"LET US TAKE BREAD TOGETHER."
By Bass.
By Bass.
It was one of those times. End of term. Everyone was as broke as M.C. Hammer. Seriously, things were rough. Even kpako sticks (cabin biscuits), garri and all those other provisions that usually lasted till the last days had dried out. The few people (very very very few indeed) who still had a little sumthin� had no qualms with looking you straight in the eye, boning up and frankly stating �Sorry but I can�t spare.� That is if at all they even owned up to having any.
On this fateful day, we had just about had enough. It was during the Muslim fasting period so the Muslim students were allowed access to the kitchen to keep their water. However, not only Muslim students took advantage of this. Everybody did. After all, who was to say who was and who wasn�t Muslim?
In our hungry and dejected state of mind, we decided to go the kitchen to get some cold water to drink hoping that would �hold� us till our moi-moi and pap breakfast the next morning. However, the events of that night took a very fulfilling turn.
As we went to the fridge to get the water, we noticed that the kitchen storeroom had been secured with a somewhat feeble and questionable looking padlock. All we needed was a sturdy knife and we could turn the padlock into a ho� ready to open for anything. This usually happened after a padlock had been carefully jacked once.
With me scoping the doorway and ensuring that the coast was clear, my two friends set to work jacking the lock. It didn�t take time. The padlock was an easy lay. A real weakling.
What did those cooks take us for? Using padlocks like that to insult our intelligence�
As we entered the store� low and behold, it was the land flowing with milk and honey- Loaves upon loaves of bread. Well, the issue now was how to transport the bread to a more favorable location without sabotaging ourselves.
This was tricky.
There were prefects and other very agile seniors studying and hanging out in the dining and there was no way to exit the kitchen without passing through the dining.
Enter plan B.
We decided to open one of the kitchen windows leading outside. Two of us exited the kitchen through the dining with only our cups of cold water. Looking as innocent as ever. Then we turned around and waited at the other side of the window for our other friend to hands us the goods. She handed us the goods. Several loaves of bread and a few cans of sardine for jara. Then she also exited the kitchen through the dining. Head up, shoulders high, back straight, eyelids unbatted.
She met the rest of us on the outside and we relocated to a safe haven to consume our very skillfully acquired meal. This was just the beginning of a long sequence of gourmet meals hosted by Queen�s College without her knowledge.
