Funke and the Ruby Grapefruit

It was one of those typical Sundays as a Nigerian living in Nigeria. If you are Christian, you will typically have gone to church and attended a church service for at least two hours. Depending on your age bracket and your family’s style, you either stop by at the market to buy food items and head home to clean and cook or you stop by at a local restaurant to have lunch. From statistics, the former was usually the case as a teenager. If you have become an adult fending for yourself, then you probably think Sunday lunch should either be made at home except you are invited over to a friend’s or relative for free food or have plans to eat out and never to be ordered.

Let us assume you are a working adult, privileged enough to own your own space and have the food items in your fridge to make that Sunday rice that you can eat over and over again. The weather is hot but you are grateful for electricity, cold water in your fridge and the opportunity to “balance” with that rice, turkey and a very “chilled drink” and hoping you get some healthy farts from the food, watch a nice RomCom on Netflix because you worked so hard the previous week and hopefully have that Sunday nap that has its own window of 2pm to 5pm because anything after 6pm is a waste of evening.

Did I mention having the air conditioner on and the fan on at the same time because you are extra and want the entire apartment to have that right amount of cold?

Well, it’s an hour and 30 minutes later. The scene is set, the food comes out just right (you gave yourself a 7 out of 10 rating) and you bring out the ‘Holy Grail’ because the drink that goes with Sunday lunch has to meet the following requirements- it must be sweet, it must be cold, and you should get at least two rounds of the glass (Any other thing is punishment).

You grab the Ruby Grapefruit juice that has a colourful pack and a picture of a pink citrus fruit on it from the fridge and pour yourself a full glass because it seems to be on the top 5 of the Sunday afternoon drink standards. After eating halfway into your meal, while facetiming your loved one(s), you start to chug down the glass of juice because you definitely have earned it only for you to realise that a Ruby Grapefruit tastes like alomo bitters.

In that moment, you drop your glass, perplexed, dismayed, partly confused and asking why the cashier did not warn you when you were paying for the juice that it was bitter.

After your moment of confusion and despair you remember you may have a saviour-the mallam just down the road who is able to put you back on track with a bottle of coke.

We suppose all is well.

 

P.s-this is purely for entertainment even though there are a few lessons to be learnt.