A woman came into the kitchen in the middle of the night and found her husband eating a bowl of cerelac. So, she said, ‘You this man! You will not allow the baby to suck what you say you paid bride price on. Now you are here again finishing junior’s cerelac. What is wrong with you? Should I feed them ji-akpu and start expressing for you?’

And the man said, ‘God, why did you give me a wife with such an evil mouth? So because I colonize what is legitimately mine in private, you have to come out in public to say it? Okay, I will say my own. This cerelac I am eating is sweeter than anything you have ever given me.’

And the woman raised two hands to her head, ‘Eh! I do not blame you, you that has to be guided like the blind to the door? How can anything be sweet to someone who uses such a short ladle to stir the pot? Don’t you know that the bottom-pot is always the sweetest? It is you who does not have the right spoon.’

And the man dropped his cerelac and stood up, ‘What? You this woman! How dare you? I will return the bride price I paid on your head. Other women can dance makossa, galala, azonto, skelewu, kukere but you? In fact, you are like an Indian movie; once you have watched one you have watched all. I tell you, this bowl of cerelac is more adventurous than you.’

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