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I think if you watched the animation “Cloudy with a Chance of Falling Meatballs,” then you would understand me better. After watching that cartoon it felt like a world was opened up to me and my siblings, a food world different from the typical Nigerian food world. We were salivating while watching that cartoon.
As kids, my siblings and I developed one unanimous belief—American food was the gold standard. We didn’t just admire it; we idolized it. Watching movies and cartoons where kids munched on burgers bigger than their faces, dipped crispy fries in ketchup, and slurped creamy milkshakes made our simple meals feel like punishment.

After watching it the first time, it was by the grace of God that we didn't eat in the dream, which is believed by some people, including my mom, that it was a bad omen.
Well, I didn't eat in my dream doesn't mean I didn't dream of a world where different kinds of food fell in abundance from the sky—I just didn't eat them.

I think that was the first time I realized that I had a lot to discover in the world of food, and that is when I made a promise to myself that someday I would travel around the globe and dive into the diverse wonders of the food of this world.
My little sister would then ask my mom, “Why aren't we eating this kind of food?" And everyone would just sigh, and my mom would answer her, “Because we are in Nigeria."

So all we could do was just watch the cartoon over and over again, salivating every time we repeated it.
One time my senior sis, who was the only one who had access to the kitchen, tried her best at making meatballs and spaghetti just as we saw in the cartoon. It didn't turn out well but wasn't a total mess either. What was done in the hope of satisfying the hunger we had only ended up adding a couple of gallons of fuel to the fire in us with its bland taste.

Eventually, the fire seemed to die down. I don't know about my siblings, but as for me? I still have that hunger deep within me and would let it out when I can sponsor myself.

So we all moved on, knowing little that we were about to get what we all wished for in the next few weeks.

After some weeks our golden dream arrived without giving us a warning.

We had an aunt who relocated abroad—America, with her family, the previous year. So that week, after we got back from church on Sunday with my mom, we met a huge carton wrapped thoroughly. We were all wondering what it was.

My mom went inside the room, and while she and my dad talked, we listened closely and overheard my dad saying it was a surprise delivery from my aunt who was in America.
My mom went straight to open it while we all perched around waiting for the reveal.

There were some things we didn't know before we finally reached what we could never not know what they were—there were a lot of snacks and cans of different colors and kinds. You should have seen the way we gathered around my mom, our eyes shining and our mouths already watering.

My mom separated a few things before leaving the rest of the snacks to us, “You people should share it,"

We didn’t wait. No prayers, no instructions—just hands flying, wrappers tearing, and mouths working. It was all we dreamed of, until it wasn't.

It was so much, chips, curled cheese, candy, canned food, and soda. And we didn't leave any sugar surviving. We couldn't even stand to wash our hands when we were done. It's not like our stomachs were filled. I would describe it as a feeling of satisfaction, relishing in the moment even though it has passed.

About two hours later, it was then that we experienced the saying “all that glitters is not gold.” Our golden dream took a sharp turn—to the toilet.

One by one we began to feel it—the turning, the rumble, the pain and regrets. My sister was the first to rush to the toilet, and soon every toilet in the house was in use as we took turns.

My dad blamed my mom. My mom said she didn't expect us to finish it all at once. She thought we would want to enjoy and prolong the moment and eat it slowly, and even save some, but she underestimated us. She scolded us while laughing at us.
It was a day I would never forget.