Exhausted from the day's
hustle, I was trudging home thinking of super. I was tired of everyday
indomie and egg, Mama Arinze is a good cook but since the turn of the
year, i have noticed an unbearable degree of commercialization. I once
asked her about the reduction in meat size and general food quantity.
Her reply was as epic as the $2.1bn scam, 'my son, na BUHARI OOOOOO'.
'I can't eat another indomie tonight', I said to myself. For a moment i
thought about those flakes that saved our lives back in the days as
broke students; biscuit flakes, corn flakes. Then i thought i have found
my dinner; a sizeable amount of Ijebu garri garnished with quite a
number of groundnuts, adequate sugar, suitable amount of powdered milk.
Then carefully and delicious mixed with chilled water. I smiled and
wanted to sing, but my hope was quickly dashed by the stark reality that
the only shop in my street that sells garri where I already was closed.
Iya beji quarreled with her husband some days back. Maybe she has been
sent packing.
I couldn't turn back to scout other streets for
garri and co. It was past ten and I was extremely exhausted. Suddenly I
had a brainwave; Chinedu my neighbor got married last year. We are good
friends and though the aromas from his wife's kitchen were always
seducing, I have always 'held my own'. I have always resisted the devil
vehemently 'get behind me you flavored aroma of long throat and
begging'. 'Tonight, I have to beg'. I quickly hatched my plan; I would
greet him thunderously from the gate of the compound in a humorous way.
Then I would knock on his door. His nursing wife would sure be the one
to open the door. Gladly and full of smiles I would take the baby girl
from her and sing her some songs. Then I would gist with my good
neighbor. If no food is forthcoming then I would jokingly ask whether
baby has eaten. Then from there, maybe I would request a plate of food
to eat with baby arguing that if she declines to eat, then I would
confirm that she has been nutritiously served afore.
'Neighbour!,
neighbour,!!', I shouted from the compound gate. No replies. Then I
proceeded to his door and knocked. Another suggestive silence. Hunger in
me was persistent so was my resolve to 'scavenge'. I knocked until the
door clicked open and I met a family saying their night prayer. I wanted
to excuse them but I said to myself 'maybe they always say their night
prayer in conjunction with their prayer before meal thanking the God
that provides before they eat what He had provided. What a family! So, I
asked if I may join. I was shown a seat. After the Bible reading, we
sang and my neighbor concluded 'may God almighty grant us a quiet night
and a perfect end. We all shouted Amen. We exchanged greetings before
the wife asked the houseboy to go and wash all the pots and plates
before sleeping. At that point, I knew my game was up. But I had
knocked for a reason, so my neighbor was waiting to hear me out.
Quickly, I turned to him and asked if he had seen the PHCN bill by the
gate. Before he could reply I was already on my way out. Climbing my
stairs, I pondered on my situation and on the lasts words of the prayer,
“Will God almighty be granting this family a quiet night while
condemning me to a hunger-stricken end?"
#Classof'80sgogetawife#
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