Kata kata over Ramadan food

I was in my room upstairs when I heard murmurs all over the yard, so I sent a boy to check. He came back and said there were half a dozen people in the courtyard. Some of them asked him to go and bring water jugs, that they were late in saying their asr prayer. […]

I was in my room upstairs when I heard murmurs all over the yard, so I sent a boy to check. He came back and said there were half a dozen people in the courtyard. Some of them asked him to go and bring water jugs, that they were late in saying their asr prayer. They said Alhaji invited them for breaking of the fast. They said they came here straight from the mosque because the Ramadan tafsir ended early today, that the Imam was not feeling fine.
A’agh! Why should anybody come for the breaking of fast at 5pm? We had worked out the invitation letter carefully. Maikaho wanted to write that the time is 6pm, but I said no, that is too early. In the civil service we were taught to be precise and to waste as little time as possible. That is why we write programs that say, “Arrival of guests, 9.40am. Arrival of special guests, 9.45am. Arrival of royal father of the day, 9.50am etc.” That is how we do it in the civil service, but Maikaho said politics is not like civil service, you should put an early arrival time so that people can stray in anytime they want, and they will be talking and gossiping and bantering until it is time for the real business. So we reached a compromise and put 6.30.
I had to come down from my room and receive these early arrivals. I sat with them in the courtyard while we awaited the arrival of others. They all sprawled on the carpet; one of them even rolled over into the grass, saying he liked its cool feeling better than the carpet. His name is Iliya, but I heard the others calling him Takabarbado. He is an important youth leader at Gangare, over at the river side. People say he is very nimble, that he navigates the political terrain the way a water bird walks on water lily. All of them were famished by the fasting, but from their sprawling position they were still telling stories, about who is vying for what in the next election. They were ridiculing all the other aspirants, saying I am the only aspirant that people are talking about.
More and more guests were soon arriving. Maikaho sent invitations to 30 people. I wanted to restrict it to 15 or at most 20, but he said no, that politicians are very prickly and that if we invite some people and fail to invite some others, it will cause a big problem for us down the road. Even as we sat in the courtyard, the aroma of food coming from the kitchen behind the house was already wafting to where we sat. My second wife Goggon Makka was in charge of the cooking that day, and she invited three of her cousins to help her, in addition to the house girls. She said there will be Kanuri dishes and Arab dishes and also Hausa dishes. She also contracted out some special kunu, and she got the butcher at Gangare to do a barbecue with a huge ram. 
Most of the guests were already there by 6.30, but we had to wait until 6.50 before the call to prayer was heard, the signal to end the day’s fast. We laid out carpets and mats to do the congregational prayer there in the courtyard before we moved into the parlour to have our meal. Different dishes of food were laid on tables from one end of the room to the other. I addressed my guests and said, “This breaking of fast is a buffet. One can start from anywhere, although I think it is better to start with the kunu and akara. The fruits are on this side; meat is on the other side; here are the fried things and omelettes; these are the cakes; and there are different types of rice, spaghetti and couscous over there. And I can see some covered dishes; we can open all of them and see what is in there.”
Before I finished talking, there was a stampede to get to the meat. I noticed that Takabarbado did not drink anything; instead he piled up mutton from the barbecue on his plate, added five large pieces of chicken on top of it, then held a bowl of cow leg pepper soup in the other hand. Haba! What kind of greed is that? The other men were no less greedy. Someone chopped off the whole hind leg of the barbecued ram and made for one corner with it; the others were saying, “Haba! There are many people now! Why did you take all that alone?” When we all sat down to eat, I saw many queer things happening. These politicians are still rural and they know nothing about modern food. I saw one man who spread butter on akara, saying that is how he does in his house. Another one poured Milo into a tea cup. I was expecting him to add water but he put a spoon and began eating it like that, saying that it gives more energy that way.
Anyway, even as we were eating, we could hear shouting down the street, in the direction of the mosque. My houseboy soon came running and said area boys were fighting over the food that we sent to the mosque for the breaking of the fast. He said one achaba rider snatched a whole bowl of meat and tried to run away with it. Other people chased him; some were saying that he was not even fasting, that he was seen drinking pure water in the afternoon, only for him to emerge at the mosque because he heard that food was coming from my house. Not long afterwards, we saw some people entering my house with broken bowls, plates and food baskets. They said the mosque’s imam was there at the gate, trying to apologise to me over what happened. He also pleaded with me not to despair but to continue to send the food. “There is rich reward in heaven for those who bring food to the mosque for the breaking of fast,” he said.