It was like one of those broke Saturdays when there's absolutely no food at home. One of those broke days that you just wake up and bury yourself in house chores all to kill time so that you'll skip breakfast and maybe lunch. I had just finished washing clothes. My back was aching and my stomach was grumbling. But as I stepped out to spread the last shirt on the line.
Michael quickly rushed in like he was being chased by one of the people he owed.
"Guy, who's chasing you?" I asked, fidgeting.
He laughed. "Nobody. But I just saw an owambe (wedding party) down the road." He smiled cheerfully.
"So?" I asked nonchalantly. I recalled seeing plastic chairs arranged like students waiting for WAEC results down the street earlier when I had stepped out to buy detergent. But I wondered why an owambe got him so hype.
"Dude, free food."
I cut him an eye that held many unspoken words. I quickly spread my clothes on the line and turned into the house.
"Guy, it's for us to survive today till tomorrow when our people will send us money. You need to perceive the aroma of their jollof rice."
If for anything, he was right about the rice. I had perceived the aroma earlier; it smelled like it had been soaked in firewood, joy, and secrets. The type that announces itself before the MC even announceditem 7.
I entered the house and sat on the bed pretending not to be interested, but my mind had already entered that compound. To worsen it all, my stomach grumbled like it understood what Michael was saying.
"So what's the plan?" I asked.
Michael checked his watch. "1:15 p.m.," he muttered. "It's still early, so it wouldn't seem like we came for the rice. Let's wait a few hours then we get dressed to strike."
We quickly ironed our shirts. Took our baths and waited for the perfect time.
We got to the owambe venue by 3:15 pm. Everywhere was full, but the party was still getting started. Different types of perfume fragrance filled the air. Gele's (Headgears) were almost competing with the height of the canopy. The MC was shouting into the microphone like he had a fight with it. But we didn’t let any of that bother us. We had one mission - blend in like you knew the celebrant and get enough food and drinks..
We greeted every elderly person and everyone who looked like they had the key to the kitchen. Michael even helped one aunt hold her bag while she changed her child's diaper. All to blend in.
We finally found the buffet line and joined quietly. We got to the food table, and the woman serving looked at me suspiciously. I smiled. The kind of smile you use when you're trying to collect something you didn’t pay for. But I never knew Michael had it all planned out.
“Good afternoon, ma,” He quickly blurted out, trying so much to sound polite. “We were asked to collect food for Mama Amaka.”
She paused. “Which Mama Amaka?”
I blinked. “The bride’s godmother’s,” I cut in, helping him.
She looked from me to Michael. Then, she dished the rice. Full portion. One meat. Two plantains. Another puff-puff that looked like table tennis. While we turned to leave she stopped us and said. "You didn't need to lie. I know you guys are students and don't even know the bride."
"Ahh, no Ma o, we ..." Michael tried to counter.
But the woman cuts in. "I saw you in the morning while you were buying detergent at that kiosk nearby." She smiled pointing at me.
I smiled with the plate of rice in my hand. She was right, and there was no need to deny it. I quickly put a spoonful of rice in my mouth before she'll ask us to return it. I looked at Michael, who was also smiling and biting into his meat.
She returned our smiles.
"It's hunger Ma o."
"You don't need to fear. I did it too while in school. You just didn't have to lie to get it. It's just food, ask and it shall be given unto thee." She joked.
"Thank you, Ma." I quickly said.
"You're welcome."
We turned to leave but were drawn back by her voice again. "Meet me after the party for any leftovers if you guys are interested."
Michael and I looked at ourselves and smiled. It was as if the universe decided to surprise us with our heart's desires at that moment.
"We will, Ma," Michael said.
We did return for the leftovers. Trust me when I say, the portion of rice we got from the leftovers was enough to feed us and other friends till Monday.
