Memoirs of Young

Memoirs of Young

Sitting in my room watching in earnest the new Korean series my younger sister bought earlier, I hear the blaring of horns loud and clear, I glance over at my siblings, I know they heard it too
Yelling for someone to pause the movie I run out full speed hoping for my brothers not to be ahead, no such luck, I see two of my younger brothers already clamouring to open the gate. All hope is not lost I think as I feel two of my younger sisters bound past me to join them. Yelling yet again, I halt my other younger siblings from taking any step further from the door, afraid they might run in the path of the car if I let them go. In all but ten seconds, the black coloured vehicle park in front of me, I rush over to the passenger side and open the door asking my dad chirpily, ”anything in the boot, daddy”, ”Koide sir” I add, opening the front door with seasoned ease I pick up all the goodies father has bought and struggle with my elder brother for the newspaper, my other older brother is at the booth carefully lifting items into the eager hands of my younger siblings as we stake claims to different items as they come out.
It is like this everytime for my siblings and I , whenever father comes back every other day. I see my younger brother Stan moving towards the generator house and as if on cue we all shout “NEPA!!!” Seeing the lights go off. Bustling into the house we separate everything and I enter my room smiling as I’ve managed to obtain a tea cake, jotter, some banana and a chunk of bread, we always like to ration even when something is in abundance, as for drinks, those need approval from mother so none of us bothers.
Settling back down and restarting the TV, my elder brother pushes his hand into my room, well our room waving a can of malt drink he has successfully taken, I and my sisters collectively groan at his trophy with my younger sister Rala saying “ehen, nor worry” which translates to no problem.
Soon as we are watching our movie, we hear mum call out “who’s there”, it’s not a question, with baited breath we wait for her to call out a name. I give up, stand up and start towards her room knowing mine is the name that’ll sound, on cue I hear my name as I push open her door after a knock. “As daddy don buy bread, what will we use it to eat, indomie is good abi?”, I think a little, indomie, tea, fried eggs, there’s sardine too so anyone”. “Oya go and start making it” she responds, why did I speak, I ask inwardly. “Also serve the pepper soup,daddy must be hungry” she adds. I turn to leave watching as she makes the face of trying to remember what instructions to add. I first take a detour to my room, for added effect, switch off the TV and start disseminating jobs, “Rala, warm up the pepper soup and arrange it”, I turn to my sister Mika and say for her start the noodles, reluctantly but excitedly they head with me to the kitchen. I begin setting up thirteen cups for tea and shout from the door of the kitchen,” who will drink tea?”, I count up to ten replies and I smirk knowing the three who didn’t were in the kitchen already.
Dinner gets ready in no time and we all find a way to sit at the dining table, it usually sits eight but of course we’ve long ago learnt to share sits or just propping a knee up a chair to get the balance needed. As with any large families, we fight over food portions and everything, using our tea cakes and fruits for desert. Not my sister April though, she’s tucked all her goodies into her school bag for tomorrow, hoping we would finish ours and she can laugh last.

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