SHORT STORY: The Definition Of Hunger.

It was a hot Saturday afternoon, four months ago
- a day i can never forget. We had finished our semester examinations the previous day and most students on campus had vacated for their various homes, i was one of the few that were still in school. I didn't have any money on me to foot my transport fare home,   afford a plate of food or even buy airtime to inform my parents who had no idea about the status quo. I was a practically a penniless  pauper.

I laid down on my mattress, staring at the ceiling with my phone beside my head, hoping for a "miracle call” from home. An hour past, another past, yet no call came in. I looked at my watch, it was 12:00pm already and i haven't had breakfast.

 I stood up and walked to my provisions locker majestically as though i didn't know the only food stuffs i had were palm oil, Maggi seasoning and a piece of dry fish heavily infested with ants. There was a left over cup of garri too. With these items, i could only prepare ‘eba’ and  ‘water soup’. I had to make do after all what other options were at my disposal’, i muttered.

I have seen hungry people many times, on TV and on the streets but i haven't really had a first hand experience of what it feels to be really hungry for like a day. I hadn't eaten since i wrote my last exam the previous day, i resorted to gulping down water in cups. By my rough estimate i had drunk 25 litres of water from the previous day to that Moment. There was no better " definition of hunger ” than this.

"Was God punishing me for a sin i committed?", " have my parents disowned me?”, " Nobody cares about me any more, i must disown my parents when i eventually get home ”, i kept  muttering to my self while starring casually at the ceiling. Suddenly, i heard the earsplitting sound of a speaker playing music down the street of my lodge and decided to go check out the reason for such nuisance.
From my cursory investigation, a family house down the street was about to hold a reception party for their eldest son that had his white wedding earlier that day. Peeping into the venue, i noticed that everything was in place already for the occasion - chairs were neatly arranged, the attendants were dressed already, guests mostly in suits were already trooping in and most importantly, food and drinks would be  served obviously. 

"God don answer my prayer, na God win o, na God win o...” , i exclaimed to myself and rushed back to my room to get dressed for the event. Apparently, corporate wear was the dress code, so i reached out for my suit that i had only worn once since my mum bought it for me a year ago. " Mama, i love you. You certainly knew a day like this was gonna come and you got me ready for it, sweet Mama”. 

In 15 minutes, i was fully dressed up but i decided to delay my movement and get there at the "right time” - the time for the distribution of item 7.

Approximately two hours later, i began to walk down to the venue majestically with a gait that oozed class. After all, who wouldn't look smart in an italian suit?  On getting to the gate of the compound, i paused and took out my handkerchief to wipe my face while i had my eyes roving round to check for any unoccupied seat.  The gate man couldn't even summon the courage to ask if i was invited or not, probably because of the class and charisma my dress sense exuded.

Luckily for me, the last seat on the last row just a few steps away was empty, but then i noticed a tag on it that read "Uche Bolaji” and it dawned on me that the guests came on invitation. Well, as a sharp "area” boy that was hungry, this wasn't solid enough to deter me from taking this opportunity,so i went ahead and took the seat.

Almost as soon as i sat down, i noticed a lady that seemed to be managing the event walking up to my direction; immediately i put on the countenance of a “big man” to avoid suspicion.

“Good evening sir, you must be uhm Engr. Bolaji”, she asked with an electrifying smile on her face. “Yes, I'm Ben Bolaji”, i replied and cleared my throat in a bid to sound more confident.  She then looked confused and checked the paper she was holding.
“ But sir, this seat was reserved for Uche Bolaji and.. ”,   “Yes, I am Uche's younger brother, he asked me to stand in for him, cant you see we share same surname?”, i cut in immediately to avoid the wave of suspicion.
She then smiled and apologised for the inconveniences she caused me. “Don't worry, its okay. Just serve me something ”, i instructed her.

A few minutes later she came back empty handed with an apologetic look. " sir, im really sorry. Your elder brother Uche contacted earlier and made provisions for his share of the food and drinks to be sent to his house, after he gave the family cogent reasons as to why he wont be able to attend this event.
“ooh, i see.”,i was  practically weeping inside me when i heard this, i decided to cast my self esteem away and beg her in humility. After all, who self esteem epp?

“sister, abeg, find me food chop abeg”, i asked her in a low tone. She smiled and said “Bros, food don finish totally, na you i carry this pure water come for”, and handed me a satchet of table water.

My eyes became red; in short, tears were at the verge of rolling down my eyes, so i quickly stood up and left the venue back to my room to avoid embarrassments.

Back in my room, i was left with one option -Eba and water soup. Water soup was quite easy to prepare: boil water, add palm oil salt and maggi.  With my eba, i gulped down the soup and slept off. 
  That was a perfect definition of hunger, i don't think any earthling has a better definition.

We appreciate you for reading On baze360, but we think it will be better you like our facebook fanpage and also follow us on twitter below.
Follow @Yloadedofficial

Are you an artiste? Do you want your music to go viral and reach a large number of audience? Promote your music on baze360 by clicking here. You can also advertise your product or brand by clicking here.