get my answer.
"Sugar in beans? How? Beans already have a sweet taste, and adding sugar to it won't make it sweeter but excessively sweet, which would make it not taste like beans anymore," I explained to her, using my hands to demonstrate as if I were teaching a baby in a class.
"Kingsley, your time is up. Leave the kitchen. When I'm done and you feel you can't eat, you can go and make yourself noodles," my words seemed to touch her, and she pushed me out of the kitchen.
"In my house, my mom doesn't add 'maggi'(a season) whenever she's cooking beans because she believes beans are already sweet. How much more sugar?" I said all this as I found my way to the parlour.
At that moment, I quickly made a post on my WhatsApp status about adding sugar to beans, and two people replied that it's very normal and it'll make the beans sweeter. Haaaaa! I couldn't believe my eyes; my brain was far from comprehending the whole situation.
I calmed my nerves and patiently waited for her to finish cooking so I could taste it and see for myself.
I was still in the parlour, with my legs crossed on the table while I was busy on my phone. I saw her come out of the kitchen.
"If you want to eat, go and serve yourself, and please, don't waste it," she said as she walked away.
The curious me got up and moved quickly to the kitchen. I found the pot of beans open, with intense vapour oozing out, and at the same time, the aroma was unmatched. I took a plate, dished out a spoonful, and walked back to the parlour with my mouth blowing away the heat.
Surprisingly, I met her in the parlour, I knew tasting the beans in her presence wouldn't go well. I smiled and headed towards my room.
"If you throw away that food eeeh!" She knew what I was up to and she screamed out a warning.
I got to my room, slammed the door, sat on the bed, and took a spoonful of beans into my mouth. It was excessively sweet that I couldn't swallow. I just dropped the plate on the floor, used my leg to push it away, and laid on my bed, imagining what city people are eating all in the name of classiness.
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