It has become a matter of national concern that people with more than one stomach are a threat to the national health agenda as stipulated in the millennium development goals.

As a result, I have found myself and my three stomachs isolated and threatened. I do not particularly have a problem with these recent findings; I have been trying to divorce from the said stomachs for a while now. But visceral fat and I are Siamese twins; someone needs to call Ben Carson asap.

I have tried Intermittent Fasting, which went as smoothly as passing a kidney stone. Enzymes would wake me up at 2 AM to make them Chapati, and as you know, chapati is enemy of flat-stomach development.

But have you ever slept, and your stomach started talking in tongues? Have you? Have you ever felt the mitochondria and the spleen start singing “solidarity together” while you try to close your eyes? Have you ever felt the Loop of Henle strangle your intestines in hunger? I have, and I’m not planning to die that way.

I turned and tossed and even attempted to invite dreams about food so that I can feel a little better. Instead, I had dreams about being back in boarding school. It was the inter-boards exams day, and for the love of all things delicious, I couldn’t find my class or my pen! I woke up crying and even hungrier.

So today, after seeing before-and-after phorros of a mama-turned-teenager, I started feeling all green smoothies and broccoli. I decided, this is it – I’m going to make a smoothie.

I gathered up the things in my fridge that looked remotely healthy. I cut up some lettuce, a few grapes, and an apple. I knew it would taste like the vanity of vanities, so I threw in a ginger clove. I found some pumpkin seeds and threw that in too. The more, the merrier, right?

I gave it a good blitz for 5 minutes. When I was sure I would not be encountering entire lettuce leaves, I stopped blending and poured them into a cup.

The smoothie looked pale – like it had just received bad news. I know the thought of going into my several stomachs was terrible news, so I felt a little pity for the smoothie. I wasn’t too sure if the ginger would make things better, so I squeezed in a lemon.

Then I took my first sip.

My taste buds were so shocked they started to ribashakashikarubberrulernapencil. I haven’t recovered. I’m still slain.

I have just come here to tell you all that drink smoothies – you are legends! You deserve to be granted the Elder of the order of the Golden Heart. You should be awarded the Order of the Burning Spear and the other orders there are in the books. Whatever they gave Githeri man must be taken away right now and given to the smoothie drinkers! You are the real OGs. You are the GOATs. The only OG and GOAT greater than you is the black panther guy and DMX.

Hold my smoothie; I’m calling mama mahamri! Cheei. I’ll start dieting tomorrow.

PS: Please eat healthily; it may save your life. I’m in no way advocating for bad eating habits.

4 thoughts on “Smoothie

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