First of all, HAPPY NEW YEAR! Gosh, I am so excited for 2015 and I have a million things to tell you all, but I’ll do that in a different post. Today is a continuation of The Secret Life of a Foodie series, where I reveal random/weird/funny stories – all 100% true – about myself and my life. If you haven’t read Pt 1 (The origin of Tatashey) and Pt 2 (The First Time I Cooked For Bae), you are wrong. Go and read it NOW. Here’s part 3.
A bit of context
In Nigeria (and everywhere else probably), when you reach high school age, you either go to boarding school or day school.
And in Nigeria, boarding school is more popular because parents can’t stand their kids. High school is known as secondary school and it lasts 6 years, which is a combination of the 2 years of middle school and 4 years of high school. The first three years are JS1, JS2 and JS3 (Junior Secondary School 1-3) and the last 3 years are SS1, 2 and 3 (Senior Secondary School 1-3). Now that you have a better understanding, let’s get to my story.
My first 2 years of secondary school were – how do I put this gently – irritating. After primary/elementary school, I decided to act like a sheep and follow the crowd by going to one of the new and popular schools in Lagos. I was young and a lot of my friends were going there, and even those who couldn’t go because their parents wouldn’t let them were envious. So I enrolled and in my mind, I was officially chasis (an old slang, meaning “cool”). But it wasn’t until after enrolling that I realized that the school had 3 peculiar characteristics. It was:
- All girls
Loosely translated, this means:
If you went to an all girls catholic day school and you are offended… LOL.Give me a break, you know I’m right.
I was a trouble maker so you can only imagine the number of times I got sent on working suspension (i.e. a type of punishment where you forgo your classes and take on tasks like cleaning, washing, cooking, cutting grass etc). For some reason I always served my working suspension in the kitchen and by the time I switched schools, I hardly knew my teachers but I was on a first-name basis with most of the kitchen staff. Needless to say, it wasn’t working out and I switched to a mixed, non-denominational boarding school after JS2.
The new semester rolled around and it was time to start boarding school. I was PUMPED! No longer would I be home alone, bored because none of my friends lived near me. Now I would be living with my peers. No longer would I have to sit, kneel or stand through hours of Mass like
…Or sometimes pretend to have diarrhea so I could sleep in the bathroom till it was over.
But most importantly, there would be boys.
My parents drove me to school on a Sunday, the day before classes started and I think they were a bit emotional about leaving me in school. My mom especially kept lingering around, trying to help me unpack my stuff and settle in to my room, but I was all like
On Monday, I dressed up early, ready for breakfast. Being the new kid, I didn’t know my way around yet, but I eventually found the cafeteria after a few minutes of wondering. To my annoyance, I realized that there were assigned tables in the hall, so I did what any new kid would do: I stood around awkwardly till a teacher came to ask me, not-so-politely, what the hell I was doing. I told him that I was new and he found me a seat on a table with nine JS1 boys. Bleh. Was there no table with hot senior boys? Anyway, I was too nervous and hungry to care so I sat down and observed the “feast” before me. Bread, margarine, jam, corned flakes and 2 jugs with some sketchy looking liquid that I assumed to be milk.
The all girls catholic school was looking pretty good to me at that point as I realized that this would be my life for the next 4 years. I looked around the cafeteria, slightly confused, wondering why no one was crying or upset at the sore sight of this thing they called breakfast. Where were the eggs? And bacon? No sausages? Was there even a toaster for my bread? Perplexed, I turned back towards my table to find that my toaster problem had in fact been solved. There was no need for it any longer because the boys had finished the loaf of bread.
Madness. I had only turned around for 3 seconds! What kind of hungry monsters were these? But there was nothing I could do, so I reached for a bowl and poured some corned flakes. The first milk jug was empty so, I got the second and poured the off white liquid into my cereal. I grabbed my spoon, sighed, and dug in.
EUGH! What is this? Isn’t corn flakes meant to be crunchy? So why is this soggy?? I wanted to cry. I was hungry and there was no alternative so I became visibly upset. The boys on my table noticed and started giving me the side eye like
So I composed myself and took a second bite.
And a third.
Then it dawned on me:
There was tea in my cereal.