Fragapane Phobia

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I remember my 18th birthday like it was only yesterday. I was super excited. I was finally going to be legal. I heard my driver’s licence calling and my partial freedom knocking, yippeeeee!!!

I did not stop talking about the d-day. My parents were already exhausted and couldn’t wait for the day to go by. I didn’t get a sweet 16 and they promised a ‘worth-the-wait’ 18th birthday party. Preparations had been ongoing since the week before. Mummy had hired the best caterer and daddy had the drinks and dj covered.

In the course of the day, things didn’t go as planned, I had a wardrobe malfunction and my cake was fondant instead of the butter cream I ordered. As if my day could not get any worse, my big brother called to say he missed his flight and couldn’t make it till the next day.

The party was scheduled to hold by 2pm and being Africans I envisaged people arriving by 3. Everything was set and I must confess my parents did a fine job amidst all my sulking. It was 4pm and I guessed the guests were stuck in traffic because the road to my area was under construction. I decided to take a quick nap as I hadn’t really rested the night before.

I woke up by 7pm and thought it was a dream. At first I smiled thinking I was going to
hear surprise!!!, the way it’s done in Hollywood. To my utmost dismay, the only surprise I got was an empty house save my parents and my siblings.

My parents walked up to me wearing apologetic looks and I figured something was off. I started crying even before i knew what the matter was. They started apologising and telling how much they loved me blah! blah!, daddy finally let me in on the fact that he had forgotten to distribute the invites and only discovered an hour before I woke up when he reached for a file in his briefcase. I fainted

They had tried calling some of the guests but the notice was too short. My birthday was during the festive season and everyone was caught up in the festivity. At about 8pm some of my neighbours showed up. Although my parents have tried to make up for that uneventful day, little did they know I had developed fragapane phobia.
‘Fragapane phobia: Fear of celebrating birthdays’


10 thoughts on “Fragapane Phobia

  1. KT, nice write up. Good to know, let me go back to the market to return the IPhone 7 I bought as your birthday gift. The way I see it, the fear of celebrating birthdays is a cost saving device in this era of low oil prices, so we’ll done.

    Keep writing though, we will celebrate your written work instead and invite people to your book read via email instead of planning to use NIPOST.โ€Ž


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