My missing kitchen knife

Greetings, comic people!

I've been living a self-satisfied life; I hardly go out to borrow anything from a neighbour, and that's due to how my neighbours are, or, let me say, how bad our behaviours and relationships are.

I once said here, how my freshly prepared food got soured when my gas finished at night and I could not mutter out so I could use their gas to warm my food. That's how high my pride is, and I love it. I hate to be 'see finish'(over familiarity).

Some couple of weeks ago, I noticed that my kitchen knife was missing when I was about to cook. I searched everywhere, to the extent of searching book pages, but nothing was there.

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"How can a knife just disappear in my house like that?" I said, sweating profusely as a result of my radical search of the knife, my house was turned upside down.
I was staring at the onions I was about to slice before I remembered that knife was not there.

"I cannot go and beg for a knife, never!" I went on, used an iron spoon to cut the onions in half, and began to chop the onions in a mannerless, big sized way with my hands. I was doing that, and it was beating my eyes so hard. It was Cameroon onions and I was sharing litres of tears.

After I was done preparing the food, the big size onions in my food looked like meat, which I chewed happily. Thank God no one eats food in my house, so I won't be mocked.

After that day, I forgot about the knife until the next three days, when I was about to cook again. Mehn, I followed the same process again

I wasn't ready to buy a new knife because I was sure that the knife was hidden somewhere in the house. I knew it was waiting for me to buy another one before it'll come out, but no, I didn't want that to happen. I should be controlling my properties, not the other way around.

My plan was to, if, after a week or two, it didn't crawl out from where it was hidden, I would use Voodoo to invoke it. Oh yeah, I know someone who sells all manner of charms on my WhatsApp list.

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The next day, while bringing out the generator in my house, I saw a very similar-looking knife placed very close to my neighbour's door. I went on to drop the generator and pick up the knife. I examined it thoroughly, and it looked exactly like mine; in fact, it's mine, but the difference is that it has been sharpened by a machine. The daughter of my neighbour sells oranges.

"This is my knife; they picked it and sharpened it, so I won't know," I said as I picked it up and went inside my house.

"If it's your knife, how did they pick it? Does it mean that they entered your house without your consent?" My instinct punched me so hard.

"Oh! It seems these people now enter my house without my consent." From that moment on, I began to lock my door, even if I was going to throw away trash in the general dustbin in the compound.

Sincerely, my mind was not settled because it looked like I stole or seized their knife, but the 'other me' was so confident that the knife was mine.
I wish I had a mark on it; I wouldn't have passed through the thought clashing in my soft brain.

I think this is where ladies have super powers; most of them don't mark their properties, but they know them just by looking at them; some don't even look; they just smell, and that's it.

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While in my house that same day, I heard the lady scattering everywhere, asking everyone where her knife was.

I just hissed. How could she be looking for what's not hers? By this time, my soft mind had been replaced by a semi-devil's heart. I didn't give a damn to her searches and shouts because she talks so loudly and she has small stature.

The knife is mine, and I'm happily using it today.
I hope God won't use this to lock the gate of heaven against me on judgement day

Thank you for reading.