• I have been tossing these food questions in my mind for months. Today, I thought, what better place to ask them than here? Be honest with yourself, and perhaps you might find out where food ranks in your heart, and where you rank on the foodie scale.

    1. Be honest, do you think Jollof Rice tastes better than Fried Rice?

    2. Do you actually hate Bounty or are you just trying to act cool?

    Bounty Chocolate Bar, 57g: Amazon.in: Grocery & Gourmet Foods

    3. Don’t you think Pounded Yam is overrated?

    4. Do you actually hate Amala or you just want to feel among?

    5. Does chocolate cake deserve the hype you’re giving it?

    6. If avocados were the last thing on earth, would you still claim to hate them?

    7. Deep down, deep down, do you hate Semo?

    8. Does anyone actually enjoy mint ice cream or y’all are just pretending for the internet?

    9. Do you eat because you enjoy eating or because it’s an obligation you need to fulfil?


    Here’s last week’s Ranking:

    We Ranked Your Favourite Childhood Biscuits From Worst To Best


  • Are you even Nigerian if your parents didn’t tell you not to collect food from strangers, classmates, neighbours, because they didn’t want you to be initiated into witchcraft?

    Because I was interested in knowing if anybody ever got initiated, I put out a call for stories. Here are the answers I got.

    Emem.

    I was 6 at the time, and a new student in Primary 2. My seat partner was a girl called Oyiza. Becoming her seat partner meant that her best friend had to move to another seat, and she hated it. It soon became a serious issue, very serious that teachers had to intervene. They made us ‘hug it out’ in front of the whole class.

    I was skeptical of the ‘hug’ as a solution to everything. Oyiza had been mean towards me, she tore my notes, lied against me, and hugging her was the right solution? But they were our teachers and they knew best, so I went along with it. The next day, Oyiza brought me candy.

    In retrospect, I shouldn’t have taken it. But we were turning a new leaf, so I collected it and licked. My weird dreams began that night. In the dreams, I was being sent to retrieve bones and skulls for a skeleton queen. And there was a condition: I had to arrive on time or I would die at the end of the mission. The dreams went on for three more days before they stopped. For a while after that, whenever I wished something bad on people, like sickness, it would happen.

    This was when I became convinced that I’d been initiated, I became scared and confessed to my parents. They took me for deliverance and I missed school for a week. When I returned, Oyiza had transferred out of our school.

    Mirabel.

    This happened back when my parents needed someone to stay with their younger children while they were away at work. My mother spoke to her relatives and they brought someone from the village, a young girl whose age I can’t remember now. She was older than me and my twin sister, but we were very young, so she wasn’t that old. Perhaps in her late teens. She would cook, and do the necessary things, but most importantly, she looked after us (me, my twin, and my younger brother) while our parents were away at work. Naturally, we were close to her. After all, she was the only older figure in the house with us.

    One day, we were playing in the house and she carried one of our teddy bears and said she would use it to communicate with her boyfriend, Kelvin. Right there, she started talking in a very weird voice.

    “Kelvin, Kelvin, I summon you!”

    We thought it was a joke, that she was play-acting to entertain us. But she wasn’t. She told us she was sending him madness. It didn’t exactly make sense to us, but nobody pressed her further. Now, there was this other lady in our apartment block who was friends with our maid, and who, in our maid’s later confession, happened to be a witch too. One day, they were both licking ice cream. The lady offered it to me and my sister. I’ve always had a sweet tooth, so I collected it and licked, but my twin sister refused.

    Not long after, things started to go bad in the family. Money issues, and my parents were fighting a lot, so my mother attended a prayer meeting with the maid. I wasn’t taken along, but it was during this prayer meeting that she confessed.

    In the story that we were told by my mother, the plan was to initiate me and my twin, but according to her confession, our orisa ibeji was too strong for her to penetrate. We went for deliverance after that, and she was sent back to the village.

    Dorcas.

    I was 3 and we had a housemaid, Aunty Lara. My mum had always warned that I let her know whatever I eat or I’m given outside, but one day, I took a stroll with Aunty Lara and she bought me fried fish. She asked me not to tell anyone, but I told my mum about the fish. Aunty Lara was angry, and I apologized because she really liked me a lot.

    I slept in my parents’ room that night. When I woke up in the middle of the night to pee, I saw different types of birds trying to take me away. I screamed, and my parents woke up and began to pray and call Holy Ghost Fire. I kept screaming. Eventually, “fire” caught one of the birds and it melted on the floor. Then the rest disappeared. That was when Aunty Lara knocked on the door. The conclusion my parents drew was that I was to be initiated with the fried fish. I went for deliverance, Aunty Lara too. But deliverance or not, she had to leave our house. Life continued, I grew older, we relocated and I forgot all about it.

    About 10 years later, I went to visit my family friends who took over that house from us. When I went into the room where the incident happened, I saw the stain from the melted bird. So I asked them, “You people didn’t clean this stain?” and they said “What stain?”

    Apparently, I was the only one who could see it. My mother swears Aunty Lara was really a witch who confessed that she wanted to initiate me. But which African mother won’t? I’m not even religious now, and I have psychosis. It’s a condition that affects the way your brain processes information, and it causes you to lose touch with reality. You might see, hear, or believe things that aren’t real. So, while my mother confirms the incident, it could just have been my mind in a state, because to me, there’s no logical explanation for the whole incident.

    Anjola.

    My father was abusive. He often hit me and my mother, and one day I told this girl, my classmate, that I was having problems at home. I didn’t know about her; I just needed someone to share my story with and she was available. One day, she told me that she could give me something that would help me do anything to my dad because he was the root of the problems. All I just had to do was eat whatever she brought for me. I wanted to be done with my father’s abuse, so I agreed. I was 8, same as the girl.

    She started bringing boiled egg, boiled plantain, banana, eko (agidi), moin moin. I ate it for like a week and then she told me that after school the following day, I would follow her to a place where I would be given the powers. I said okay. I didn’t want my mother to be worried if I came home late the next day, so when I got home that Thursday, I asked for permission to follow the girl. That was when my mother started asking questions and I answered everything. My mother beat the hell out of me. She said, “So you want to be a witch? You want to be a witch, abi?”

    After beating me, she took me to a church where they did deliverance for me, white-garment style. They lit coloured candles around me, burned incense and told me to kneel down inside the circle of candles. Then they flogged me with a broom, and gave me something to drink. I vomitted for two days straight.

    By the time I was going back to school, my mum told me to avoid the girl. I didn’t want to, so I went and tried to talk to her, but she was running away from me. The next day she didn’t come to school and that was the last I heard of her.

    Yetunde.

    I wasn’t initiated but I came very close. This is why I dislike Amala till date.

    I was 7 or 8 then, and we had a housegirl. She was about 16. My mum was pregnant and she needed extra hands since me or my siblings weren’t old enough to assist her, so she reached out to her friend who brought the girl. My father enrolled her in school, and her duties were to prepare our meals, clean the house and assist the cleaning lady to wash our clothes. I often joined her to do whatever she thought I could handle, and we soon became so close that I started to follow her about. I was young and gullible, and I had no sister figure, so she filled that gap.

    But my father soon began to suspect her. Her spirit, he said, was antagonising his. He is a traditionalist, and sometimes calls himself a herbalist, so he knows things. He kept the suspicions to himself; I think he wanted to have concrete evidence.

    And then my dreams began. In it, a cloaked figure was always trying to grab me, but just before it happened, I would blurt out “Jesus! Jesus!” and be jolted awake. I thought I could handle it, so I never told anyone. Once, I told her about the dreams, but she didn’t look fazed. I did not read any meaning into this.

    Until the night she served Amala. That night, my mum told her to prepare Amala for the house. When she was done, she dished everyone’s portions in separate plates as always. But for the first time, she specified which food was mine and which one belonged to my siblings. That was what spiked my father’s suspicion.

    He told her to serve him my food instead but she insisted that the food was meant for me and no one else. My dad insisted too, and she declined vehemently. According to her, the portion she dished was the size I always ate. I didn’t see the big deal, but it was already becoming an argument. Finally, my dad ate the food, and she became angry.

    When he ate the food, my father felt something in his body. But whatever it was, it didn’t work on him, because he wasn’t her target. That was when she began to shout that the food was for me and not my father. She was hysterical. She confessed that she put something inside my Amala, and that the food was the last stage of my initiation. She confessed that she went to meetings too. It then clicked that she was the reason for the dreams because the meeting days coincided with the days I had those dreams. Her luggage was checked, and we found some of my personal items, including my hair comb.

    My father can tell a more detailed story about this period. But I don’t want to ask him because it would bring back memories. Since that time though, he has been very protective of me. And we never employed another housegirl after that.


  • Listen, you need to assert independence with Nigerian parents or they will never let you live the life you’re destined to live. If you want to let them know that you have grown wings, follow our advice and claim your independence.

    1. Start small: Come home late.

    If you have a curfew, go past it. Maybe once a week at first, and then two times, and finally four times in a row. First, they will complain. And then complain further. Finally, they will keep quiet. You’re becoming a bad bitch.

    2. Go further: Don’t sleep at home.

    They should have known that it was bound to happen. After all, you’ve gone past your curfew consecutively. When you go back home, they’ll likely ask you to return to where you’re coming from. Don’t answer them. Don’t go anywhere. Stand and look at them. Ehen, what will they do? Will they beat you?

    3. Go even further: Dye your hair.

    Omo Ghetto (The Saga)": The Official Video for “Askamaya Anthem” feat.  Funke Akindele-Bello, Chioma Akpotha, Eniola Badmus & Bimbo Thomas is Here!  | BellaNaija

    This one will be revealed by surprise. First tie scarf around the house. They will think you have changed your ways. And then one day when they have guests, remove the scarf and show them your purple or gold hair. Let shock catch them. They kuku cannot start commanding you in front of visitors. You that you’re an intern bad bitch.

    4. Ascend: Get a tattoo.

    You know what’s even badder? When you use their money. Say, they gave you school fees or money to buy their medications. Or even money to cook soup. Imagine the scenario:

    Your parents: BISOLA!

    You: Yes? (chewing gum)

    Your mother: What happened to the soup we said you should cook?

    You: I’ve used the money to draw tattoo oh.

    It’s shout they will shout. Last-last, they will give you another money to cook soup.

    5. Reign supreme: Turn the living room to a night club.

    What is bad in that? Is it not you that will still inherit the house?

    6. Confront them: Tell them that you have no plans to marry.

    Or give birth to children for that matter. If they ask you why, tell them that you’re not for that life. This is how you should say it:

    “I’m a happening babe, please. Don’t stress me. If you want grandchildren, adopt.”

    They’ll probably disown you after everything, but don’t panic. You be bad bitch. Bad bitch no dey panic.

    Omo Ghetto At It Again - YouTube

  • Nigerian women are the grandmasters of see-finish, and you must prevent this. The easiest way to do that is to date a short woman. But if you end up with a taller one or even a short one with gra-gra, this is how to avoid see-finish.

    1. Never let her know your age.

    The moment she knows it, everyone knows it. You’ll now pass and they will know you’re just 24. You with your big body. So, whenever she asks you, lie. Add 10 years to your age or 7. If she decides to break up, it’s her loss. Let her go and meet the small-small boys she can disrespect.

    2. She must never call you “Big head.”

    WARNING: Don't view these 16 Odunlade Adekola memes in public or else...!  [+Video where it all started]

    Which useless big head? It’s her father’s head that is big. What nonsense. From “Big head,” she will start asking you to bring remote for her, and she will lose all respect for you. If she cannot you Boss, Senior Man, Oluaye Bambam, Baba Kofoshi, let her get out of your life.

    3. Let her know that you don’t have time for rough play.

    odunlade sorry | Zikoko!

    You see that tapping of bumbum, refuse it for her. If she ever dares to hit you with a pillow in the name of a pillow fight, tell her to kneel down, raise up her hands and close her eyes. Is she alright??

    4. DO NOT COHABIT.

    Did you hear what I said? Do not cohabit! Why are you even cohabiting in the first place? When it’s not BBNaija. It is from cohabiting that she will see what you look like in the morning, and also see how vulnerable you are in the middle of the night. You don’t believe me? Ask Ozo, let him tell you his story.

    5. You must never let her see your nakedness.

    Even during sex, be fully clothed. Once she sees your complete bulk, her view of you diminishes. Small time, she will say, “Who do you even think you are?” And that, my brother, is a sign that you have “cast.”

    6. Never split the bill.

    7 Times This Jide Kosoko Meme Made Us Laugh - KRAKS

    Either she pays or you don’t go out with her. It’s high time you recognised your self-worth before she insults you over a plate of seafood okro that does not have ponmo.

    7. You must never moan during sex.

    Ladies are dangerous. You moan like this, they know your weak point and will prepare to use it against you. So, even if her head game is fire, even if she is a wonder woman with a WAP, always do your mouth pim.

    8. If you decide to marry her, let her bring her family to you.

    All Hail The Nigerian Lord Of The Memes | by DigiEngage Nigeria |  DigiEngage | Medium

    Oh, you want to go to her family house and start prostrating? So that next time you people argue, she will say, “You kuku begged to marry me”? My guy, it is high time you understood your self-worth oh. Men are hot cakes. If she does not marry you, her younger sister will rush you.

    You be spec, never forget that.


  • When we talk about biscuits from our childhood, the usual favourites come to mind: Speedy, Digestives, Pako Biscuits, Coasters, etc. But on a scale of 1-10, how do these biscuits rank?

    Because those biscuits are your favourite, you might be biased in your ranking. That’s why we took it upon ourselves to do the ranking for you.

    Enjoy!

    9. Pako biscuit

    I still don’t get the point of this biscuit, tbh. Who on earth decided that as children, the next snack to munch on is one that tastes like wood. If you were one of those who enjoyed this biscuit as a child, you’re probably a cultist now. Confess before we fish you out.

    8. Fishly

    This is mid, if we are being honest. It didn’t have anything ‘fishly’ in it. To me, it is a softer, tastier version of Pako biscuits. It’s a wonder how people loved it. The Spicy Fish Cake beats this hands-down, but I couldn’t find a photo online, so…

    7. Digestive

    The Digestive before Digestives LMAO. This is the biscuit to eat if you’re broke and hungry or you’re trying to save lunch money. Just buy two and drink a whole cup of water and your stomach will be as tight as a drum.

    6. Coconut

    The selling point of this biscuit was the coconut flavour. It was so markedly different from the others with that taste. But then, it’s an afterthought for most kids. A lot of us didn’t go out with the intention of getting it. We only bought it if the others were not available.

    5. Biscao

    I LOVE THIS BISCUIT A LOT! I often think I’m the only one who does, because I don’t usually see people as hyped about it as I am. But in terms of taste, Biscao wins. Flavour and size, Biscao wins. OK Foods was in their bag when they made this biscuit. It’s a solid 5 for me.

    4. Speedy

    Speedy would have been below, but this biscuit fought the good fight and satisfied a LOT of Nigerian children, even adults. In terms of look, it’s not 100%, but one taste and you’ll be willing to overlook every other thing.

    PS: As an adult, it bangs with garri. Just empty it into your bowl of garri, add the remaining accessories, and enjoy a delightful taste.

    3. Pepper Snack

    I am sure a Yoruba man was the one who pitched the idea of this pepper-flavoured biscuit. If we calculate it, the higher percentage of people who love this biscuit will be Yoruba.

    I’m not even joking. I mean, it’s number 3 on this list. That’s to show you how Yoruba I am.

    2. Okin

    This was the OG, the original of all originals. They dominated the market in a way that surprised everyone, but then they had a unique taste to match it. It deserves no other spot than this.

    Also, can they pleaseeee bring it back?

    1. Coaster

    Coaster is really deserving of the number 1 spot. Yes, the biscuit has undergone severe changes in taste and quantity: First, it was 6 in the pack, and then it became 5, and then 4. I think it’s now 3, or maybe they’re getting there. Even then, we cannot deny that Coaster still reigns supreme. We stan.


  • What is Okrika and what is Thrift? And more importantly, how are they different? Worry yourself no more. Today, we give you a comprehensive analysis of the differences between both items.

    Shall we begin?

    1. First of all, this one is Okrika.

    7 Things We Want To Buy At The Night Market | Zikoko!

    2. And this one is Thrift.

    Well, what is the difference? You ask. Wait, we’re getting there.

    3. Okrika is in its raw and unprocessed form.

    Okirika Business In Nigeria: All You Need To Know

    As in, say, na as e take arrive them take sell am. Them no dey allow okrika drink water drop cup.

    4. But you see Thrift, thrift na happening babe.

    Image may contain: 1 person, standing

    Thrift na Okrika wey don bath, collect starch, iron, and perfume for body, come slay for Twitter and Instagram.

    5. If they were both human beings, Okrika and Thrift would be qualified candidates, but Thrift will always get the job because of proper packaging.

    Image

    Moral lesson? Always package yourself well. Na person wey no know when he go succeed dey always waka like Okrika.

    6. Okrika is bend-down-carry-yansh-up-chook-finger-in-the-pile-and select.

    7 Things We Want To Buy At The Night Market | Zikoko!

    AKA “Bend Down Select“, “Na here Rihanna dey buy“, “Even Beyonce sabi correct thing.” Once you mention Okrika, everybody knows what you’re out to do. The only way to save yourself is by saying you’re going to Okrika, the port town in Rivers State, Nigeria.

    7. But Thrift is a dictionary name. Fancy and posh. You can say you’re going Thrifting, and people will think you’re out on a fancy holiday or visiting a fancy spa.

    Starting Up A Thrift "Okrika" Business In Nigeria | FindthePro Blog

    I await the day an overambitious Christian Igbo family will name their first daughter “Thrift.” Or, to make it more religious, “ThriftOfGod.” If Scholastica, Perpetual (aka Peppetual), Cletus, GodKnows, OpenHeavens, and God’sBattleAxe can exist, what is ThriftOfGod that they cannot use?


    Weird Names Nigerian Parents Give Their Children


  • Getting the best shawarma experience has proven itself to be a game of luck. You can get a good one today and taste the worst thing tomorrow. The stories of these people who responded to my call for terrible shawarma stories prove it.

    The first answer came from a Nigerian studying in the abroad.

    Bola.

    I school in the U.K. and this particular summer, I didn’t go home. So while everyone else was doing Vida la Nigeria and I was seeing suya, shawarma, and all the other goodies, I could not relate. Where I lived was a student area and had lots of restaurants and food places, so my friend suggested a shawarma place. It was Middle Eastern, the true owners of shawarma, it couldn’t be bad, abi? I was so wrong. I carried my daddy and mummy’s money and bought U.K.-based shawarma and I was plunged into distress. It was bland, the bread was dry and the insides didn’t help matters. The chicken wasn’t seasoned, the sauce was almost nonexistent and the cabbage was just stealing the show and doing too much. I kuku ate it because money cannot waste.

    Listen ehn, shawarma, suya, isi ewu oh, if you go there and you do not see a Nigerian by the fire, please run. Don’t buy it. Just run.

    After reading, you’d probably join her to stan Nigerian-made shawarma. But then, Nigerians who ate shawarma made by Nigerians beg to differ.

    Ifeoma.

    I was in Owerri, and I was looking for the best place to get shawarma. I found one, and it was good, but when I went back there the next day, they didn’t have. I should have gone home, but I decided to stroll further. And then I saw this new shawarma spot. The woman in charge told me she would start from scratch. I said okay, and then she brought out a loaf of bread.

    I should have run, but I didn’t. Before my very eyes, this woman ‘baked’ the bread by putting it on a pan and pressing it flat. Next thing, she got the other ingredients and there was no sausage. When I asked her for the sausage, she said, “Since I started this business, I never put satis (that’s what they call sausage in Owerri) in my shawarma. Don’t worry, you won’t notice that it’s not there.” Again, I should have run, but I stayed.

    The other thing she put looked so much like fish. When I asked if it was chicken or beef, she said it was beef. After wrapping everything, she pressed it on the same pan she pressed the bread. I paid N1,500 and went home.

    As it turned out, what she put was just fish and crayfish. No cream, no pepper. I basically paid N1,500 for bread and fish. And you see that thing about not noticing that the shawarma didn’t have sausage, it’s a lie. From the first bite, I knew that sausage was obviously lacking in that shawarma.

    Elohor.

    I was in Lagos for an interview, and I was staying at a friend’s place in Yaba. Not far from us was a food joint that doubles as a shawarma spot at night. Because I’d eaten there in the afternoon and it tasted good, I trusted them and ordered shawarma there one night. They said it would take about 15 minutes.

    I should have known when I got there and there was nobody rushing them. Nobody on a queue or anything, and they didn’t even have their veggies cut ready. Eventually, they gave me the shawarma. When I bit into it, it was egusi soup that filled my mouth. Even the meat or whatever that was in it tasted of egusi. I just spat it out and threw it away.

    Moyin.

    Had the worst shawarma of my life at a cinema in Asaba. First, the thing was cold. Like they brought it out from the fridge and put it on a table to defrost. I don’t even know what type of meat they put inside. Anyway it’s my fault sha. What else should I have expected from Asaba shawarma?

    Akintunde

    I was in 200L, Babcock University, and getting meat was not so easy. One night, this guy came knocking on my door and said he had shawarma for 1k. I did a quick transfer and collected the shawarma. It had gotten cold so I steamed it up with a kettle. It tasted a bit sour when I took a bite, but I didn’t mind. What was worse, the bits of chicken was like leather. Extremely rubbery and nearly impossible to swallow. I struggled through it before I gave up and offered it to my roommates.

    But it didn’t end there. At 2AM, my stomach woke me up. The rumbling was too violent. I quickly rushed to the toilet, just to see my roommate who had taken the other part of the shawarma fighting his own war in the restroom. I was begging him to hurry up and get out but he couldn’t. That midnight, I went around looking for a toilet. At 2AM.

    Florence.

    My regular shawarma guy was not around, so I decided to take risks. I didn’t know that would be my downfall. First red flag, the shawarma was wrapped in brown paper. Nobody wraps shawarma in brown paper. It’s usually white. It was five hundred naira, so I bought two. In my head, I was about to get down into the enjoyment. Oh boy, was I wrong! First bite, I tasted bread instead of chicken and mayonnaise. I decided to make tea since I’m eating bread. When the water was boiling, I took another bite, and red pepper poured in my mouth. Red grounded pepper. But this time, I felt chicken, so I ate some more. And then the sausage scattered. Sausage that is usually firm and juicy, it shattered into pieces, almost like it was expired and raw.

    *Nonso and Aishat.

    This one is a popular brand, known for making something else. You know them, but I’ll leave you to figure it out. Sha, I went there for something else but I realised they had shawarma, so I decided to try it. It was like sausage roll, the kind they hawk in traffic, even smaller, because you could literally fit the whole thing into a tissue paper tube.

    tissue paper tube

    For starters, there was a lot of ata rodo in it. When it’s not pepper soup I want to eat. And the sausage was not whole, rather, it was chopped into smaller pieces. I could even count it. Who does that? Honestly, that shawarma should be wiped out of existence.

    NB: Nonso and Aishat had the same experience but at different branches of the same brand, so I conflated their stories into one.

    Tinuke.

    Akobo, Ibadan, that’s where I had the worst shawarma ever. I think the sausage was raw, honestly. They didn’t use any ketchup in the mix, they just put mayonnaise and closed it up. I paid N1,200, I even bought one more for my sister, making N2,400. When she tasted it, she hissed and kept on hissing in disgust. The next morning, I found the shawarma in the trash.

    Godwin.

    The shawarma was bought for my siblings and me to share, so we brought out a knife. It was my first time tasting shawarma, and I was excited, but this thing refused to cut. As in, the knife couldn’t penetrate it. We had to look for a knife that has a serrated edge (those type with teeth that would injure you if you mistakenly touch it). That was when we could cut it.

    Asides from the hard crust, the dominant ingredient was the pepper. It was so hot! While struggling to bite the shawarma, the stuffing was spilling all over the place and the pepper was too hot. Imagine your eyes tearing up, nose running, fingers stopping the contents from coming out of the wrap, yet being unable to take a decent bite! Ọmọ I gave up ó. I just gave it to my siblings. Me I didn’t get what the hype was about.

    This experience was so bad that the next time I ate shawarma 2 or 3 years later, I got a plate, unwrapped the crust, and ate the insides with a spoon. The crust of this tasted just like raw noodles. In all, I’ve eaten shawarma 5 times and I’m yet to eat a good one.

    Read: 12 Nigerians Talk About Their Cooking Disasters

    Chika.

    I ordered the complete package: chicken shawarma with sausage and all that is necessary. N1,200. Right in front of my eyes, this guy diluted the mayonnaise and ketchup bottles with water. Me I thought it was because of thickness, but looking back now, I realise that the dressing was about to finish or even finished, so he filled them with little water, shook them and went on.

    Later when I got home, I saw that the shawarma bread was too thin. He used just one tortilla. The ketchup and mayonnaise were both too thin, and this was in Lagos, Ago Palace Way.

    Fisayo.

    It was at Foodies at Jericho. I smoked a blunt and the hunger kicked in. I’d just moved back from school and did not have a shawarma plug. Someone told me to try Foodies at Jericho in. I bought 2 cos I was so hungry. Ló and behold, oga did not put cream in any of the shawarma. I was full on sorrow and disappointment that day.


  • To blow as a talented person in Nigeria can be quite difficult, especially if you don’t know the ropes or what to do at certain times. But we are good people who are interested in the growth of talented people, we have ideas for you!

    1. First of all, put in the work.

    This one is the number one thing. Put in the work of developing yourself so you can go head to head with the other talents who are out there. If you must blow like them, you must first work as hard as them, even more.

    2. Be consistent.

    Don’t introduce a vibe you cannot maintain. Let consistency be your watchword.

    3. Brand yourself.

    What do you want to be known for? It’s time to actively think about it, and then walk and work in that direction.

    4. Interact meaningfully.

    You have a platform, be on-brand with it. Don’t tweet or post something off-brand or out of colour. Be known for quality and consistency.

    5. Join the Olekoo App

    Olekoo App is a Nigerian social media platform where talents, influencers and artists can make money when they broadcast live shows from anywhere. It was released in January 2021 and has since been described as a mashup of IG Live, CashApp and also as the Nigerian ClubHouse. 


    The great thing about Olekoo app is that you as an artist or a social media influencer can start your own Live Shows (Rooms) on the app and see your followers send you gifts for showcasing your talents. The gifts are converted to cash and paid out to your bank account or PayPal. It is an easy way to make money showcasing your talent.

    And if you sell online or do makeup, you can showcase your products and get people placing orders in realtime.


    There are also regular competitions too that allow talents to win prizes like mentorship, label sign-up or just cash prizes.

    Why not join Olekoo App today and give your career a significant boost? What are you waiting for?


  • Our first instinct is to doubt that miracles occur because it is beyond the scope of what we perceive as normal. For this article, I spoke to 7 Nigerians who shared with me the weirdest and most interesting miracles they ever experienced.

    Ada

    In 2018, my mother’s church had a fasting and prayer program, so we were all attending. On a certain day, the guest minister who came was praying for the sick. I was not ‘sick’, but I’d had something stuck in one of my molars since the Christmas before, and it often caused me a lot of pain and discomfort. So, while the guest minister was praying that people will get healed, I felt something pop in my mouth, and whatever got stuck in my molar fell out. I didn’t see anything physical, but I used to feel it with my tongue before and suddenly it was no longer there. The pain too was gone. All at that moment. It was the most spiritual service I’d ever attended.

    Rachael

    One time in the university, I was shit broke and I really really needed a fix. It was so bad I couldn’t even afford the N150 transport fare to the main campus. I didn’t know what else to do so I prayed to God about it. Later that evening, I got a credit alert from an unknown person. N20k. ATM transfer. I left it in my account for that day and the next, to see what would happen, and to give whoever sent it a chance to figure out the mistake they made. That never happened, and till date, I still don’t know who sent that money. But it came through at a time I needed it the most, and that money did a LOT for me.

    Anthony

    When I was a teenager in the early 2000s, my mum took my sister and I to an outdoor Novena mass at St Agnes in Maryland. For those who don’t know, a Novena mass is a sort of service performed in honour of Mary, the mother of Jesus. It was late in the evening and we were doing some long Catholic procession. I was bored out of my mind. All of a sudden, people started exclaiming and pointing at the sun. We could all look directly at it, and there it was! Bobbing and spinning on the spot and changing colour — from blue to orange to red to gold — right there in the sky.

    This happened 15 – 20 years ago and I still don’t know what it meant, but it stuck with me. There are other documented instances of this happening around the world, usually to Catholics. If you search ‘Miracle of the Sun’, you’ll see a lot more. Now, as an adult, I have done some research and it’s not something that has a specific scientific explanation. These events have sometimes been dismissed as mass hysteria or a rare, unexplained metrological occurrence, but I know what I saw with my own two eyes.

    Biodun

    Sometime in 2017, my dad traveled to our village for a family event with his aunt and one of my cousins. On their way back to Lagos, it began to rain and their car broke down. They started to panic because nighttime was approaching and there was the fear of hoodlums attacking them while they were trying to fix the car.

    Out of nowhere, a car pulled over, and this man who was dressed in white stepped out of it. It was still raining, and another bus had broken down at the same time as my dad’s car. This man in white inspected both vehicles, and while my dad was trying to change the tyre, this man offered to help him fix it. He knelt down on the wet soil in his white outfit and began to change the tyre while my dad stood back. When he was done, my dad asked my cousin to pass the man a bottle of water to wash his hands, but there was no dirt at all on his hands. When he stood up, his white was spotless, while my dad’s palms were all muddied up. The man fixed the car and told my dad to drive behind him. The moment my dad got back to the car, his aunt told him to increase his speed and get away from the strange man. And as though the man heard what was said, he appeared beside my dad’s car and said, “I told you to follow me.” When they got to the Lagos boundary, the man waved my dad goodbye and they couldn’t trace his vehicle again.

    David

    As a child, I had severe chest pain. When we went to the hospital for an x-ray, they found nothing, so they did an echocardiogram and found out that I had holes in my heart. The solution was that I would be flown abroad for surgery. We prayed about it a lot and just before the surgery, we went for another test and they discovered that the holes were gone. Even the doctors couldn’t explain how it happened.

    Onyinye

    This happened when I was in secondary school. I attended a boarding school, one Friday during the unsupervised prep, I went to class and found a novel on the desk. My first instinct was to ‘quickly’ read it, but to do due diligence, I asked the people in class if they knew who dropped the book on my desk. No one knew, so I went straight to reading. While I was still reading, I left the class, went to several places, and in the process of going about, I finished the book. Later, when I returned to the class, I was told a senior had been looking for me. She turned out to be the owner of the book, and she wanted her book back.

    And this was where the problem started. I did not know where I kept the book.

    I went back to check the classes of every friend I’d stopped to see, walked round searching lockers of people I knew loved books too. I even checked the hostel area because I also went there at some point. Yet, I didn’t find the book. I think it’s safe to say that seniors are the main terrors of boarding school. Anyone who attended a boarding school knows this.

    My own terror was waiting for me in class. She knew my class and name and that was enough to let me know that there was no escape from whatever punishment was coming my way. I just sat on the corridor beside a hostel and cried. That was when I remembered what my mum and brother often said about being able to talk to God about even the littlest things. So I closed my eyes and muttered a prayer. It wasn’t even a prayer of faith, it was a prayer to enable me go through whatever punishment was awaiting me. As I turned to leave for class, I noticed a book at the end of the corridor, lo and behold, it was the same book I was looking for. I’m not going to lie, I’ve never loved God more than I did at that moment.

    Seyifunmi.

    When my mum was pregnant, she noticed that her stomach was unusually big for that stage of the pregnancy so she went for a scan. The scan revealed that she was carrying a baby and a life-threatening fibroid in her womb. If she wanted to live, the only solution was to do away with the baby. My mother is a nurse, so she knew this was the correct thing to do.

    But she did not want to do away with the baby. So she launched into prayers. She told nobody, not even my father. She would wake up to find that she was bleeding, yet she never stopped praying. One day, a friend visited her and said, “I had a dream about you. In the dream, you were lying down on an operating table and angels were operating on you. They brought out two things from your stomach and there was an argument between the angels on which one to put back. They put back a baby, but I don’t know which one they took away before they closed you up.”

    praying mothers

    My mum started rejoicing after she heard that because she knew God had answered her prayers. Later, when she went for another scan, there was no more fibroid, just the baby.

    I was the baby.


  • Interview With… is a Zikoko weekly series that explores the weird and interesting lives of inanimate objects and non-human entities.


    Take a second to think of an activist. Who came to your mind? FK Abudu? Falz? We can’t tell, but we are sure they were human. Well, non-human entities are just as capable of carrying out bold forms of activism, as we saw on Remembrance Day.

    In this interview, the head of the Remembrance Day Pigeons shares with us the reason they refused to fly when released by Buhari. It reveals how the animals have been fighting for Nigerians for a long time, and what’s next on their activism agenda.

    Zikoko: Can we just start by saying we salute your courage?

    Remembrance Day Pigeon: Why?

    It is not every day that the citizens of the animal kingdom step up to assist Nigerians in their struggle.

    We have been fighting for you guys since. We have never left you alone.

    Really?

    Oh yes. Have you forgotten when our brothers, the rats, chased Buhari out of Aso Rock?

    Wow. That was planned?!

    Even the snake that swallowed money came from us.

    The corrupt snake?

    The actual mission was to go and bite the Minister of Information, whose name we shall not mention.

    So what happened?

    It was corrupted by that very same minister. So you can imagine how bad this country is. Imagine a snake being corrupted. A snake that is the grandmaster of deception itself.

    That was when we decided, enough is enough. It’s time for operation national disgrace, and we knew Buhari would be the best target.

    Why Buhari?

    Why not Buhari? Buhari the travel blogger, Buhari the lifestyle TV personality, Buhari the agbada model. Why should he not be the recipient of our disgrace?

    Hmmm.

    We planned our move well. We knew they would need pigeons for the Remembrance Day, so we positioned ourselves for them to catch us. If it was someone else that released us and said, “Oya fly,” we might have listened.

    But it was Buhari. Can he even pronounce fly? He was there shouting, ‘Ply! Ply!‘ and we just looked at him like, “Who does this one think he is talking to?”

    Imo state governor too carried chest and tried to command us. A man that will chop disgrace will chop disgrace. Even if they offer him Jollof rice, he will ask for disgrace as appetizer. If we did not fly for Buhari, his oga, who is he to think we will listen to him?

    Ahan, you are bold oh.

    What will he do? Lock the border again? Restrict us from TraderMoni? Maybe he will ask Tolu to write a thread sha. We wanted to show Nigerians that if a man you call your president cannot make pigeons fly, then everything is wrong.

    So, where do we go from here?

    Tell Buhari that we have just started. We, the pigeons, are a jealous and angry lot, visiting the iniquity of the senate and Aso Rock upon the president from the first generation to the fourth generation.

    Ah.

    Tell him we are coming. If he flies to Ougadougou, he will find us there, ready to disgrace him and shit on his head if need be. Things have fallen apart in Nigeria, and the centre can no longer hold. Pigeon shit is loosened upon Aso Rock, and until they all confess, every head shall collect.


    Check back every Friday by 9AM for new Interview With episodes. To read previous stories, click here.