When we were younger, my elder brother wasn’t very nice to me. He always wanted me to do household chores and seemed to have his way most of the time.
I remember one evening, I was in a celebratory mood after I roasted a whole maize cob without tasting it. You see, one of the toughest temptations in life is to roast maize without tasting a few grains along the way.
But, no sooner had I finished roasting the maize, than my brother, who was perambulating around the house wanted me to cut him half the maize. I refused with bitterness and told him to roast his own. He was however adamant and after a tussle, he forcefully took away the maize, broke it into half and gave me the top part as he casually chewed the other half. You read it right, he gave me the top part!
Now, my brother broke two cardinal laws of maize roasting. First, the maize roaster reserves the right to divide it and give to whomever he wishes. Second, and most important, the maize roaster takes the bottom part of the maize never the top. I was furious and inconsolable.
My mother observed quietly as this injustice was perpetrated on me, but like the government, she did nothing. In protest, I refused to eat and I stormed out of the house.
It was at night. I hid at some distance from the house so that I could watch them as they frantically looked for me. Minutes started turning to hours and the night got darker. Now, in my village, as it gets late into the night, trees start appearing more like human beings and you start hearing the sound of your heartbeat.
After an hour or so, it was clear that no one was coming to look for me. I had to make a choice. To sleep outside or go back to the house. Looking at the human like trees and hearing my pounding heartbeat. It was an easy decision. I went back to the house.
I did not find my roasted maize. The only thing I ate that night was humble pie.
Life is life.
Fabio