Read Episode 18 here
So his name was POSI, Oh I breathed a sigh of relief I thought what my friend said he was HIV POSItive, My racing heart slowed down.
Paranoia is really a bad thing I guess. I can’t imagine having a needle stick prick after all the years of being taught all the steps of universal precaution. I gave my friend such a square face that he got the point that the joke was very expensive, the fear and shock that plagued me shook me down to my bones …it could have fractured my bones. Anyways we laughed over it, how I chickened out.
The festive periods are usually one of my best periods, but since I became a house officer the festive holidays have just been bland and just been like every other day. It is that period the Jollof rice tastes better than the normal Jollof (For some reasons people said the firewood and smoke is what gives it the party jollof taste ), I really don’t understand how smoke makes food taste better and lest I forget the meat, It’s amazing how chunks of meat are cut without empathy during festive periods.
It was Ileya that period the one where they share the big chunks of meat. For some reasons I haven’t really mastered the muslim festive calendar but I was sure there was one fat meats were distributed; I think I struck gold, because my friend was a muslim, that meant more meat to my elbows.
It was a Monday if I remember clearly, he brought these awesome looking sets of meat. I hadn’t gone to the market in a while but I deciphered that this was my perfect time to prepare ram meat soup.
I went to the market and prepared a lovely pot of soup, I was having consultant ward round the next morning. I hurried up in the morning, I was careful to put the meat in the soup before I left for work to allow the meat familiarize itself with its new environment.
All through the day I kept on thinking about the meat – I was contemplating what to make rice, or spaghetti or anything to compliment my meat. I just could not wait to get back to my room. The day was over I got to my room, entered the kitchen. I opened the pot to warm my soup what I saw was a shocker.
The soup had dropped drastically, apparently the meat was deeply fried and had absorbed almost all the soup. I could not cry, I asked myself what I would do. My rice cooking hope was shattered. I had no choice than to eat the meat like that soaked with soup. At least I learnt a lesson, never leave Ileya meat in a humble pot of soup.
This series is curated by Doctor Sina; you can connect with him on Instagram here