Boys Do Not Cook

            Ekue noticed Kayi squatting in front of her house cooking. What could be more amusing than stirring sand in cans? Especially on a nice Saturday morning. Two heads are better than one. Surely Kayi would want a playmate.

            “Kaka-a-a-a,” Ekue called.

            Kayi looked up with a pout. “Don’t disturb me,” she muttered.

            “Can’t we cook together?” Ekue asked.

            “No,” Kayi said, shaking her head. “Boys do not cook.”

            Ekue stood still and scratched his head. He was bored in the house and was looking for something interesting to do. If only Kayi would accept him!

                        Ekue scratched his head again. Then his face lit up. “Can I cook with you if I bring you real ingredients?”

Kayi’s brown eyes sparkled. “From your mommy in the market?” she asked.

            “Yes,” Ekue replied brightly.

            Kayi grabbed the cans and poured out the sand she pretended was maize flour and the sunflower leaves she used as ademe.

            “Bring pepper, tomatoes, ademe, okra ...” she recited as Ekue raced off, purring like a motorcycle.

            “Something wrong?” Mama asked when he got to the market.

            “No,” Ekue said. “I need condiments to cook with Kayi.”

            Mama smiled and wrapped a small satchet of withering vegetables, except pepper, for him. 

Ekue hopped back to Kayi.

Kayi’s eyes widened on seeing the vegetables. “I can make a real soup now,” she sighed.

“Yes, real food,” Ekue replied, dropping onto his knees.

“No!” Kayi said, stretching out her arms. “I don’t want a boy to spoil my soup.”

“But I brought the ingredients,” Ekue protested.

“They are not nice,” Kayi said with a wrinkled nose. “They are dry. So I can’t play with you.”

Ekue sprang up. “Give me back my dry ingredients,” he blurted out.

“Oh-h-h-h!” Kayi’s eyes grew wide. “Nobody takes back a gift.”

“It wasn’t a gift. You agreed that I could cook with you if I brought you ingredients.”

“No-o-o-o. I accepted your offer of ingredients. Okay, you can cook with me if you bring me herrings and salt.”

Ekue rushed home and took a pinch of salt. Mama would not mind, he thought. He could not find any herrings. He took out an old picture book and cut out a picture of a fish. Back to Kayi he held it out lamely.

Kayi tossed back her head and chortled. “Who eats a paper fish? You see, boys do not know how to cook.”

“But I want to cook with you,” Ekue said as if he would cry.

Kayi looked at him. “Bring me a real fish if you want to cook with me.”

Ekue rushed back to Mama in the market. “I need some herrings,” he said.

“Tomorrow,” Mama said and sent him back.

 “Mama said tomorrow,” Ekue said.

Kayi cocked her head to one side. “You can play with me today but if you don’t bring me herrings tomorrow don’t come near me.”

Ekue dropped on his haunches and fanned the broom twigs under the cans standing on pieces of stones.