I still recall how I visited one of my aunts and saw how she pampered their only son who had malaria.
They gave him fried rice with chicken lap and the more they begged him to eat the more the boy shouted “I’m not eating”
Inside my mind I said oboy see format eh! My mama don die for my hand today cos verily verily I must get sick tomorrow morning. Forgetting that unlike my aunt, we’re 8 in our family and I’m the last born.
Reaching tomorrow morning I started forming sickness covering blanket and shaking inside with the hope of eating chicken or drinking tea and bread.
When my mum came in and checked my eye she said “hmmm utoenyin uduk ke Akpanikô”(you have malaria truly) inside my mind “Mabasi the plan aya work” the next thing 10mins later I started hearing the sound of someone pounding mortar.
I was still trying to figure out what is happening when I overheard my father saying to my her “eka mana kippe Aran umõn ado tim sin so that akara anye idib” (pluck and pound more of the leave so that it will be enough to pump his stomach)
Na that point I realize say I don fuck up cos las las instead of chicken or tea na Aran umõn leave dem use pump my belle with this pipe👇
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