The Resurrection of Bingo.

12:40 PM 2 Comments A+ a-



Humm…..Bingo, Bingo, Bingo! How many Bingos can one family have? I thought it was just cats that had 9 lives but I swear I think all of our family dogs over time probably had 10. Okay 10 is an exaggeration. So I grew up in a family of 5, and most families in Nigeria then probably had dogs as we also did. I really can’t remember per se how many dogs we had over time but they were a bit though. My dad believed a puppy was a great companion for 3 girls to have in the house (yeah, he was probably targeting the future boys knocking on his door), okay maybe not sha but he did think it was a great idea.

I think I remember the first puppy we got, we named her Bingo – I’m not really sure whose idea this was but I don’t recall anyone against this name. Bingo was just a few weeks old when he joined the family and I was so excited to have a little animal to care for (this is what I call The Last Born Syndrome- we always want something\someone\some animal to dote over). I remember my dad bringing dog food to the house and instructing me and the maid on how to make the food and how many times a day to feed the dog. We were also told to give the dog milk every day – as in peak milk (now in retrospect I’m like Milk ke? Say what now?). He forgot instructions about how to handle the shit (as in poo-poo) from the dog sha. In a matter of weeks Bingo was a bonafide member of the family. He even watched Frank Olize on Newsline with us. 


This was the case with every single Bingo we had. For some reason or the other, our dogs would always just disappear from the house. Like someone was kidnapping them or something. Neighbors would say “ ohhh, the dog must have gotten lost when it walked too far from the house”. Each time this happened my dad would dutifully replace the dog and it would be named Bingo…..again! I mean, we no dey tire of that name. The name Bingo was legendary and God forbid we retired the name and not allow a new dog to have its own identity. All the Bingos were generally good dogs though until we got the Bingo from hell. Yes, it was the Bingo from hell because that shege ate my plate of rice and fish. That thing was so painful that I even want to start crying right now just remembering. I’m going to need a moment to get my emotions over this plate of rice under check. I’ll be back.

Okay, I’m back. Now to the story of the rice. 


On this wonderful day, there was just a little soup left in the pot and one piece of fish (the tail for that matter), I was in my preteens I believe and was home on holiday with one of my sisters. I had just finished cooking my rice for lunch, served it on a plate and scraped the last drops of soup and the fish on it. Lunch was looking good! Naaa, it was looking beautiful. I had never seen any plate of food look so inviting before. I couldn't wait to dig in, and then I heard gba…gba…gba, someone was knocking on our back door. My sister went to open the door and it was our next door neighbor *Nneka (Nne Beauri for short (beauty but we funkisized the beauty to beauri)). Nne Beauri had been boasting for a while about this palatable collection of furniture that her family stored in their allotted Boys Quarters downstairs but she had never been able to prove it. She now decided that on this fateful day, just when I was about to delve into my beautiful plate of rice and fish, is the day she would open the room for us to see (she was able to sneak the key from her folks just before they went out).

So of course now, my sister said oya lets go and see, (technically they didn't call me into this matter but if it was you wouldn't you go as well?), so I left my plate of rice on the side table in the living room (again, I had been warned several times to only eat at the dining table but sometimes ehn my hearing can be selective), and I followed them downstairs. Yes, it was confirmed that they had very correct furniture in storage in that room; so I bolted back upstairs to go and enjoy my meal.

I got to the living room and I saw the plate where I left it but it was clean, as in very clean, as in it went through a dish washer kind of clean. I ran back to the kitchen thinking I must have thought I had served the food but I actually didn't. Oti o, the pots were all empty and in the sink waiting to be washed. I searched everywhere, under the table, under the sofa, even looked up at the ceiling, but my food was nowhere to be found. Just like Fadeyi Oloro’s magic, my food did opapa parada and was gone. I just burst out crying – actually, crying is the buhtti way of saying I was wailing. Chai!! Nothing has pained me like that thing before. 


So who ate my food???? In the midst of the wailing, I realized I didn't see Bingo. So I started searching for Bingo and found him licking his mouth and coiled up at the back of the furthest couch. BINGO, WHY ARE YOU LICKING YOUR MOUTH??? What did you eat? This dog refused to answer me but all his licking had not gotten rid of one grain of rice hanging on its whiskers. The horror on my face made that dog bolt for the door as I bolted right after it with my slippers being missiled at his head. I was in for blood. Bingo ran downstairs and I ran after it at full speed (Mary Onyali couldn't have beaten me). Bingo was running round the compound and I was running after it too shouting all the abuse I could muster. I don’t know what was more painful – the fact that it was the last soup in the house and there was nothing as palatable to eat until mummy returned home in the evening, or the fact that it was fish tail (which I looooove so much) or that Bingo –my trusted ally in that house betrayed me. Bingo eventually escaped through the gate but my madness no reach that level so I didn't run after it beyond the gate.

That was the day I decided I would not love any other Bingo. That was it for me. That was the ultimate betrayal from man’s best friend. Until my dad decided he would buy another Bingo again!!!!

Daddy, but why….why….why did you keep resurrecting Bingo?



Xoxoxo
Love is a beautiful thing.....