By Hassan Taiwo Soweto
I got a shocker today. On my way back home after another tiring experience transversing the disorganized, chaotic, traffic-prone and pot-hole filled landscape of Lagos State I decided to pay a visit to my favorite restaurant at least to take a break from home-cooked meal.
I came at the right time.
The restaurant’s special delicacy – amala – had just arrived on the serving shed resplendent in all it’s dazzling glory and oozing heat like the surface of an active volcano. There she was. The light complexioned pretty lady who always without fail beam with smile each time I stepped into the restaurant. She would abandon all customers and motion to me to make my order even if a thousand others were there before me. It started gradually and imperceptibly. At first I thought I was only lucky. Later, a pattern became obvious. No matter what she was doing, no matter how many serving ladies were available, she would leave everything to take my order. I suspect that the other serving ladies already know not to try to serve me. This is Idayat’s only customer.
I had not been there in about 6 months. So the smile was a lot wider. The teeth appeared whiter too. Bright, welcoming eyes. The kind that makes you feel at home even while miles away from home. I answered her greetings nonchalantly and ordered a takeout. When would she get it that I have left the “sinful world” as Sir Sho Adeola Soetan always say. Moreso, when …
“How many Amala?” Idayat’s voice rang out sending me spinning out of my midday reverie. “Three” – I replied, avoiding her eyes. She opened her mouth, made a face, batted her eyes rapidly. I pretended to be captivated by the blank surface of my android phone. Then she turned round to begin to dig into several large basins on the serving shed. What’s with the face? I thought. I grabbed my food hurriedly and left with her eyes digging a hole in my receding back.
Well, it was only after I got home that I realised that what I took for flirtation was Idayat way of warning me that the amala of today is no more the amala of yesterday. To my chagrin, I discovered that the three wraps of Amala I was planning to fill my belly with were not up to the size of one wrap I used to buy six months ago. Idayat, God bless her soul, had batted her eyes wondering how a grown man could order for three wraps of amala in this economy but I wasn’t paying attention. Now I have since eaten yet I am terribly hungry and angry with myself.
Next time I should pay attention to Idayat eyes. Next time I should return her smiles. Some things in life are just very simple but we decide to make life hard for ourselve.
