Yey!! 😊 The weekend’s here everybody. I hope you had a fantastic week. Welcome to our weekly funspot, a little tour to the moon, right? Here we go. 🌜👨🦯👨🦼🏃🏃♀️
Today I had some early childhood memories, particularly one about eating raw mangoes 🫒🫒 while going to or coming back from school, too much alcohol for our bellies you would say 😖😂. No wonder we used to feel drowsy during lessons, oh man!! 😂😂. But eating raw mangoes with chillies and salt was the best snack our times, as Africans who grew up in the boondocks of course.
It goes then that there was this specific farm whose trees we loved to pick from (well, I wouldn’t call it stealing, we were only kids and thought all the mangoes in the village had been grown for us 😄). The mangoes from these trees were very sweet both raw and ripe.
But the owner of the farm was as cruel as a ravenous bear, one with a sore head in fact 😀. And the only relief was that the mango farm was outside his homestead. So we’d time when he wasn’t on the lookout and pick just as many as we could.
One evening, however, he gave us a rude shock. My friend Kevin and I had just come back from school and were really ‘hungry’ for the mangoes. So we passed quickly across the fence into the farm and went for one tree that was closer. We headed up straight and diverted to different branches.
It was late evening and slightly dark within the leaves. The only sound that came forth was of the wind passing through and hitting gently upon the leaves. I soon enough spotted a raw fruit close to me and would have picked it when I felt something hold me firmly. 😮
I didn’t even turn to check, I just opened my mouth and screamed blue murder. All the myths I had read about giants and pythons living on mango trees had just arrested my thoughts and sent shivers down my spine.
“Stop screaming, child. It’s me,” came forth a gentle voice amidst my scream. I turned sharply and took a glance. Oh satannn, it was the man, the owner of the farm 🙀! I almost passed out, but he held me firmly and looked directly into my eyes. I thought he was going to drag out a knife and skin me alive as I watched.
A few seconds elapsed and then…
“Is it mangoes that you want, kid?” I heard him ask, my mind far away. What sort of question was that, I thought. It was mangoes I wanted of course. “Is it?” he reiterated.
“Yes, yes sir, but…,” I began, abruptly shaken off the trance, but he sternly cut me off.
“Well, take it.” He thrust a polythene-bag full of who-knows into my hands and let me free. I remained staring blankly from the bag to him, back and forth.
“Go, child, go,” he said, “and tell your friends to allow my mangoes time to ripen.”
I sighed deeply, looked sideways to see whether I’d catch a glimpse of Kevin, and seeing him not, began racing down the tree with the bag in one hand.
Kevin was nowhere to be seen. He had probably taken advantage of the man’s attention towards me to escape. He was quite a chicken, I thought as I made my way out of the farm.
When I opened the bag and checked what was in it, I found ripe juicy mangoes piling on top of each other 🥭🤤😋. That was enough for a three-day trek to and from school. I vowed never to ‘steal’ raw mangoes again. But did I?🤣🤣
Thanks for reading. Have a fabulous weekend.
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