Honestly I don’t see why we are fighting over whose soup rocks! I did a search on #SoupWars and found a lot of international cuisine that would make you grateful for ordinary okra soup without meat. I even saw one that looked like a mixture of custard, carrot and some green sprinkles with a side of sliced bread. For heaven’s sake, who uses soup to eat bread?!!! Nigerian soups rock! Anytime, anywhere.
I remember growing up, it was not difficult to teach children to stop stealing meat. Somehow by the grace of God, Mummy and Daddy aged and salt became expensive (please don’t ever tell mummy I told you). Stealing meat from salt-free soups? Abeg most of us dropped the habit of stealing meat without much coercion. I daresay you will rarely find soup thieves among Yoruba children. There is no cogent reason inside our pot of soup to join such risky business in my opinion. I thought I was free indeed.
So, I received my NYSC call-up letter and arrived at Umunya Camp in Anambra state. I left camp and arrived Awka safe and sound. My host and hostess gave me a room and I was there undressing, when that aroma filtered in. Kai, I wanted to move to the dining room but before long, the missus came knocking on my door. Room service was a dish of akpu and a generous serving of some soup I had never seen.
I thanked my hostess, locked the door behind her and danced shoki for like 5 minutes nonstop. I took my first handful of the akpu properly wrapped in this soup. This soup that eventually tasted like eternal life. In that instant, I realised that the thieving spirit inside me was back and this time, it was back for good.
Unfortunately for me, I am a responsible Nigerian man so I did not have the kind of explanation for why I would be caught shifting the pot cover in the kitchen. I respected myself throughout my stay there, even though I spent a lot of nights tossing and turning. Addiction and stealing are brothers after all!
One day, after I had endured this torment for so long, I decided to eat at the dining table by all means. The food was served like the first time and I finished it without remorse or repentance, I quickly asked my hostess for the name of the soup. She said something like “Oga” soup (later learnt it was Oha). Till now, I have not recovered from that experience. After service year I stayed back for another 3 months. I remember telling my younger sister that I was making petitions to God to find me a young maiden who can keep me in constant supply of this soup. Yes, it have reach like that!
From all I have heard of Afang soup, it has no future for me. When I am ready to recover from this thieving spirit, I will probably go and taste Afang! Before they finally lock me up on top tiff matter!
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