The chicken chasers

It was half past four on Sunday evening when our aircraft touched down at Heathrow airport, UK. We were a group of Nigerian journalists sent on a week training sponsored by FirstBank of Nigeria Plc. It was a journey we had all been looking forward too for so many reasons. It was the first time a financial institution would bring together journalists covering different beats. The group was diverse. There are journalists covering the capital and money markets, aviation, brand, Features and lifestyle writers. Our diversity contributed a great deal to the way we see things and our opinion of it. This made our interactions in and out of the ‘classroom’ really interesting.

And so, upon arrival at our hotel, we needed to fill our rumbling tummies. We all agreed that to have a better taste of London, it is best to eat outside the hotel.

With the daylight playing a trick on us, we never knew it was half past eight already! The sun was still shining. It’s summer. Dusk doesn’t fall quickly until past 10pm!

We enquired from the receptionist which way was the best to go. Hendon Way where our hotel, Best Western, The Palm is located, is a major highway with several junctions. He told us to turn left and take the right turn at the next junction. Although, someone had suggested to us earlier to go to the shopping mall. But we decided against it because of time. It was a Sunday. Malls close early.

We embarked on the stroll looking for a Mac Donalds or KFC. It was a bit of a walk but were enjoying ourselves as we were chatting noisily about all manner of things.

“We are at the junction. The guy said we should take the first turn right,” I said.

“No, that’s not what he said. I heard him say we should go past the junction,” said Johnson, a member of the group.

“Is that that not what you heard him say?” He asked Taofeek, another group member. Taofeek answered in the affirmative.

After we had walked a few metres, Demola, a journalist with Punch shouted we were heading the wrong way. We turned back, walked back to the junction and took the right turn. This led us to a hilly street called Child Hill. On this street was a fruit shop were soft drinks, chocolate, biscuits and other things were sold. Luckily, we were able to get sim cards and airtime for our phones. That solved we were still in search of a meal. The shop owner was kind enough to direct us to an eatry up the hill.

When we arrived the eatry owned by Arabs, chicken, chips, sausages amongst other food were for sale. Everyone was hungry, there were five pieces of chicken left. Those were not enough to go round. The meal was served on first person to order basis.

Unfortunately for Demola, the chicken was sold out by the time it was his turn. “I want that chicken,” he told the seller.

“We don’t have any chicken left,” he replied.

FUNKE OSAE-BROWN