Childhood experiences are long-lasting, they are things we don't forget in a jiffy, especially the ones we were punished for. As a child, inquisitiveness was always there, wanting to know why things are the way they are, wanting to try everything we were warned not to. I think every child has that curiosity in them, they want to explore and do things their way not minding if it is dangerous or not. Sometimes, parents leave such children to do their wishes and bear the brunt afterward because when trying to correct them, it looks like a punishment or denial to them.
Just like every other child, growing up with a family that corrects you and when you don't listen, they allow you to do your wish and dance to the tunes yourself later. When I was 5 years of age, I wanted to try cooking, I've always loved the way I see my mom in the kitchen, going up and down and preparing different delicacies. I do say to myself "I can cook too" since I'm a girl. I believe the girl must cook. I do pay close attention to my mom anytime she is cooking, especially swallows known as solid meals. Amala is one of the meals I love eating and I love the way it is being prepared because of how it sounds when it is being stirred together.
Little did I know that there is more to making amala than it seems. I've always wanted a chance to do that at 5 years old but my mom will never give in to such an idea, I know that right and I never mentioned it to her. As the day went by, I wasn't backing down on my curiosity, every day, I thought of a way to satisfy my curiosity but my mom would not even allow me into the kitchen. Fortunately, luck shone on me, one Saturday, she had a program she needed to attend therefore she called my senior cousin to come to stay with me till she was back. That day was the best day of my life. I saw it as an opportunity to exercise my wish because I knew my cousin would not scold me the way my mom would.
After my mom left, I told my cousin I was hungry, she hated disturbance I know but I wished to frustrate her so that she could just go into the bedroom and leave me in the living room so that I could cook. Preparing Amala at age 5 was the dumbest thing I did as a child which I was proud of though I was punished for it. After telling her I was hungry repeatedly, she hissed and got me snacks then went into the room with her phone. I have mastered how to on the gas with the lighter and I could easily do that because I've tried it quite a lot of times. Immediately she stood up, I tip-toed into the kitchen, picked a small pot, filled it with water, lit the cooking gas, then climbed the stool in the kitchen to place the pot on the burner and then lit it.
I sat down, waiting patiently for the water to boil, and took a small portion out of the yam flour, immediately after the water boiled, I climbed the stool again with the small turning stick in my hand. I poured the yam flour into the boiling water and I tried turning it just the way my mom used to but I guess the yam flour was way much more than the water. I tried multiple times to turn it on but I couldn't, immediately I became scared and I called out to my cousin who had forgotten me in the living room. She rushed out thinking I had hurt myself but on seeing the mess I created in the kitchen she looked at me sternly and hissed out loudly. She yelled at me and sent me out of the kitchen, she took her phone and snapped a picture of my amala, sent it to my mom then covered it till she came back.
I knew I was in for big trouble but deeply in my heart, I was proud of myself. I attempted it but it didn't work out because I was not prepared for it at that time due to my age. When my mom came back, she looked at me for some minutes, I guess she didn't know what to say or do at that moment. After a while, she asked me to kneel in the living room raising my hands, with tears in my eyes, I knelt till my dad arrived, he happened to be my savior that night. After consoling me, he warned me not to do that again next time and that day I understood that life is in stages.
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