Jollof Rice

Two Become One Problems: Who Ate My Rice?!

If you think you’re the most selfless person that ever lived, I dare you to move into a house full of people and promise to be there for you when you realise just how selfish you really are. Don’t judge yourself too harshly though, communal living brings out the worst in us all. The manifestation of your selfishness will take different forms but today, we’ll be focusing on food.

A couple of days ago, I had a Facetime date with one of my girlfriends. At some point during the conversation, I noticed her opening up cupboard after cupboard, making a right racket. I almost died laughing when she confessed that she was looking for somewhere to hide a packet of biscuits from her husband! I couldn’t judge her though because heaven knows I have on occasion, rushed home from work to make sure I got to the leftovers in the fridge before my Yoruba boy. First come, first served!

Thanking you very much for your prayers, it will be well.

When you live with people, the contents of your fridge develop hands, legs, wings, propellers and all sorts of agents of transportation. But when you get married, it’s a whole new ball game. You see, when you live with strangers or even siblings, you can set boundaries. The boundary lines might be crossed by the brave amongst them but when you’re screaming at your sister for eating the bowl of rice you left in the fridge, you will feel justified. Try screaming at your husband when (and not if!) he eats the bowl of jollof rice you left in the fridge and if you don’t feel foolish as the words are flying out of your mouth, I envy you!

You see, the concept of two becoming one creates all kinds of problems in a home. It implies that what’s mine is yours and vice versa. There’s no more me, it’s now us. It means you cannot claim sole ownership of ANYTHING , especially things in the fridge, after all, OUR money paid for them. Never mind who journeyed to the supermarket, who stood sweating over the cooker and took the initiative to pack up the leftovers. All that one is for your pocket. Na who carry sense go market na him dey chop bellefull! In other words, you snooze you lose!

jollof

There are few things more painful in life than spending all day dreaming about the jollof rice in your fridge only to get home and find out it is no more. Such was my fate the other day. If not that shame would not have allowed me to cry, I would have wept for England. Alas, these are some of the problems that arise when two people are targeting one bowl of rice.

I have learnt my lesson.

I’m up and out of the house before my Yoruba boy gets out of bed so if there’s anything in the fridge I’m feeling particularly proprietal about, I get in there and take it to work with me. I will leave him to come up with his own strategy.

Every man for himself, God for us all!

xXx

Waila

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The Arik Experience: Goodbye London, Hello Lagos!

39,000 feet above ground and bored as a scarecrow in a deserted field. The inflight entertainment is playing up so I can’t watch any of the movies on offer and thanks to my die hard resolve to wash my hair before leaving for the airport, I didn’t have enough time to download any movies to my iPad.

I’m on an Arik flight, first time ever. Snob that I am, I was apprehensive about trying out the new airline on the block but na condition make crayfish bend. My funds were not ripe enough for British Airways and as for that Virgin, don’t get me started on their extortionate fares.

I must admit, this plane is impressive. The seats in economy (promotion cometh!) have more leg room than I know what to do with. You long ones would be pleased.

Fot those of you that travel with all your worldly possessions, you’ll be pleased to know that be baggage allowance is 32kg. In this day and age, that’s stupendously generous. God bless them

The cabin crew were a lot scruffier than im used to seeing…not that i was bothered bt their appearance. Just a random observation. They are also as rude and abrupt as any others but unlike their colleagues on other airlines, lack the ability to be politely so. The ability to insult while grinning must be  added to their training syllabus. That said, Nigerians are demanding and can test the patience of a dead man. Our diva antics are out of this world ridiculous.

The plane was taxiing and a woman was still yapping away on her phone.

Air Hostess: “Madam! Please turn off your phone, we are about to takeoff!”
Woman: “Ha ha! You will give me the full gist when I come. What of that guy from before?”
Air Hostess: “Madam, turn off your phone!”
Woman: “I’m already on the plane, we will soon take off.”

Even my patience was tested. It took…

Sorry, I was just interrupted by the sound of the most ridiculous attempt at an American accent I’ve ever heard. I’m not a member of the “thou shall not speak fone” brigade but if thou must, thou must do it well.

…the air hostess raising her voice to deafening levels for the woman to obey. Terminating the call, she calmly addressed the hostess.

“It’s like something is wrong with you. Did someone annoy you before you came to work this evening?”

LMAO! Some human beings are just not normal.

The elderly man two seats to my right has spent the last half hour moaning about how sub standard the service on this flight is. He is especially upset that he was only given a tiny  glass of red wine.

“Why can’t they give us those little bottles other airlines give? Why are they rationing the thing, is it communion?! I need to get tipsy so I can sleep well.”

The woman next to him is irritated because the crew did the coffee round before serving the tea she was desperate for.

“I don’t know why they can’t serve the two together. Is it not two hands they have?”

If I had a pound for every time she has hissed in the last two hours, I’d have enough money to pay the £300 difference and hop on Mr Branson’s plane.

Another man in the association of moaners is upset because he doesn’t like the selection of movies on offer. “When I flew last weekend, it was the same set of movies, this weekend too, the same.”

The person behind me is snoring like he is propelling the engines of this plane. How is a girl supposed to get some sleep when no one will shut up?!

The food is WACK! My friend IB had told me stories about how nice the jollof rice on the flight is but this jollof wannabe I am eating is like poison. The bread roll is rock hard and this cheesecake isn’t worth a mention. The only edible thing is the salad. Sigh.

Arik have a reputation for taking African timing to another level but thankfully, my flight left on time. I’m grateful for small mercies.

Time to sleep. Don’t know what internet access will be like out there so I’m not holding my breath. Blogging while I’m there is highly unlikely…or maybe I’m just a lazy fart.

xxx
Waila