Dear Cerelac, I Love You . . .

When my Mom had our youngest sister, she kept the formula, cereals, glucose and the big sterilizing container, with its overpowering scent, in her room. My older brother liked Similac, my older sister would go for glucose and I gravitated towards Cerelac. We usually poured small scoops into our mouths and then wiped down the table of any residue. One day Mom warned us to stop, she said we were stealing our baby sister’s food, we knew it was wrong and we ought to be ashamed of ourselves. We are just partaking of the food, I thought, Baby couldn’t have it all. Rice, beans, yam and akara were no fun.

One day an urge gripped me – I needed a Cerelac fix and I had to get it fast. I tiptoed to Mom’s room, heart beating very fast. I thought about her long light brown cane but that did not deter me, I trudged on. Her door was slightly ajar and I peeked. Neither Mom nor baby was there. I saw the big tin of Cerelac standing tall and proud, almost majestic, next to its brother (Similac) and sister (Glucose). I opened the tin and reached for the red plastic scoop. (Mom had ever so often warned us about dipping our hands into any tinned food – O ga-eyewasi gi aka – it will rip your hand to shreds. You know, they don’t make tins like they did then – rims had serrated edges and spoons were required to open them). The first scoop, I closed my eyes … ahh… heavenly, another scoop, 2 more scoops, my mouth was so full I could barely chew.

And then . . .

‘Kkkeeeccchhh!!!!!!! My mom yelled from the next room. Different thoughts ran through my head. Do I run away? To where? The Cerelac in my mouth could barely sustain me till I got to the front door downstairs. Do I beg for forgiveness? That would mean I knew what I had done was wrong but I still did it. Do I pretend I didn’t hear and risk getting her more upset by calling me the second time? I thought to myself – Dad would save me no matter what. So I walked, like a ram to the slaughter, mouth filled with Cerelac, to the guest room where Mom was. ‘What is in your mouth? Ajuju! (question!). I couldn’t speak. There I was, Cerelac on my face, hands, my dress, looking as guilty as sin. She told me she was praying and God told her I was up to something. O Chi m! Had God seen me? I felt so bad. I was hoping she would forgive and let it go, I mean, she just heard from God and was still in the ‘spirit’.

Then she said something far worse than I expected. ‘Go and spit it into the bathroom sink’. Say wwhhaatt??? This same Cerelac I had transversed the dungeons and swam across seven seas to get? There were three rooms between where we were and the children’s toilet/bathroom and I was determined to make it the longest walk ever; if I was going to be made to spit it out then I would chew my 30seconds worth of Cerelac. I turned around and started to chew furiously. I heard my mom say, ‘Don’t let me meet you there’. I got to the bathroom and spat the remainder into the sink. By then, I had chewed and swallowed almost half the Cerelac in my mouth. I heard her again (Mom just wasn’t going to let me be), ‘Rinse your mouth!’ I still had Cerelac in my mouth that the saliva had helped hold down for me. I grudgingly rinsed – I initially wanted to pretend I didn’t hear then I saw her standing at the door watching me, she had a clear view, she wasn’t going to leave God to tell her if I spat out or rinsed.

I was happy God spoke to Mom to tell her that her daughter was up to something that day. So I lived; I lived another day because our God is good and He had mercy on the 5-year-old Cerelac thief.

I am older now and I can afford to buy as many tins of Cerelac as I want. Some days I am eating a bowl and I remember that day I was caught, I smile, reach for the tin and scoop some more into my bowl. Oh Cerelac, my Cerelac, we have really come a long way.

To God be the glory!

Kech

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