Fire in the Pot
In the heart of Lagos, two women dominated the streets with their food businesses. Mama Tunde, the queen of their local buka, was beloved for her jollof rice and pepper soup, which always had people queuing for hours. Her competitor, Iya Bisi, was not so fortunate. Her once thriving shop had become a ghost town, as people flocked to Mama Tunde’s bustling spot.
But Iya Bisi was not one to give up so easily. Behind her bitter smile, a plan brewed. She approached Mama Tunde one evening after the market had closed, her face twisted with anger. “You think you’ve won abi, Mama Tunde? You’ve taken my customers, but you won’t hold onto them for long”, she warned, her voice low and venomous.
Mama Tunde waved her off, unfazed. “Iya Bisi, this is not a battle. There’s enough room in the market for both of us. If your food is good, people will come”. But taking a lesson in patience or humility did not interest Iya Bisi.
That night, she started whispering to the market women, spreading a tale that Mama Tunde’s food was laced with juju. She claimed anyone who ate it would fall under a spell, losing their appetite for any other food.
The rumors spread like wildfire. Within weeks, Mama Tunde’s customers vanished, leaving her shop eerily quiet. She noticed it, of course, the way people suddenly avoided her stall, but instead of reacting in haste, she waited. She knew something that Iya Bisi did not: that patience, like well cooked pepper soup, brings out the best flavor.
Patience…brings out the best flavor.
Months later, the annual Lagos Food Festival was announced. It was the perfect stage for Mama Tunde’s comeback. But she didn’t go there with jollof rice or pepper soup. No, she was saving those for later. Instead, she worked quietly in her kitchen, perfecting a secret recipe she had been experimenting with- ekuru, a special bean cake that melted in your mouth and left a lingering spice.
The day of the festival arrived. Iya Bisi was there, with her mountain of fried rice and party stew, laughing loudly and boasting about her new status as the queen of the market. But as soon as Mama Tunde’s ekuru hit the judges’ table, everything changed.
The aroma alone silenced the crowd. The first bite was enough to make the judges nod in approval, their eyes widening in surprise. By the time they finished, they couldn’t stop raving. The judges declared Mama Tunde’s dish the winner, and the crowd surged towards her stall, eager to taste her magic once again.
Iya Bisi watched in disbelief. Her rice stood untouched, her stew unforgotten. She pushed her way through the crowd and tasted Mama Tunde’s ekuru herself. Her face contorted as she realized what had happened. The flavors were perfect- soft, spicy, and complex, a dish that even she could not match.
Revenge is best served cold…unlike good pepper soup.
As Mama Tunde packed up her winnings, she caught Iya Bisi’s stunned gaze and smiled. “Iya Bisi, revenge, unlike good pepper soup, is best served cold. But today, I added some heat for you”.
And as Iya Bisi stood there, swallowing her pride along with the spice, she knew Mama Tunde had beaten her in a way no rumor could ever undo.
