THE TESTIMONY OF A SPAGHETTO

THE TESTIMONY OF A SPAGHETTO

Someone once told me my forefathers were from Italy but then, some members of the family decided that they wanted to explore the world so I was born in Nigeria. Well, you see my species is not a normal kind; I am neither human nor beast. While humans are made from dust, we are made from durum wheat semolina, water and other ingredients which differ according to each spaghetto. You know what they say about variation in genetics; spaghetti vary in composition. In the womb that makes a spaghetto, there are various processes that the spaghetto has to go to before it can be fully formed and given birth to. For example, the ingredients are mixed, shaped and dried before a spaghetto can be fully formed and ready to exit the womb to the outside world.

I was born on 24th of Spaghettuary, 2309 by Fiki Pasta Limited. Another detail I forgot to add is that spaghetti are born in great number- ranging from 100-200 spaghetti per birth. As we came out of the womb, we were quickly wrapped in a swaddling packet to preserve us. You couldn’t know all your “birthmates” so I happened to be close to just two of them- Ranghetto and Brieghetto.

Soon, my life really began as I was transported to a place called Lagos. We were all kept in a box with no light. It was very boring but my friends kept me company. Later, we were all brought out of the box by a woman called Iyalaya. She looked very scary and I learnt she broke someone’s legs among us due to her careless handling of our packet. It was a sad day and an eye opener for us as we became aware of the imminent danger we were in.

Thankfully, a young man came to our rescue. He came, walking nonchalantly with hands in his pockets and headphones on. I was very happy and grateful to this unknown saviour. He handled the packet well and took us on a journey to his house.

At his house, he dropped our packet on a table in a place filled with strange metal bowls and a cooker. There were other humans in the house and it seemed like they were urging him to cook quickly because they were hungry. “Oh no”, I thought. It was evident that we would all die soon. The young man came inside the room we were and started boiling some water in one of the metal bowls on the cooker. Everyone had begun spending their last moments with their friends. I and my friends were saying our goodbyes amidst tears.

After some minutes, the young man came back and saw that the water had boiled. He added some salt (some way of sweetening death). He then proceeded to cut the packet with his teeth; I was not delighted to see some of his teeth. He started taking us out in batches. First, he would break the spaghetti into half then throw them into the water of their deaths. I was among the last batch and when my turn came, I closed my eyes for I was afraid to look death in the eyes.

I opened my eyes. Was I in Spaghetti Heaven? I looked around and realized I was not in Spaghetti Heaven but I was lying on the floor of the same room I was supposed to be executed in. The miraculous had happened! I had survived but without my legs unfortunately. All the same, I was alive which implied that there was still hope. On that cold floor, I wept for my brothers and then, I thought about where life would take me to next.

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