Glancing through the kitchen, where it happened last night. Here it happens, almost every night.

Picking up the pieces of the egg whisk I ordered from dealdey last week. 'Silver shiny and heavy' I thought, when the delivery man brought it. Now, its bent, quite faded, almost broken.

I am baking today, a special kind of cake. My regular kind of cake. Today I will be baking the purple coloured. Yesterday, I baked the pink, the day before that, I baked the red. Tomorrow I will probably bake the green.

Its the ombre cake. But I call it 'Love should cake'.

Prepared my oven for preheat.

Picking up the pots and pans scattered about the pantry. Spoons and other utensils too. '
'Bleep! My flour'
My flour poured out yesterday too. Damn! Yesterday was harder than anyother day.

I packed up the flour, with the *grains of sand that came along with it. Added two spoons of baking powder, weighed it.

Weighed the butter and eggs too.

Using the wooden spatula, mixing butter and sugar.
The mixer too had been damaged, just like the whisk; bent, quite faded and almost broken.

Added the eggs...one at a time, then the flavour, then the flour-sand mixture.

Pulled out the purple colouring and four pans.
Mix like I always do.
First pan stays neutral, second gets two drops, third gets four & the last gets six.

I dashed them into the oven. Bending and stacking.
'Ugh, my back!' It hurts.
I had bent too hard.
Unzipping my dress as I made my way to the hallway. It has a huge mirror, I use it for body examination.

'Damn' Yesterday was hard.

Love grows. Just like the ombre cake, love thickens.
Same way, people grow, people change & their true colour thicken.

Just like everyother night, he came home drunk yesterday.
He had yelled at me for adding bitterleaf to his Egusi.
The previous night, he yelled at me for using Ugu & not bitterleaf for his Egusi.

'It is this cake! It is this useless cake that you bake everyday that blocks your brain'.
As he yelled, he tossed my items to the floor. I could see my whisk falling from the upper cabinet to the hardly cemented floor of the kitchen.

'Say something'
'Say something before I hit you'
& he did. With the tower aluminium pot I had cooked his egusi & bitterleaf soup.


'Beep'!
The oven called out.
I could smell the aroma of freshly baked cake already.
'Ummm, pro' I tease myself, always.

I love to frost with vanilla buttercream.
Makes it beautiful, soft & covered.

Just how Jide was beautiful, soft & covered when I met him.

This is why I frost, brings back memories.
Like when he sent pink cupcakes & roses to my office for a month!

Haha, Yes & that othertime we went to Egypt & he would call out to anyone that cared to listen
'Hey, this is my wife. She is beautiful, Yes I know'

Memories.

And when the memories fade, I thrash the cakes.

Tomorrow, I do green. The next day, I will consider brown.








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