I was in traffic along Iyana Ipaja and I saw a pawpaw hawker offload his
pawpaw, walked over to one side of the road, pulled down his zipper,
brought out this wiwi and began scattering urine on the concrete.
He
didn’t even care that it was daylight and people were passing. I was
seated by the window and I could see his thing in full view. What
infuriated me was the manner he held it as though he was potty training.
The
urine had rolled towards his fingers and was dripping from his thumb.
When he had relieved himself, he shook it a few times as tiny droplets
splattered on his trousers before he picked up his tray of freshly
peeled pawpaw from the road.
My microscopic eyes were still on him
when our vehicle started to move as soon as the traffic gave way.
Another vehicle maneuvered to where we once parked and an unsuspecting
lady in the front seat called the hawker for pawpaw. I slowly turned
away.
If you follow my Twitter or my Facebook page, you must have read the post I made on the dirty iya basira I met.
For
those who didn’t read it, I went to buy food one early morning and
beside where the food was, a woman was brushing her teeth vigorously and
making those ‘crogggggg crogggg’ noise. That froggy noise of trying to
gag mucus from the pit of the belly. I was so disgusted!
I took my
food flask and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. The dirty woman
was holding her brush in one hand with toothpaste foam that had formed
moustache and beards, shouting.
“Sister! Come back na”
Because what she was doing was perfectly normal. After all, I was the hungry one that wanted N250 rice, not her.
I
don’t even want to go into details of market women that will be selling
ewedu in a stainless pot and beneath the table, their kids/toddlers are
shitting ewedu on the floor. And they think its cute!!!
Because both colours match.
There is also an Northerner next door that makes bread and egg every morning.
6:45am, you would see him putting one hand on the waist and using the other hand to scratch his joystick like recharge card.
6:50am,
he is beating an egg for an unsuspecting customer. You’ll ask for only
salt and pepper in your fried egg but end up getting fried eggs with
spices like a drop of sperm, dried urine and one or two strands pubic
hair.
I wasn’t surprised when I heard someone purge for two days after having his bread and egg.
It’s now a crime to eat bread and egg outside. Common agege bread.
My
brother has sworn never to buy sachet fanice yoghurt/ice-cream ever
since he saw an Northerner using the scissors to shave his beards under a
mango tree.
Probably the same scissors he uses to trim armpit hair.
And he thinks it’s okay.
Unlike
my brother, I don’t have the willpower to stop patronising them. Cos
N100 fanice is my on-the-go-icecream, until coldstone Ice-Cream or sweet
kiwi yoghurt is slashed to N200 per cup.
I am patiently waiting.
These
are my most recent encounters with food vendors and road side hawkers.
Eighty percent of the time, I eat out. (for personal & complicated
reasons)
It’s not Eko Hotel Buffet, KFC, Chicken Republic or Sweet
Sensation cos I don’t wash Eko Hotel toilet after eating. I cut my coat
according to my size and go for the Iya Basira at your backyard and it’s
frightening I would never know what goes on among these food vendors
behind closed doors.
“Stir the jollof rice oh, add five teaspoon
of thyme, add pepper, add one basin of well water, add the meat from
yesterday’s gbegeri, add three cubes of white maggi, one cube of knor,
oya add two spoons of lassa fever…”
Pause.
I spent a lot of money on medication from food poisoning in December. Twice.
Anyway, I can’t wait to make money so I can ‘manage’ KFC for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
http://www.naijasinglegirl.com/before-they-kill-me/
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