Wanja Kavengi: Gatecrashing an uninvited sumptuous lunch

It is that time of the month when you are hungry and broke. There's drought and famine in your house and your wallet and pockets haven't tasted 'rain' in a long while. You decide to 'visit' someone and their family during lunch time, secretly praying that they ask you to join them and eat together.

Since you are excellent at timing, you knock on their door just as the food is ready and the stove put out. They welcome you warmly, while secretly hoping that you are in a hurry and won't stay for more than a minute. But once you say, "I was in the neighbourhood and thought of saying hello," their hopes of having you gone in a minute are thwarted, and they know that you are staying for lunch.

Then they'll use the last weapon against you, the one weapon your mother taught you to always say no to.

"Will you eat?" comes the question, the one weapon they know will keep you at bay. They ask you, while they secretly hope that you will say no.

"No, I'm okay," you lie. Your mother taught you not to say yes to these things. But you refuse, while secretly hoping that they will insist.

"Come on, it will be nice to have you share lunch with us," they lie, while secretly hoping you will still refuse. I mean, they did not count you in on the lunch budget, and the portions for each person will be tremendously affected if you are going accept the invitation.

"I'd love to, but I'm okay, I just ate," you lie again, while secretly hoping that they will keep on insisting. You tell yourself that if they ask again you will say yes.

"When will you ever taste our food? Join us," they pretend-insist again, while secretly hoping you will still say no so that they don't ask again.

You are silent for a few seconds, pretending that you are considering their request. You bend your head slightly sideways, feign a loud sigh of resignation and say, "Well, alright, if you insist. But I will have just a little."

Ei. Just a little? It is a lie. You want to eat everything. The pangs of hunger have been devastating your innards. You want to eat even the cutlery. You can even eat those people and their furniture. So you secretly wish that they will serve you a lot of food.

Your plate of food is passed to you. The amount is neither much nor little, but you are disappointed that it is not more. You want to protest and say that they should add you some more food, and, if possible, put some more in a dish so that you can carry home. But your mother taught you to be modest. She taught you to never embarrass her. So you just laugh a little and lie that the food is a lot, but while secretly wishing that no one takes you seriously. You even pretend-ask, "Wow...will I really finish aaall this?"

"Aai, that little food?" they ask, while secretly deeply regretting that they didn't stop insisting the second time you said no.

"Hehe it is a lot," you lie again, while secretly hoping that they don't say anything more so that you can dig in.

But then, someone grabs your plate and apologises for serving you a large amount of food. Before you can grab back the plate from them, they take a serving spoon, place it at the centre of the food-laden plate, then slash half of the food into another plate. And then they decrease it a little more, so that more than half of your food has been unfairly removed from the plate.

Reflex action

Suddenly, as a reflex action, you unexpectedly let out a shriek of horror as you witness the abomination happening before your very eyes. You clutch onto your chest as you heave and wheeze painfully. It is like a spear has pierced your heart. It is like your soul has been ripped apart. You feel your lips go dry and your limbs go weak. You cannot believe it. You cannot unsee this kind of inhumanity. You cannot begin to understand this level of brutality.

They hold up your plate of food and ask, "Is this still too much?" while secretly hoping that you will say yes.

You manage a weak, inaudible no, and you are given back your food, which is now as little as your faith in humanity. You (try to) eat your food slowly, chewing for longer than necessary, so that you can finish at the same time with them, since their quantities of food are larger than yours, but, alas, after just two spoonfuls, your food is finished. However, you are keen on making sure that you do not lick the plate clean, so you leave a few particles of food in the plate to prove that you weren't that hungry.

"Do you want some more?" they ask you while secretly hoping you say no.

"No way, do you want to kill me? I am so full!" you lie.

You can't even feel where the food you swallowed went to. It's like it disappeared inside your mouth like glucose. In fact, you feel hungrier than you were earlier, especially now that you're looking at everyone else eat.

You start remembering and regretting all the times you took food for granted. You want to go home and cry, so you lie that you are in a hurry, that you have to leave.

"Oh, so soon?" they feign regret, while secretly glad.

They ask you to join them for lunch again soon while secretly hoping that you don't.

"I certainly will!" you lie, and leave to attend to your revived hunger pangs.