02/11/2025
During the period I was producing popcorn at home, my living room became a sort of Mecca. Children from all corners of the neighborhood found their way upstairs the moment they caught a whiff of freshly popped corn in the air.
They didn’t even bother knocking anymore — they had become that familiar. The moment they smelled the popcorn, they would shout, “Aunty Popcorn has started!” and within minutes, my house would be full.
Some came with money in hand, ready to buy. Others came empty-handed, hoping for a handful of free popcorn. I would sometimes give them a little and whisper, “Don’t tell your friends downstairs.” But before I could even blink, the whole compound would know. Siblings, cousins, and neighbors would troop upstairs, everyone wanting “just a little.”
Some begged to buy on credit, others just wanted freebies. I later told the “free group” to show their parents before eating anything, just to be safe.
Was I irritated? Not exactly. But I became increasingly worried. What if one of them tripped on the stairs? What if someone got injured in my apartment? People talk. Stories spread fast. And I didn’t want unnecessary drama.
Even worse, what if one of them ate my popcorn and later had a stomach ache? These days, innocent neighbors have been accused of poisoning children over food given in goodwill. I’ve heard stories — and some of them ended badly.
The hardest part was turning them away. Their excitement, their little smiles — it was difficult to say no. But I had to make a tough decision for my peace of mind and safety.
Last month, I packed up all my popcorn materials and moved them out of my house.
It wasn’t an easy choice. But it was a necessary one.
© EbyChopz