BREAKING BREAD

here’s a scene in Es’kia Mphahlele’s book, Down 2nd Avenue, where a knock on the door sends the occupants scurrying around hiding evidence. There must be no sign that a meal is being prepared or that a meal is about to be eaten. Such a hilarious scene should be immortalised in a movie, if it hasn’t been already.

Mphahlele relates how pots of food are shoved under the bed. There’s hardly space to swing a cat, let alone hide the meagre provisions in that small space that’s home.

What led to this frantic scene where a family is fearing for their eats? The police? It’s a good guess, given that Mphahlele’s book is based on his life growing up in the heyday of apartheid when a knock could spell trouble.

But no. On the other side of the door are Mphahlele’s neighbours, who are quite amicable sorts. They’ve come for supper. They time “visits” to coincide with this.

As Africans, regarding food, we are united under the motto: one for all and all for one. Denying visitors food violates good manners and Mphahlele’s visitors know it.

Fast forward to today. I’m visiting a friend and it’s one of her “dry” days when there’s hardly anything to eat in the house. To make matters worse, Chido, the househelp, is coming. Friend suggests we hide the muesli, fruit and seed loaf otherwise Chido will get hold of it and “it’ll be the end”.

The problem is finding a hiding place. The freezer? Surely she won’t look there. And if she does she’ll realise it’s being saved for a rainy day. No, says Friend. Chido will look in the freezer. And the fact that something is being saved for a rainy day will not be a hindrance. The bread is finally hidden. Chido does find it.

So where can we hide food, dear readers? All the drawers and cupboards in the world are not helping us. Unless you lock them. But who wants to be a jailer in their own home? Hiding food is something we all do. Sweets are hidden from the kids. Leftovers intended for tomorrow’s dinner have to be kept in a place of safety from greedy husbands.

And there are questions that have to be answered. Do we really mean it when we offer visitors refreshments? I’d advise visitors to ask themselves if conditions in a home are conducive to accepting eats and drinks. You may well be depriving kids of their juice for school tomorrow. Money is tight. The Mphahlele family situation lives on. It doesn’t matter to which era, culture or race group you belong, the challenges are the same. The joys are the same too, for all women who work in the kitchen, whether part-time or full-time.