Sometimes, this is the response you get at social events in Nigeria, especially those of a certain ethnic group located in the southwest region of the country (disclaimer: I’m from that region).
My meal preferences.
I personally do not like to eat out if it is not at a restaurant or a home. I think that food at such events is mass-produced, diminished in quality and of questionable hygiene. So I have made it a rule to always fortify myself with a nice balanced meal before leaving my house.
Unfortunately, it just happens that on two occasions over one weekend, I was not able to eat before events and therefore became a victim of food hoarding. What made the situations dire was that on both occasions, I had done an intense work out just before heading out. So I’m sure many people in the fitfam era would be able to relate this.
First the struggle for water.
The first event was a lavish wedding. It was so crowded that the combination of the exhaustion from locating a decent place to seat with the post-workout stress left me parched. One would have thought that even if getting food required some strong ties with the food mafia at this wedding, at least, water…. common water would be available to the masses.
This was not the case. I asked at least five waiters, with no success. One even gave me the excuse of not being able to serve water because it was not cold. At this point, a migraine was building up and I actually started to feel a little embarrassed for asking. Eventually, one of my friends came to the rescue and brought two bottles of water.
Then, the struggle for food.
On the other side of my table, one of the friends I went with was not having it when it came to food. I think she must have cornered at least 10 waiters. Again, she was not successful until she found one of her aunts who had connections to the food mafia and was able to hook us up. It was really interesting that for every waiter she asked, their excuses were largely along the context of “I’m not allowed to serve ordinary guests, this food is for the XXXX family and their guests”.
So clearly, we did not get the memo: every man and woman for him or herself…and their guests. The hustle was real! To add to this, the entire situation was so ironic because we were actually seated right in front of the caterers, so you would think that access to food would have been straightforward. Not the case at all!
Post-bootcamp birthday party.
Now, the second event was a little different. This was a small house party for about 30 guests. I had just completed a Body by Ponz bootcamp session. If anyone knows Ponz, they would know that his sessions are no joke. Unfortunately, I did not have time to eat afterwards; otherwise, I would have been late as I am a very slow eater. So I decided to live dangerously once again, hoping that the risk would not be as grave as the situation at the wedding the previous night.
Fortunately, it wasn’t because this time, there was a nice table of home cooked food. Although most of the dishes were nearly empty by the time I arrived, I would smell some fresh food cooking in the kitchen. This brought me some level of comfort. Eventually, I had something to eat and was relatively satisfied.
The golden chicken!
Then some people around me were talking about this amazing barbeque chicken. Given that it was my friend’s house, I boldly walked into the kitchen and saw some of this “golden chicken” on a serving dish right in front of me. The chicken was calling my name!
So I asked the lady in the kitchen if I could take some and she told me to go ahead. Then I took two out of the three pieces, placed them on my plate, went back to my place at the table, got myself some serviette, got comfortable and was ready to chow down that chicken, primitive style.
The rude chicken hoarder.
Right before I touched the chicken, an angry sounding lady came out of the kitchen saying “Excuse me, did you take the chicken from the kitchen?” I was very confused at this point. So I answered, “Yes, I did”. She did not say a word in response, but boy did she look pissed! I immediately knew that I had unknowingly taken her chicken.
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So I asked her if she wanted it back, saying that I hadn’t touched it yet (but not really expecting her to take it back). She didn’t even respond, but just grabbed my plate. I felt a little embarrassed because this happened in front of the other people at the table.
Later that night, I found out that she was the one who cooked the food, so somehow, that gave her authority over who could or could not eat it (Head of the Food Mafia).
Then I thought to myself, if I were in the same situation, what would I do? I would like to believe that was brought up better than to behave the way she did, especially given that that was our first encounter ever. I would have let it go.
My advice.
Basically here are some tips I would give, should you ever find yourself in such situations:
But to avoid all forms of disappointment or embarrassment in such a situation, just eat at home before you go out. It’s tough out there.
Written by Oyin Egbeyemi.
Oyin Egbeyemi is an engineer-turned-consultant-turned-educationist, runner and writer.