Ladies of Hive Community Contest #207 : Flashbacks and Reflections.

This week's prompts ultimately aroused my interest reason being that, the first prompt took me down memory lane while the second prompt enables me shed a little light on that part of my home I often stay to unwind. This time, I'm going to be answering both prompts.

KITCHEN HEIST

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At that time, I was in senior secondary class two and I was offering a particular subject called food and nutrition. It was literally a criterion to carry out practicals which involved cooking various dishes, baking small chops and making fruit drinks but the fun part is this, we literally ate the fruits of our labour and being an enthusiastic foodie, I happily joined this band wagon.

At first, the practicals didn't hold as expected. As a matter of fact, we didn't have any practicals till senior secondary class two ; the fateful day that inspired this post.

One day,we had our classes as usual and after our lecture for the day,our subject teacher announced that we would be having our first practical two weeks later, the jubilation and ululations that took place thereafter can't really be described with words as it is better experienced than retold, (personally I was overjoyed because I won't be offering that subject after class two). When order was finally restored to the classroom, she proceeded to tell us that we would be baking pizza, meat pies, buns and preparing zobo (a local drink made from dry hibiscus flowers) to go along with the snacks, every student was expected to contribute some ingredients and pay a certain sum of money to enable them purchase what we couldn't bring. Calls were made to our parents and every student brought forth their contributions before the D-Day. We picked a day when we had no evening extra mural lessons so that we'd have enough time on our hands to finish our practical.

Now the twist is this, the women who ran this particular department of the college loved food a lot, they honestly didn't joke with matters of the stomach and it was already a ritual for them to cheat the students every time a practical took place. Being fully aware of the fate of our predecessors, we were determined not to allow that same fate befall us, it was going to be war.

On the D-Day, by 2:30pm, immediately after our lunch,the practical began. In a class of at least 90 students, manned by 7 teachers and our own full proof contingency plan in place, what could possibly go wrong?. Our practical hall comprised of two large rooms with a number of stoves, ovens, gas cookers, basic kitchen and baking equipments, tables, sinks and taps with running water. We were divided into 3 groups and given our ingredients, I can't recall our exact number but we were at least 30 students in each group. Within ourselves, we each identified our stronghold and began to work on it. Being already accustomed to the zobo preparation from home, I and a few members of my group undertook the zobo preparation whilst others went about mixing dough, washing meat, chopping some vegetables and slicing potatoes, infact, the scent of something sweet was thick in the atmosphere. We took the dry hibiscus flowers to the tap, washed them thoroughly to get rid of the sand, put them in a big pot that had water in it and put it on the stove to boil, when it got boiled, we brought it down to cool, sieved out the flowers from the water which had turned a dark shade of red, added sugar and voila! Zobo was ready.

Each group was given a specific quantity of ingredients to use, it was quite baffling that despite our contributions, the ingredients weren't enough, it was literally a fight for survival hence, our contingency plan went into full swing. The zobo preparation has a little twist to it, you can continuously soak the flowers in water and sieve them out till its decolorized from a dark shade of red to a very ight tone of purple. As soon as the zobo was done, we whisked some away in our personal cans and since the sugar given to us was minimal, we had to carry the tasteless zobo and present to them the one mixed with sugar, our only saving grace was the sugar we had in our dorms to mix with the tasteless one we carried.

Moving on to the part when all the ingredients were properly mixed and ready to be naked. We arranged all our snacks in ovens allocated to our various groups and patiently watched the snacks bake, as the aroma filed the room with each passing second, we chatted happily amongst ourselves. Dusk had begun to approach and we were secretly happy for we needed the cover of night for the last and most important part of our plan ; bolting with half the snacks. Well not everyone agreed to this but it was still going to happen either way, after all, the fewer we were, the lesser chance of getting found out, it was more or less a squad thing and we made sure that at least five members of our squad were in each group, we all came prepared with leather bags tucked neatly into the skirts of our uniforms along with our shirts (we didn't get to use most of the leather though). A little after 6pm, the snacks were ready, each group brought out their already baked goods from the oven and laid them out for inspection (marks were being given to us as part of our continuous assessment test). As soon as the teacher inspecting our goods went to the staff room where our records were kept to input our scores, we got to work immediately stuffing our leather bags with whatever we could lay our hands on and passing them through the window to others who were already waiting outside to literally grab the bag and run. We had a few students on the lookout and as soon as the staffs noticed the ruckus and started heading our way, they alerted us and caused a major distraction that threw the whole hall into pandemonium ( I honestly can't remember what they did). It's pure amusement when I remember the look on my teachers faces that evening,there was pure rage in their eyes because we beat them at their own game, they raved and ranted because they happened to catch a glimpse of people running away with leathers but they couldn't possibly chase them and as such couldn't identify anyone to use as a scapegoat. They were full blown furious.

Each group made a tray of pizza (which was a total disaster by the way), about 20 buns and meat pies and a pot of zobo. With our large number, we knew this couldn't possibly go round and being fully aware of the escapades of these women, we couldn't afford to go back to the dorm in tears like our predecessors.

At the end, we missed our evening meal and what we were able to salvage wasn't much because we were already jilted right from the raw materials but with the lesson we taught those women, it was totally worth it. We outsmarted them and that was all that mattered.

FAVOURITE CORNER

Considering my answer to the first prompt, I'm sure you might be expecting my favourite part of the house to be the kitchen but sorry to burst your bubble my dear reader cause it's not, I love staying on my couch in the sitting room.

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Apart from being long enough to accommodate the full length of my body, it happens to be the best angle for watching television but most importantly, it's super comfy. I know I'm just imagining things but it's like that piece of furniture knows my every mood. When I'm sad,it feels rather warm and soothing and I could just curl myself in it and drift to sleep, when I'm happy, it feels quite cool and comfortable on a whole new level.

I've had some of my best and worst memories, some of my best and most productive ideas, discovered some of my unique potentials just "idling" away during my quiet time on the couch. Being someone who always gets lost in one tumultuous thought or the other, it's safe to assume that I'm there more often than not. I'll just lay there, with my eyes closed, feeling the gentle breeze on my skin as I reminisce on the good times I've had, remembering past events that went awry, think about my present, mapping out my future and literally get swept up in time as a whole.

It might seem odd that I'm personalizing this object but that couch is more than just furniture to me,it's my best buddy and we've come a long way weathering every storm and celebrating every victory together.

THANK YOU FOR READING!