THE DIARY GAME SEASON 3||MY ACTIVITY FOR THE DAY

Each night after running down how the day went and before programming the next days activities I usually listen to the weather man in his forecast for the next day. I am used to the "scattered thunderstorms" stuff low temperature and.....per cent chance of rain . This is at best correct in the negative .It has become a tradition for me to listen to but not rely on their predictions .

Your sweet sleep is usually interrupted by this woman's wake up call, that it's 4'oclock.

And so as usual every week day, I will give my wife a helping hand in her confectionery business. Baking had since been my hobby. Each bake with it's aroma and shine shine is always an appeal to behold and bite. But the doctor will threaten you with fire and brimstone if you do.

They have planted a police woman to enforce their command. My wife would always remind one that she is a major stakeholder in life and health. Yes, her catchism will go on and on.

For today's bake was slower not that the oven is not responding, but the rains kept pounding as if the Noah's rainfall was only a rehearsal. Finally, it stopped somewhat as if to allow us drive out or swim out of the house.

My promise to my wife is that I will prepare her my local soup onugbu ( bitter leaf soup) was been threatened. The had to be plucked, sunned before washing. But then will the market open to buy the meat and other condiments to make it worth the while.?

Leaving home later after my wife braved the drizzling for her supplies two hours late.

The road was predictably flooded, although reversing gradually. The little traffic we met at Bata area was made worse by the horde of beggars that swarm around all vehicles that slowed down to drop any passenger. I spotted a girl among them clutching a baby. This particular girl was a third generation of children born in that particular vicinity.

I knew her grandmother in the 90s when from my office at NIDB House ,we watched happenings around the area from Bata to Aba Town Hall up to the park. Whoever fathers those children are not far from their male colleagues well and unwell.

The Ahia ohuru market was expectantly scanty. I made my purchases devoid of the pushing and shuffling.

Meat Session at Ahia Ohuru

When I returned home, my wife was expecting and waiting for the chef. As the chef on duty ,I did what I knew how as an old woman does not forget her dance steps. She watched with admiration as her man turned cook, tutor her in style and system of ofe onugbu the Anambra way.