So, I have this neighbor, Chinedu, the kind of guy who can eat for Africa. This guy’s appetite is legendary. He’ll finish a mountain of food and still ask if there’s more

One day, Chinedu casually strolled into my house and saw me making jollof rice. I offered him a plate, because, you know, neighborly love. Big mistake.

From that day on, Chinedu would mysteriously show up at my door every single time I was cooking. It didn’t matter what I was making—rice, stew, beans, even Indomie, he was there.

Sometimes, I didn’t even know how he timed it so perfectly! I could be boiling water, and this guy would appear, sniffing the air like a hunting dog.

At first, I didn’t mind. I mean, sharing food is good African culture, right? But soon, with the high cost of foodstuffs in Nigeria and gas, it became a problem. I couldn’t cook in peace anymore.

One evening, I decided to make something low-key—simple garri to drink. I was mid-way through, thinking, at least Chinedu won’t show up for this, when I heard a knock on the door. Guess who? Chinedu, with his trademark smile.

“Omo, you dey cook? I just dey pass, so I say make I greet you.”

I was like, “Cook ke, na just garri I wan drink with groundnut o.”

“This guy…Garri nah food now. You know how much garri dey for market? Even groundnut, Ah! You’re eating like a big man in this economy!”

Next thing, he grabbed a spoon and joined me, drinking my garri like it was champagne. I was speechless.”

He demolished the food like he was in a competition. Afterward, he belched loudly and said, “Your hand strong, bro. This garri na confirm!”He drank my water, wiped his mouth and left.

That’s when I knew—this wasn’t normal behavior. Something had to be done.

The next weekend, I got creative. I decided to set a trap. I reached out to my ex, Blessing, the one who caught me cheating with her neighbor. She’s a chef, and I knew if anyone wanted to put poison in my food, it was her. So, I sent her a message.

“Hey Benita, I’m feeling really sick and broke. Can you help me with some food? I haven’t eaten all day. Luv you.”

I knew calling her the wrong name would ignite the fire of vengeance in her soul. As expected, she responded immediately, asking for time I’ll be available so she could send the food via dispatch. No need to even send money; she just wanted me to rest. I was laughing the whole time.

A dispatch arrived a few minutes later with her special peppersoup and yam. The trap was set.

As expected, Chinedu materialized. “Bro! I dey perceive something nice o! Wetin you cook today?”

I grinned. “Ah, you’re just in time. I made pepper soup.”

His face brightened. “Pepper soup? Say no more!”

I served him everything, sat back, and watched.

“Haba chief, you no go chop?” he asked while washing his hands.

“I don chop already. Na your own be that.” I replied

“Omo, my guy, you be God sent for this compound, I swear down. My babe no cook reach you. Always on point. Make I finish all the meat?”

“Finish am.”

He attacked the food like it was his last supper.

The first handful went in, and his expression changed. He paused, looked at the soup, and then looked at me.

“Omo, this peppersoup get as e be o…”

I feigned innocence. “What do you mean? That’s my special recipe. Just eat.”

Reluctantly, he took another swallow. You could see the battle going on in his head, but his Longerthroat wouldn’t let him back down. He kept eating, slower with each swallow. Finally, halfway through the plate, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bro, abeg, water.”

I handed him a bottle of water, trying not to laugh. He gulped it down and sighed. “This soup na war. You no get small rice or something make I step am down?”

“Rice na 100k plus. Na only if person deh hospital I deh cook rice, my guy. So, today, it’s pepper soup and yam or nothing.”