Will Nigerians be forced to eat their children to survive?

For some strange reason, the Bible is replete with stories of famines and Second Kings 6:29 tells of a particular scarcity of food in Israel; so severe it was that two women agreed to cook and eat their own sons to stay alive.

I remembered this story last night while chatting with a friend. I was complaining that I could barely afford to feed my kids due to the galloping prices of food items. I was particularly sore because I was coming from the stores where I had discovered that the cost of every single thing had gone up from three days ago.

Sometime at midnight, when everyone else was asleep, I entered my kids’ room to check on them. as I adjusted blankets and mosquito nets, I remembered those two women driven to the depths of despair and I wondered if Nigeria wasn’t headed that way already.

Suddenly I found myself wondering if push comes to shove, which of the four boys I would start with. morbid, right??

I asked myself; Who do I love most or least? Jay is my first born and the one that resembles me the most; physically and mentally. He excels in everything he sets his mind to and makes me so proud. He is considerate and kind, patient and thoughtful and a great big brother and so I need him to help me with his younger ones.

Obama is my cute dimpled Presidential baby. He is sensitive and thoughtful, very introspective. He is a hugger and has the warmest smile and he tells me he loves me at least twenty times per day. He is the first to notice a new hairstyle, freshly manicured nails and all that. He loves animals and is happy to play alone all day. He is undemanding and painfully shy and i cant imagine my life without him.

Saanmi is the life of the party. He is our in-house guitarist, drummer and all-round entertainer. He can charmingly sell ice to an Eskimo and is unashamedly manipulative. The joy on his face when i drive in after work every day is priceless. No way am i eating Saanmi to stay alive. I CANT LIVE WITHOUT HIM.

Treasure is our baby-last and a southpaw like me. He is so cute and fiercely independent. He has his whole life ahead of his and deserves to live it to the fullest.

It’s obvious I can’t and won’t eat any of them to stay alive. What was that first woman in that story even thinking; how come she agreed her son should be eaten first? She probably didn’t even get the lion share sef, tufiakwa!!

Since I am the de facto chief cook and can’t be eaten first or any time soon, that left the Head of the family. Hmmm, so I left the kids’ room to go and examine HOF as he lay sleeping. I wondered if we ate him, how long we could survive before it would be time to look for another meal and who that meal would be. I didn’t even realise i was touching his arms and legs, looking for the fleshier bits until he suddenly came awake and asked; ‘honey, what is it?’

Hmmmmm, Bubu try nah. No fall our hand oo before what happened in Israel a few thousand years ago will happen in Nigeria under your watch ooo.

TeejayDogoh