The Edible Reptile

Chioma
The Memoirist
Published in
5 min readMar 20, 2022

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Source- kidadl.com/monitor lizard

For the last few days, I have felt withdrawn. This was unusual for my boisterous personality. Every morning, I dreaded waking up, wondering when this plague would end.

On this rainy Saturday morning, I sat in the backyard watching the water slap against the metallic zinc roof of my father’s bungalow. I was enjoying my own company as I ignored the looming thought of the Saturday cleaning.

My mind wandered to how Ijeh, my sister, must have already taken the bucket and brush. She wakes up early, gets her scrubbing done before everyone else, and then gloats about how she is the most hardworking and should receive a prize.

I was still lost in thoughts when Chika, my other sister, interrupted. Her face was sullen as she announced that she wants to use the bathroom. The bathroom is shared by a family of 10 so you have to state it loudly, to safeguard your turn.

I wasn’t bothered as I had already taken a shower. I do before everyone else because I can’t have my well-known secret revealed.

Next, I heard my mother scream my name.

“Ngozi, Ngozi”, my mother shrieked.

“Ma” I shouted back, jolting back to reality, tying my Nigerian wax wrapper over my breast, and hurriedly walked to meet mum.

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