In the small town of Peppercorn Street, Christmas was serious business. Decorations went up before the dust from November even settled. Children rehearsed carols, adults compared jollof recipes, and generators hummed like obedient Christmas bees.
But the real star of Peppercorn Street was Mama Titi’s chicken.
Not just any chicken.
This chicken was called Pastor Blessing because:
- It survived two Christmases
- It dodged three pots of stew
- And it had the attitude of someone who paid rent
One fine December morning, Mama Titi sharpened her knife lovingly like a woman who understood her purpose. Christmas was coming. Rice must be perfumed. Stew must be baptized. Guests must not leave the house asking, “Is that all?”
Pastor Blessing looked at Mama Titi…
Mama Titi looked at Pastor Blessing…
And Pastor Blessing said to himself:
“Not today. The God that saved Daniel from lion’s den is still on duty.”
So the chicken took off running.
It ran past the compound.
Past the mango tree.
Past Uncle Kunle who shouted, “Ehen! Fowl don unionize!”
The entire street joined the chase because, honestly, what is Christmas without community drama?
Children were screaming:
“Catch am! Catch Christmas!”
Adults were shouting:
“Don’t let meat escape destiny!”
Pastor Blessing dodged brooms, buckets, and that one child who always falls for no reason.
In a moment of divine inspiration (or confusion), the chicken ran into the living room where the TV was showing a Christmas movie full of snow, reindeer, and jingles.
The chicken paused.
Antlers on screen.
Reindeer flying.
Crowds cheering.
And Pastor Blessing thought:
“So animals are flying abroad while I’m here entering pot? Me too I must fulfill destiny!”
The chicken jumped onto the sofa…
Then onto the center table…
Flapped dramatically…
And landed inside the Christmas tree.
Now the lights flickered.
The ornaments shook.
The star tilted like it had worked night shift.
Children gasped.
Somebody shouted:
“Mummy look! Chicken don become REINDEER!”
At that exact moment, the neighbor’s generator went off and all the lights came back on — bright and shining on the chicken tangled in tinsel like a festive superstar.
The room fell silent.
Then Mama Titi started laughing.
Proper, stomach-holding laughter.
The kind that makes your knees weak.
She wiped her eyes and said:
“Any chicken that fights this hard for life deserves to see New Year.”
And just like that…
Pastor Blessing the chicken became Peppercorn Street’s official Christmas pet.
No pot.
No stew.
Just vibes.
Visitors came to see:
“The chicken that refused roasting.”
Children posed for selfies.
Someone opened an Instagram account for it.
Another person said the chicken needed a visa.
And from that day forward, whenever December arrived, Pastor Blessing strutted proudly through town like a celebrity bird who had seen death, rejected it, and chosen fame instead.
Moral of the story
Sometimes life will chase you with a pot, a spoon, and a pepper…
But if you refuse to give up,
get creative,
Believe in yourself,
and climb a Christmas tree if necessary…
You may not become stew,
You might just become a legend. 😄
Peace!
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