A survivors confession
Good day community members. It's the last day of the month, how was January for us?? I hope it went pretty well. When I came across this topic, it reminded me of a funny fasting experience I had in school soo…. I thought to share it with us.
We all know that fasting is a spiritual thing. Peaceful and sacred. A time to unplug from the world and plug back into God.
But no one talks about the part where you unplug from food and plug back into starving.
My parents had declared fasting for the next few days, this was like a normal thing to do at home but this time seemed different to me, ‘cos I've been out of home for a while then, so they insisted I join them from school while they stay at home to do there's.
I woke up that morning feeling strong. “Today, I fast,” I announced that to my roommate like a warrior going into battle. I even passed up breakfast with conviction. My roommate was cooking yam and egg, I was tempted but I said to myself “Temptation shall not prosper.”
8:30am – I was still strong.
9:15am – I began to smell food that didn’t exist.
10:00am – At this point I could even hear my stomach praying in tongues.
By 11:30am, I was no longer fasting. I was fighting for my life. This has never been like this, I kept wondering while everything seemed different, maybe because I was far from home. These thoughts ran through my mind with the speed of light.
You see, fasting is easy until your mind begins to play tricks on you. Suddenly, you’re doing math: “If I lick the spoon, does that break the fast?” “If I taste the stew to see if it needs salt, does it count?” “What if I drink garri but don’t chew?” “what if I drink tea or something liquid”?
At exactly 12:07pm, disaster struck.
My neighbor brought in hot puff-puffs. Fresh, golden. Smelling like the bakery. I resisted and overcame it. I gazed at it... for too long. And I was just looking at my roommate munching this puff-puff like her life depended on it, even after she had breakfast that morning.
I just knew when my problem started was when I decided to stay home and observe that fasting. The spirit was willing but the flesh was sooooo weak.
One puff-puff got the better of me. Just one tiny round ball.
But let me ask you please, what is the significance of one puff-puff leading to rice, stew, and a “small” bit of meat? That’s the end of spiritual discipline. The fasting was not broken, it was shattered.
And the most amusing thing? I immediately felt my strength come back after eating. I was born again… with strength. I even said, “God understands.”
You see, fasting has taught me many things.
The aroma of food is louder when you are fasting and you're trying to stay disciplined. That discipline and self-control is strongest at 6am and weakest at 12noon.
But seriously, the experience of failed fasting is more like a collective one. Most people begin with passion, and end with zobo. Some begin with dry fasting, and end with a full course meal. And still, they'll attempt again next time as if nothing happened.
Because that’s life, sometimes you win spiritually, sometimes puff-puff wins physically, it did not win me, I promise. 😂
And so, to all those people out there who have adjusted their fasting hours, extended their break time, or swallowed something they were just holding, I see you, and you’re not alone.
But next time, we rise again.
Definitely with less puff puff distractions, and with more willpower.
Let’s not give up, though, ‘cos I didn't, even after puff-puff had won.
But, please, if you’re fasting, stay away from the kitchen or even your house because, trust me, it’s not for the faint of heart.
I just hope my parents knew about this.