Thank God it’s Friday! This is the pronouncement of all fun-loving individual after a heavy week’s work as they count from Monday hopefully looking towards the weekend. Every Friday he socialises, meeting with friends from all walks of life; lawyers who bid for bail at the court of buying, medical practitioners who handle medical cases and heavy investors who look into the market to forecast the transfer deals from one abattoir to any part of town, to mention but a few dignitaries. They converge to host dinner and merriment in one of the most expensive abattoir in town. On every of this powerful occasion, they all drink and eat, gist, argue, smile in all of their various negotiations as this is the only moment where social status in both the drinking power and ability to flaunt financial standard could be made public. The best and most sociable, the most influential and the strongest one of the pack get awarded with no special gift but a recommendation for being special amidst the caucus.
Buried in the rhythm and vibration of the moment he enjoyed so much that he drank to stupor. After every exhaustive event, it is compulsory to return home. Mr Cow couldn’t help his present state of alcohol intoxication, but had to drive himself home to meet his family. He drove so recklessly because he was so drunk that alcohol could be brewed from his reserves! A few minutes into the journey home he lost control and ran off into a nearby bush sustaining a serious injury. His injury was so much that it caught the attention of the National Emergency Management Agency (NEMA). The intervention of NEMA found Mr Cow in a coma and he was immediately rushed to the hospital of Dr Butcher; an expert in the field of medicine and surgery, from the university of piecesing and slaughtering, Abattoir city. Although Dr Butcher tried his best in rescuing Mr Cow back to life, but yet he gave up.
The news of the shocking death of Mr Cow reached his family and a sorry and mourning silence was immediately activated. The mourning went on for days as a breadwinner, a father and a loving husband is now gone to be seen no more. After all this, a family meeting was arranged on how to put up a befitting burial. After much deliberation, an agreement was reached by his extended family members on embalming the body of the deceased. A household name in the embalming process agreed on was ‘’OBALENDE SUYA’’, this organization was preferred because of its popularity and fame in the business.
As the date of the burial finally came, the ceremony had to start. The Christian wake begins immediately after the arrival of pastor Chef. Songs were rendered from the hymnal by the entourage of pastor Chef as he led the converged congregation to a session that filled the air with sober reflection. Pastor Chef went on with the program as he read the biography of the late Mr Cow, it was so touching that it made the family members and emotional visitors began crying as the eulogy of the biography touched everyone with a misty eyes as the vapor of the onions sensed their eyes of his past good works.
The burial of Mr Cow was witnessed by people from all walks of life; lawyers from abattoir chambers who bid price for bail at the court of buying were also present; all these people were part of his social class when he was still alive. Immediately after the arrival of the body of late Mr Cow, lying in state followed. People trooped out in large numbers to see him lie in state to pay him their last respect. Some peeped to see his face for the last time; some cherished the expensive stainless coffin housing his body while some were filled with uncontrollable tears of a good man travelling to the world beyond. The body of the deceased was perfumed with curry, maggi and other condimental fragrance in its category. Immediately the session for lying in state was over, the journey to the final home had to begin which was kick-started by the brigade boys. They carried different drum sticks ranging from fork, spoon, and knife as a perfect match to the size of the drums they were carrying which brought forth the sound after every strike on the flat plate drums each brigade boys were carrying. The aroma choir was not left out as they sang to make the environment lively. Five undertakers from the famous MIC casket were invited to dance the body of late Mr Cow to the cemetery. They were well dressed and had their eyes covered with finger nail spectacles. They all danced as they saw Mr Cow to the large open grave of the mouth cemetery off Teeth Avenue, waiting to cover up his tantalised body.
Mr Cow is survived by wife, Mrs Wool Cow and bones of different sizes; children. May his gentle soul and yummy body rest in perfect pieces!
Koyi A. Oluwafemi
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