CHAPTER 1

Babajide's House
Bisi followed the directions given to her by her uncle Jimi. After losing her mother to a breif illness the previous week, She had to move in with Babajide who was their only known family friend. Uncle Jimi was too poor to take care of himself, talk less of someone else. It was a long journey, and she had been walking for almost 4 hours until she finally reach Aramoko. She lengthened her strides as she approached Babajide's house. Babajide owned a small local restaurant in his compound just beside his house which was run by his wife and their daughter.

Finally she arrived Babajide's compound and was greeted by the aroma of a strong scenting soup. The aroma was coming from an inner room which she believed to be the kitchen, while set chairs and tables for customers stood between her and kitchen. Beside the restaurant was Babajide's hut, one of the biggest huts she had seen since she arrived Aramoko.

Babajide was one of the wealthiest men in Aramoko village; well known throughout the hamlet for his legendary cooking. While still taking a visual cue of the terrain, a bland, elderly woman came out for from the inner room. She was lightskinned, but it seemed like age, combined with years of cooking and spending too much time around flaming firewood had done a number on her skin. On sighting Bisi, she halted abruptly, slowly dropped the half filled bucket of water she held in her hand, her gaze still fixed on the 15 year old dark skinned stranger.

"Well done madam" Bisi greeted.

"Ehen, who you dey find" Iyafede responded.

"Abeg I dey find Babajide" she replied nervously.

Iyafede paused, Bisi saw the woman visually scan her, obviously suspicious. Just then, a dark fat man exited the hut beside the kitchen. He had on a worn out white singlet and oversized khaki shorts. Clogged strands of grey hair covered his fat chin. He slowly walked towards Bisi while occasionally glancing at iyafede, who now stood; arms akimbo.

"Ah! Bisi!" Babajide exclaimed as he came close to her and placed his both arms on his shoulder as if he had seen a ghost.
"Dupẹ lọwọ awọn ọlọrun fun mu ọ wa lailewu."
He said as he lifted his gaze to the sky with his both arms up.
"I hear say your mama been dey sick. I plan to find way come see her but no way. Before I know, den say she don die." He said in a concerned voice.

"But no worry my daughter" he continued. "I go make sure say you dey comfortable here as my hand reach because na from your mama wey I learn how to cook when I been dey do houseboy for una house that time wey you small." He said as he gestured.

"So like say she no teach me, I for no get this restaurant by now. I know say she for don teach you how to cook to. As me I don dey old, I go like make you dey help us for kitchen. Atink you go fit?" He asked Bisi who had been paying attention.

"I go happy well well Baba" she said, smiling.
Babajide returned a bigger smile which followed by a giggle as he nodded his head affirmatively, obviously elated about his new employee.

"Fede!" He called out as turned away from Bisi.
"Feeedeeee!" He called again.
"Baba!" Fede answered just as she trotted out of the big hut. She slowed down when she saw Bisi. Now curious to know what was going on, she went towards Babajide.

"Yes Baba" she said as she stared at him inquiringly.

"This is Bisi." He told Fede pointing to Bisi.

"Her mama na my friend but she don die, so she go dey stay with us for now. And she go dey help una for kitchen. Help me carry her go that hit wey Sola been dey sleep before. Commot all those iron wey dey there put for back of kitchen. Arrange the place well make she dey comfortable iya?"

He said to Fede whose curiousity was now exasperated.

"Yes Baba." she responded.

She gestured to Bisi to follow her as she made for a hut in the far end of the compound. Bisi could see the resemblance between Fede and her mother. Fede on the other hand was lightskinned, fresh and chubby. She barely said a word to Bisi until they got to the hut.


"Na him be this." she said as she went in, took out some pieces of iron which were used for firewood, dropped them on the floor and told Bisi " Carry this two iron go drop for back of kitchen. There, you go see broom, bring am clean this place sweep." She said as she walked off, seemingly, not trying to make a new friend.

By the time Bisi was done carrying out the instructions, it was evening. She opened her small bag, took out the few clothes she had and folded them. A bitter sweet fragrance filled the air as she took out Ojekole; a crooked black cooking spoon which for unknown reasons to Bisi was one of her mother's most prized possession and hence was now precious to Bisi. Tears rolled off the corners of her eyes as the tragic thoughts of her mother's sickness and death engulfed her. And when it no longer flowed, she made herself comfortable on the cold floor, and slept off.

Chapter 2
Free mode

Working at Babajide's kitchen was not what not at all what Bisi had expected. All the workload was automatically transferred to her. She swept the compound, washed the kitchen floors, cutlery and furniture. She also ran the errands for Babajide's wife and daughters, who no longer cared to cook, but when Bisi had prepared all the food, they simply wore their revealing clothes, came out to serve the wealthy customers. Iyafede made sure her daughters took the credit for the cooking while Bisi stayed hidden in the kitchen.

Babajide after having passed his recipe to to his wife and daughters no longer had any business with the kitchen. Now too old to do too much, he spent most of his time under the tangerine tree behind the hut, either listening to his radio, or chatting with his customer friends with whom he occasionally drank palmwine. Months became years, and Babajide passed away. Leaving Bisi alone with Iyafede and her daughters.

Bisi was now deshiveled, her clothes had almost turned to rags as she had been practically turned to a housegirl. Knowing fully well that Iyafede and her daughters were going to make life more uncomfortable for her since Babajide's passing, Bisi knew she had to act fast. Luckily, she had been smart enough to save a few pennies over the years, and when she felt the time was right, she decided to move. After she rented a hut about a stone throw from Babajide's compound, she considered starting her own restaurant. She managed to get a pot and a few utensils from Babajide's kitchen before she left. She paid for little foodstuffs and a table and then she went to work.


Now she was at liberty to do as she wished, she decided to use her Ojekole which Iyafede had strongly reprimanded her for trying to use it in cooking at Babajide's kitchen. A bitter sweet whim blew by her nose as she took out the spoon and began cooking soup. When she was done, she packaged the food as well as she could, put on the few good clothes she had and tried to look as presentable as possible. She brought out the food alongside the plates and cutlery, and placed them on the wooden table in front of her hut and sat down. She was greeted with unfriendly stares by passersby who seemed to be disgusted by her while some simply laughed at her and her low budget setup. The guts to think anyone would want to eat from a filthy little girl, when Babajide's legendary kitchen was only a few steps away. But Bisi, determined as ever, eagerly awaited her first customer. Even if she had only one customer today, that could be seen as progress, she thought to herself as she waited. Morning turned to afternoon and nobody came. She began to have second thoughts and felt very out of place. She sat looking like a clown as the sun came out in it's brightest while she sat in the open, food turning cold and sweat from the sun's heat trickling down her face. She knew how much she had spent for the setup and the food and what it meant to her. She had so much faith in her cooking that she never really did consider what would happen if her venture never paid off. She barely had any money left and wondered what she would do when she was totally broke. Going back to Jide's kitchen would be like a life sentence and she dreaded that option. Deep down she still believed that someone would show up and actually pay to eat her food, and she would at least have something to be happy about. But with Babajide's legendary kitchen just around the corner, it seemed highly unlikely. Afternoon became evening which eventually became night, and still nobody came. Sadness in it's most powerful variant beclouded her mind as she silently rested on her head and sobbed her eyes out. Her mind raced breathlessly as it began to recall her mother's sickness and death and all the setbacks she had faced thereafter. An endless stream of tears flowed as she sobbed hopelessly for almost an hour. When she managed to regain herself, she lousily started a fire as she warmed the soup, and when it was done, she took her things inside, made herself comfortable on the cold floor, and slept off.

The next morning, motivated to try again, she started a fire and warmed the food after which she brought it out in the open and again, began to wait for a customer. She had eaten part of the food as she had nothing else to eat. Morning became afternoon and nobody came. As she sat alone on her table, staring at her cooler, sadness and despair began to seep in. From her stall, she could see customers troop in and out of Babajide's kitchen, that was the hotspot for food where even outsiders and travellers would always stop to refresh themselves. How did she ever think she could suddenly come out of nowhere and people would suddenly abandon the food hub of the village and come to her place with only one small pot of soup and barely enough plates. As tears slowly rolled down her eyes with full realization of her current delimma, she gave out most of the food left to some of the small children who ran around the place all day, kept little for herself, packed up, and went to bed.

The next day, she sat up thinking of what she could have done wrong. Maybe she had too look more presentable, maybe she had to package her food and her set up better; oh and the sun was becoming a menace, so she probably had to get a shade for her and her 'unborn' customers she thought, and this she did. With the last money she had, she set out to the market to buy foodstuffs and also included some perfumes, tablecloths and a few decorative cutlery. She also managed to charter a large piece of light cloth which she thought would suffice for a nice shade when supported by a few sticks. She came home, prepared her soup and Amala which she made sure to package properly, wore her best clothes and went to work. Her new setup surely turned some necks as she could see that more people now noticed her, and so, with a reassuring sense of confidence and optimism she waited. The sun also seemed to have gained more confidence as midday crept in and she hadn't gotten a customer yet. Thankfully, the shade did it's job, but she decided to step up and start inviting passersby to come and try her food. Bisi tried her best for a shy young teenager, but it led to no avail. Evening slowly approached, and at this point she was so desperate, she almost began begging people to come and taste her food for free, but suddenly, it began to rain. She succeeded in taking her food to safety, but on discovering that all her fire wood had been soaked, and that the heavy rain most probably marked the end of another unsuccessful day with no way to warm her food for the next day, she just stood like a statue under the rain, her badly constructed shade now in shambles on the wet ground, her best clothes now soaked as painful droplets of heavy rain dropped on her, also helping to hide the tears that flowed from her eyes, down her emotionless face as she stared at the firewood.

Now she had no choice than to go back to the kitchen and start afresh as all she had left were the few remaining foodstuffs she bought earlier and not a single penny left.
Rage, sadness and defeat engulfed the girl as she went in, laid down, and slept.

CHAPTER 3

New Plug

Opeyemi and Babajide were always good friends till Jide's passing. He became one of the wealthiest men in the village since he monopolized the palm wine market by laying claim to all the palm trees in the area, thanks to the support of the king who was also his biggest customer. His palm wine ring encapsuled the entire village and even the outskirts as he was known to have the best palm wine which was also delivered to other villages.

Opeyemi and his wife Alakija were no strangers to the foodhub. They had been regular attendees for over 33 years when Babajide opened shop. His wife could always cook at home, but since Jide's passing, Yemi insisted that they ditched homemade food for a while and ate from Jide's kitchen for some time as a sign of loyalty to his old friend.

Alakija, a proud woman and overpossesive of her wealthy husband initially dreaded the idea, but Opeyemi simply by refusing to give her money for foodstuffs, while insisting they both went to eat from the kitchen eventually had his way.

Unfortunately, Opeyemi was not the only person with the idea of patronising his old friends business as a way of paying tribute, many other bigwigs of Aramoko shared the same idea which led to crowding at Jide's restaurant and hence, brought good money to Iyafede and her daughters. They had upgraded the restaurant, hired new chefs, bought new pots and cutlery and added more luxurious furnishing. And of course she didn't forget to buy new clothes for her daughters to bait big fishes. Opeyemi was the prime target of Fede and her sisters Bisola and Eniola. Not only due to his wealth, but also due to his closeness to the king. They often fought over who was to serve him food, and thanks to their mothers intervention, Fede was always chosen for the task.

One afternoon, while Opeyemi was returning from one of his wine fermentation bases on the village outskirts, he felt hungry and decided to divert to the food hub. But by this time as usual, the place was quite crowded and having noticed the gimmicks of Iyafede and her daughters, he felt disuaded and decided it was time to discontinue his short lived patronages. He had paid his dues and it was time to return to his wife's cooking which was not very different from Jide's cuisine; he thought as he headed back home.

A stone throw from from Jide's kitchen, Yemi perceived a familiar aroma that somehow reminded him of his mother's cooking. He saw a young girl of about 15 mixing something in a small pot in front of a hut. There was an empty table which stood beside a bunch of sticks joined together by a large piece of cloth which seemed to have served as a shade. He remembered seeing her about  2 days before, but barely paid any mind to whatever she was selling as he was trying to escape the threatening rain.

With the last foodstuffs she had left from that rainy day, Bisi was cooking lunch for herself. Due to her emotional trauma, she had not been interested to eat for almost 2 days and even considered starving to death before she finally gave in. Opeyemi walked up to the table and took the chair in front of it and sat down. This startled Bisi as she turned around, mouth and eyes wide open as she stared at the stranger who stared by at her while making himself comfortable on the chair.
"I wan eat." He said, staring innocently at Bisi who just stood still like she had seen a ghost.

When she was finally able to calm her thoughts she said "no vex o Oga but I been no dey do restaurant again o. This one wey I dey cook na just for me."

Without saying anything, Opeyemi reached into his pockets, took out some money and dropped on the table, then repeated himself:
"I wan eat."

Bisi stared in disbelief at what was happening, and still not able to wrap her head around why this stranger was so insistent on paying so much to eat her wretched soup. But seeing the large sum of money and instantly knowing this stranger was somewhat wealthy, she immediately went to work.

The soup was already hot and she quickly prepared the Amala. She hurriedly wiped the table with a piece of cloth and served her first customer.

Opeyemi peered at the soup. It looked no different from that of Jide's and Alakija's his wife. But there was something about this soup. The soup gave up a delicious bitter sweet aroma which he had never encountered since his childhood.

He took the Amala, dipped it gently into the hot soup as Bisi watched from afar, her heart thumping hard.
She watched as Yemi gulped down his first handful and expected the worst. Yemi sat back licking his lips and staring into the open. it seemed like he was thinking about the food. He looked at Bisi who was on the verge of apologizing for cooking such a disappointing food. But before she could utter a word, he sat back up and began to chow down. The food tasted just as deliciously as it smelled. He couldn't seem to get enough of this unexplainable bitter sweet taste of the soup. He ate with gusto until the both plates were empty.

When he caught his breath, he lifted his gaze to the remaining mole of Amala which Bisi remained in a bowl as she rushed to bring him water.
"Bring that remaining one for me" he said as he took the water from Bisi.

"The soup remain?" He asked as Bisi went for the bowl of Amala.

"E remain very small, e no go go anywhere." Bisi responded as she dropped the Amala on the table.

"Oya bring the pot." Yemi said as he started moulding the next handful of Amala in his palm.

Still in shock, Bisi went for the almost empty pot of soup which he snatched from her hand and began his second round.

Opeyemi being very well known in the area began to cause a stir as passersby who knew him began to stop and stare at what was happening. Eniola who was returning from the market saw the people staring and caught a glimpse of what was happening, Opeyemi, one of their biggest customers was now eating from the pot of their dirty former housegirl. She couldn't wrap her head around why this would happen as she joined the villagers to stare in disbelief, but Opeyemi didn't care. He had a sharp eye for good things, and he had found one.

When he was done eating, he drank some of the water, and used to rest to wash his hand while he asked Bisi:

"Wetin you put for this food?".

Bisi replied:
"Nothing o, na just leaves and spices wey I buy from market." she said flattered, seeing the crowd that was staring and that Yemi really enjoyed the food.
"Na lie." Yemi replied as Bisi smiled and bowed her dead shyly.
"I dey tell you true Oga" she said.
"Okay." Yemi started.
"Take this money go buy the foodstuffs, tomorrow you go cook the soup for my front from beginning to end." He said, standing up and handing the money to Bisi.

"if you cook am finish, the food still sweet like this one, na only your food I go dey chop everyday."

With tears in her eyes, Bisi thanked the stranger multiple times as he walked off. She finally had her first customer who happened to be this very influential man who had now brought so much attention to her business and also promised to return.

After Yemi left, some of the villagers, even the ones who used to snub her, began to inquire what transpired, some even tried to get a taste of the soup but we're disappointed to see it had finished.
After the crowd had dispersed she gathered all her equipment and washed them.

Now she could smile wider than she had in eons. Finally, someone had recognized her cooking and she was determined to prove herself again when he came back the next day. She arranged all her stuff, laid down and slept off, happier than ever.

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