[Inspired by a fascination for accents, language, dual/multi interpretations and hoping that others can make sense of my sometimes bizarre free writing]

“Life. Hmm.”
Wonder how many times that statement has been made, and what it’s been followed by
Maybe hours pondering this and that, whys and why nots. 
When you think about it , the only relevant why is “Why the hell are you pondering life when the Good Book has already told you it’s meaningless?” 
But then again, you never did listen. Did you?

Oh, what’s that? You wanna show me some att-itude, now?
Talking about “I’m a grown-ass person, I can do what I want”
Mmm-Hmm, that’s what I thought. 
Every single time you said that you ended up right back here. 
Hot charcoal pot to the side, fresh soot decorating its ears. 
And you. Looking at me with beseeching eyes. 
Here we are again.

I mean really. It’s pretty simple. What you put in, you get out. 
You ain’t no chef, and practically every stomach that done pass through this house na sabi the fact, o.
So why? Eh, why? Do you insist on this.
Insist on trying new things. On throwing caution to the wind. And undertaking such a dangerous venture?
What happened to simple rice and stew, now? 
Rice – Water on fire, dash of salt, wait till it boils, add the rice,  wait till it cooks. Rice done ready.
Stew – Small oil, onions, tomato, whatever spices you want – he! enough of the salt, o! – let it cook. Perfecto.
EH simple.

If nothing at all, at least, that one is cost-reducing. 
And though you don’t exactly “savor the delicate flavors of the scrumptious dish” you’re able to eat it no bi so? 
It’s palatable, abi?

But nooo. You want prove that you too you bi master chef! Oga for the kitchen. Who lied to you, eh?
Next thing we know, spagetti, egg, vinegar, 
But that’s not all – konkonte, kontombri, dawadawa. 
All that in one pot.
Tryna go glocal (global + local) on us are you? 
Please, where I come from, that only spells R-U-N –S-T-O

So chale, lay the fan elsewhere. 
And let the real chef take charge. 
I done watched this whole spectacle. 
And I’ve seen many cooking attempts since Adam and Eve
And if there’s one thing you people have right, it’s that too many cooks ruin the stew.
Allow. Make I handle your needs for you.
When you have ME –  Who hath it tried and tested. Who wrote the cook book saf
Why worry yourself with measuring cups and foreign ingredients? 
And so-called recipes that others have attempted?

So go sit in the living room and leave the machinations to me
I created this cooking pot of conundrums. The thing you fret night and day about
“Life.Hmm” need not be your anthem.
Make you sit down, Allow me cook up the recipe for your success
And when dinner is ready, trust me. You naa, you’ll find your way to the table.

[If you can’t make any sense of this, no probs. Guess it stays true to its title. Just hope it was at least amusing.]

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