Patriarchy own goals.
“Can’t cook, won’t cook, must eat.”
The problem with hunger is it understands the principle of compounding more than delayed gratification. Pangs are never to be deferred. I tried to ‘Inama’ which for my Kile-pipe-leshwa people is lingo for skipping a meal . The self pep-talk was simple, smother in 8 hours of sleep and then maybe you’ll have breakfast in the morning. In the fullness of time. I insist on ‘maybe’ because my friend Duncan Okello is always on hand to remind wait staff whenever we meet,
“Please make sure you give this guy food. He’s a bachelor, he never knows where his next meal will come from.”
I won’t admit that he’s saying the truth but I will also not aver that he’s lying. Anyways, I fail miserably at pretending that I’m not famished. In fact, it’s so bad I imagine that I’m out on a bender at Bar La Njaa. Cringe but carry on.
My plan to sleep on a flat tummy goes belly up and my stomach wins. I blinked first. I should have known ab initio that a stomach can’t stare. It is a Mo*Fu*. Kuinama? No way Jose. The governor is not the only one who must eat with the county.
And so out of my mattress my hide rises. My perp walk leads me to my unused hand-me-down, two burner, table top cooker. Right beside it, as a bow to an arrow, is my 13kg Rubis LPG cylinder. The keyword here is? No prizes for guessing.
Unused. Yes. The two of them (my gas cylinder & cooker) do not say much. They say zilch if anything. But they intimate that I should bring on all the smoke. Fair game, let’s see what’s stocked in the pantry.
My stimulus package which is the container full of unga my mother gifted me as I severed ties with her house. Sobs. Insert keyword one more time. There is a bag of onions and my tap overflows.
Water, flour and onions. If this trio works hard enough and I recruit a pair of condiments to compliment their competencies they might actually qualify for a meal, no? Hear hear! Avocado and eggs are typing. Yet halting me in my tracks is my hands have cooked all but excuses.
We take protracted looks at each other. Cooker, gas, yours truly. And like people who have just finished we can’t help but wonder what to do with one another.
