24th Dec, early 2000s.....
It was early in the morning around 7am, a time when the sky is rough with blue as if a 4years old had just painted on a white cardboard. Christmas was around the corner, and as the usual order of things, the neighborhood was noisy with lots of chicken crying for mercy. We were still young, and you know how young ones can be so passionate about Christmas chicken. Mother was going out for one more shopping before Christmas, she woke my brother and I to check on the chicken she bought some days earlier and warned us not to tamper with them, (mothers! they always know when something big is about to happen, they just don't know what, when, where and how it'll happen). All six of them were kept in a temporary home built for them at the backyard; on getting there we found one of the chicken looking sober as if it knew what will soon befall them. My brother had a thing for animals, he couldn't bare the fact that the chicken's' were soon going to become burnt offerings for our Christmas stomach, so he felt to feed them so they can at least have a Last Supper. Being a little boy and clueless about the difference between a local and agric chicken, my brother let the sober chicken out in the compound so it can at least have the last meal with freedom. Miraculously, the chicken got out of the compound and that was how the unforgettable Christmas experience started.
My brother couldn't believe his eyes, "I thought he was a gentle sober chicken, I didn't know it could fly and run so much" he said.
Luckily for us, we had friends in the neighborhood who are about our age. 5 of us gathered to start the ultimate search. It was 8:30am, the sun had risen, something has to be done and we have to be fast about it because this chicken 'must' return home before mama, if not there will be Civil War!
So we brought out a sheet of paper, draw a map of the neighborhood and set a formation. Since it's just 5 of us, we decided to use a 3-1-1 formation. As the culprit, my brother was used as a focal point, all counter attack would be directed at him (for those that don't understand the language, it means we'll chase the chicken towards my brother and he is saddled with the responsibility of grabbing it).
So we set out to the field, and pursued for long. As time went on it became more apparent that this particular chicken is determined to not lose. It started dribbling us around, playing us like ping-pong. We crawled, ran, dodged; swimming in mud; moving hither and thither like Lagos traffic, but this chicken no gree o.
10:15am and we were already covered in dust, still hoping we could lure the chicken back into the compound. The funniest thing was that the chicken did not go far but it comfortably dribbled us around the house. My brother was in tears already and we were sweating profusely a Christmas goat, the chicken on the other hand stood still from afar, staring back at us and it seemed like it was even laughing at us.
We were tired but couldn't dare to give up because if mom had returned home and found out that a chicken is missing, we would make the headline of all her discussion that year. You know mothers, if you ask her for school fees, she'd tell you to go look for her chicken and sell it to make money, if you couldn't do anything or failed in anything, she would say your brain was replaced with a chicken's. So we couldn't bear to face the civil war, we just had to bring back our chicken.
After a little while longer, we caught the chicken. I felt like slapping the idiot. I was angry and hungry; all my body joints were in tears. Mom came home almost immediately, saw that the chickens are in place for Crucifixion and she smiled, not knowing the war we fought to put the chicken in place. That faithful day is unforgettable, because the only time I managed a smile was when I ate from the chicken.
As if you knew, I ate it without mercy!!
My unforgettable Christmas experience!!
