My Rice Meal.

I rushed in to the house, hunger had stripped my stomach of all contents, it was now moving purposefully towards my intestines, with the promise of pain. I did not think this could happen in the number of hours since I had had a snack. My favorite method of eating was snacking. A pack pf biscuit, an apple, some dates, sometimes its fluids. Water, Sprite, more water till the stomach has something nasty to say in defence of its continued existence. Most days, stomach screamed, ‘helllooooooo!!! I’m digesting here!!!’ That is usually the first notice I get to put something into it.

To look at me, you couldn’t tell. Robust body, even more robust cheeks. Ample bosom, adequate bum, and Mother-in-Israel arms that don’t lie. Every attempt to lose weight has met with ‘thick’ resistance. But tonight, I was oblivious to all of these. I had a date with a pot of rice and some stew. I had secretly prayed that PHCN had done the usual so that it would have thawed out. I remembered that there was light all night so it had been frozen, like the rice that was in the food pack that I’d brought home from church. I had tried to warm that with the microwave in the morning for Lil’ Miss but alas, after willing the microwave to work for more than ten minutes, I had plunked it into a pot and ‘gas-warmed’ it.

Please Lord, don’t let the rice be frozen. Let it heat up in a few minutes and let me be having my meal, in about 10minutes after getting home. Driving in the gate and looking at the time on my phone caused me to mentally whistle….you’ve really done it this time, no breakfast yet at 6pm? Stomach will get you this time!  A phone call I could not ignore took more time, and I was glad I didn’t ignore. Call done, I move purposefully indoors and towards my freezer and as always, PHCN did disappoint. Rock solid rice in the pot. I grudgingly place it on the cooker, ready to gas-warm it to life and then a mental image of a meal flashes through my head.

Eba, okro and stew. Can it be done in 10minutes or less? I think so. I find my arms reaching for the kettle, turning the tap, placing the kettle on the cooker. I turn to see what needs to be moved to make reaching the gari container easy….nothing! There it was, sitting atop all those containers that had all our raw foodstuff that we think are necessary in a home. And as I reach for the container, I hear the beginning of the kettle’s soft whistle. So quick? I think, irritated, going towards my pot of rice that had  now been joined by a pot of okro sitting atop fires that were supposed to warm them up and get them ready for consumption. While the okro was bubbling, the rice was rock solid…..sigh! I was sure the meal my stomach asked for was rice, why was everything conspiring to make me eat something else?

Will you eat eba & okro? ‘Yes nau’ she answered sealing the fate of my rice, my beloved rice. I had no further delay tactics or reluctance to stop me from the eba meal. I had been banking on her lack of love for eba as a final resort but she was willing, nay, wanting this eba like no man’s business, therefore, eba, okro & stew it was. Stomach murmured her thanks a few minutes ago…..my rice sits atop the cooker, silently accusing and wondering what kind of fickle human I am…..I understand.