A Hunger Tale

I grew up in the rural part of Nigeria with the most loving parents who made sure my siblings and I never lack for anything as long as that thing is a necessity and not just the random want of a child which can be quite infinite most of the time. Like the time I wanted a baby lion after watching the movie Tarzan which is another story in itself.

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It was a normal Sunday, some of us who grew up in Nigeria may agree with me that there is this custom of having a special rice cooked on Sundays. My parents were devout Christians and so missing church on a Sunday is a thing that never happened.

In an average home, these Sunday delicacies may just be the only time in the week that the family may get to have this treat. So Sunday is special for another reason for us kids. My mom is a wonderful cook, though I am yet to meet anyone who says otherwise of their mom! This particular Sunday, she woke up late and was unable to finish cooking this rice on time.

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My Dad had us go to the church on an empty stomach as the children's Sunday service starts way earlier than the adult's session. Our Sunday school teacher, who also doubles as our school teacher was a middle aged woman known for her love for capital punishment. So if the fear of our Dad was not enough, Miss Ruth, is there with her long whip to remind us about the fiery hell we truants are destined to be in if we do not change our evil ways. She, as the custodian of God's word on earth, may as well give us a taste of hell from her whip for coming late.

So we all rushed to the church to avoid both the wrath of God and that of Miss Ruth. Sunday school usually end by 12 noon but that day each hour that passed seemed like days. My stomach was now growling on every passing minute. I was so hungry I missed a lot of what Miss Ruth said. All I could think of was the delicious rice at home.

That day was the longest church service, or so it seemed to my 7 years old me. Finally, the closing prayer was said. I used the last strength in me to bellow it out with the other kids. Freedom at last!

I ran home and was greeted by the aroma of the rice still lingering every where. Wow. This life is good, I thought to myself. I rushed to where my mom used to hide the key to the house. The key was not there! Now I have two option. Go back to the church and collect the key from my mom or wait for two more hours for them to be through and return. Hunger made the decision easy. I rushed back to the church and was unable to reach them as the adult service is on and doors were locked.

By now I could feel the pain of the gnawing hunger. I walked slowly home and waited. Two hours later my parents were nowhere to be seen. I decided to check on the kitchen's door. The door was made of glass that is a bit transparent. Then it happened! I could see the keys stuck in the door from the other side!

Picking up a heavy stone I hurled it at the glass door. It shattered, I slipped my hand in, grabbed the key from the other side and turned the lock. Food has never tasted so good as it did that day. I ate to my satisfaction.

Needless to say, I got the greatest ass whopping of my life when my dad eventually returned, which was after about two hours. But I guess it was worth it :)

Later I found out the reason they stayed back so late in the church was because of a new minister in town who wanted his presence felt. So he did a rather long service.

Growing up was full of excitement and adventures which I will try to pass across as the day go by.

Please do leave some comments and thanks for reading.