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Monday 3am

Its 3am in the morning and I’m awake staring at the ceiling, Henry is snoring peacefully beside me….oh the bliss of a full stomach. I had my last meal at 9:30pm and had planned to eat another meal at 11pm so I don’t starve excessively before I break my fast the next day.

So far I have succeeded in gaining 2kg after 1 week’s fast and naturally I blame Henry. He came back the other night with 2 large grilled fish with a bowl of delicious sauce and chips. What was I supposed to do? Allow him eat it alone because it was late at night? Course not!  I had to help 🙂 . Another night he came back from work with an invitation to attend the Igwes anniversary lunch in a five star hotel and oh! No way on this side of heaven was I gonna miss a buffet of meals you get to only eat when it’s free! When I did not kill my Lord and Saviour!

So here I am starving and wishing I hadn’t slept off last night, I would have snacked on the leftover asaro in the fridge and push the hunger pangs further into the morning. Obviously this will be one of those days when I break at noon, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to push the fast to 6pm. I sigh and push myself off the bed to go check what’s showing on TV perhaps that will distract me. At that very moment PHCN takes light! Ndi ara, I hiss and lie back on the bed. ‘Nne, Asa has got nothing on your rumbling tummy’ Henry says out of no where. I slug him with my pillow and head off to the kitchen to rummage through the fridge shame faced.

Thankful I’m resuming work today so I can finally leave the house with all its foodie temptations behind me. I got to work at 8am looking all glamorous covering the war between good and food going on inside me. Everyone’s commenting on how my complexion is glowing and how trim I’m looking- liars! Being their boss means they have to say nice things to me otherwise I fire them lol! Just kidding 🙂 .

Wednesday 2:15pm

It’s only Wednesday but it feels like I have worked for 10 days straight without a weekend. You know hunger has a way of making days long and nights endless, I honestly don’t know how much longer I can carry on with the fast and the twins are counting on me. They gave me prayers points they give every year ‘mummy please pray for us that we get to travel to the US this year’,  like seriously, the little crooks telling their father and I where to send them for summer. ‘Mummy pray for us that we come 1st in our class this term’, if only they’ll read I tell them. Gifted with excellent memory, all they have to do is hear something once and it sticks, so my dear sons play in their spare time and during prep remembering they have notebooks on the morning of their exams. Henry doesn’t make things easy by blaming their 5th and 7th positions on my inability to complete the 40 day fast each year. His theory is if I had completed the previous years fast, they would have come 1st and he wouldn’t have had an excuse not to buy the the lastest PSP, my crook of a husband! The things they blame me for in that house. 

Anyway, I’m clicking away at the mouse visiting all the food websites I can find planning my next big feast when I hear a very annoying laughter behind me. I turn around and see Susan tearing up and holding her tummy. Why won’t these people leave me alone to my food longing fast? ‘Saint Nweje’ she calls me, ‘break your fast if you are that hungry na’ she says in mock concern. ‘Please please mind your business and leave me alone!’ I retort, ‘I’m only planning what we will eat this easter’. ‘4 weeks ahead of time!!’ She screeches, falls into a chair and continues laughing. ‘Dear God’ I pray, ‘why? why do I keep giving the evil people in my life material to work with?’ I laugh a little because I know I’m not planning any easter meal, I’m simply giving hope to the rumblings in my tummy by eye feasting on good food. Henry promised Isi-ewu date night this Friday as a treat and to make up for all the taunting, I can hardly wait, yipeeee!

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Friday 7:45pm

It’s Friday night and we walk into a bar and lounge dimly lit, with puffs of smoke rising from different corners of the room. We make our way through the feasting patrons to the reception and ask for our table reservation when ‘Caro’ starts booming from the loud speakers….