A long, long, time ago… in a Mzungu kitchen in a far off
land…
Where organic produce was the only option,
And grew bigger than to be expected.
Where dinner is often cooked by solar power lights because
of the shortage of electricity,
And herbs are grown in the garden outside…
Were three housemates cooking dinner.
Each busy with their part of the preparations,
In a kitchen where a gas powered stove and oven are a MUST
(due to the previously mentioned power outages).
This normal night, one housemate went to do the normal task
of lighting the oven.
Noticing that the knob was slightly turned, she thought
nothing of it and proceeded in lighting the match and carefully tossing it into
the little hole that ignites the burner.
But this was no normal night…
As the match flame neared the small hole, a surprising
fireball spit out of the mouth of the oven, seemingly engulfing the
match-lighter.
Stunned and in disbelief the match-lighter slapped her face
asking the other two, “Am I ok??”
Their response, “Yeah.
But ARE you ok?”
“Yeah. So I am not on
fire?”
“No.”
But the stench of burnt hair lingered in the air as the
match-lighter realized ALL of the hair on her right arm had been scorched off.
And proceeding to the mirror, the match-lighter, rejoiced at
the sight of her eyelashes and eyebrows.
Knowing that they only barely escaped, seeing that they had been
slightly singed.
And the three housemates in the kitchen decided not to use
the oven that night and gave thanks to the Lord for his GREAT protection.
