11 June 2025 @marinnewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2764: False Teeth.
This is my post for #freewriters 2764 #dailyprompt false teeth hosted by @marinnewest's.
Miss Enobong Ennang and the Curious Case of the False Teeth,
She was a lively and elegant woman in her early sixties who was well-known throughout Ibiono for her vibrant headdresses, infectious laugh, and timeless wisdom. She spent more than thirty years as a primary school teacher before retiring, and even after her retirement, she was still well-liked by the community. On the dusty village roads, children would still rush up to her, wanting a sweet or a story.
On a sunny Tuesday morning, Miss Enobong got ready to go to the church's Women's Fellowship meeting. She grabbed her prized set of false teeth, a beautiful pair that her nephew in Calabar had given her, as she was getting dressed. Perfectly shaped and shining white, they added a certain charm to her speech that she took great pride in.
To her dismay, however, the artificial teeth were absent.
She flipped her bedroom around, grabbing cushions, looking under the bed, and even checking the refrigerator in case she had forgotten to put them down while having her morning snack. Nothing.
The panic gave way to resolve. She marched over to Mama Ime, her neighbour, after tying her wrapper tightly.
"Have you seen my teeth, Mama Ime?" With earnestness, she asked.
Mama Ime blinked. "You what?"
"My teeth. the most recent ones. "They are no longer there!"
The whole compound was in a frenzy within an hour. Had a goat swallowed the rumours that were spread? Were they thrown out of the window by the cat? Was it the naughty kid who lived next door and was always pulling pranks?
Even though she was embarrassed, Miss Enobong handled it with her typical humour and grace. “Well, if someone really wanted my smile, they ought to have asked,” she said with a laugh.
The mystery was eventually resolved. Her five-year-old neighbour, Etim, showed up sheepishly with a tiny floral handkerchief in her hand. The absent teeth were inside.
Auntie Enobong, I saw it as a toy. I thought it was funny," he muttered.
Miss Enobong's eyes watered as she laughed. You mistook it for a toy? Next time, play with a ball, my love!
Fashionably late and brimming with stories, Miss Enobong arrived at the fellowship with her teeth restored. As usual, she ended the day with a warm smile, a little whiter this time but much more appreciated.
Her teeth became a folktale in the village after that day, serving as a reminder that laughter can always be found in anything that has been lost.