So far this my blog has missed out on a very crucial aspect of Nigerian pride and culture: the food. Whenever I meet new people they usually ask me the following three questions: “So what are you doing in Nigeria?” “How are you enjoying your time here?” and, most importantly (!) “How do you like the food?” I like the food. Most of it at least. And people are generally very content to hear that. It is a big deal if you as Oyinbo like the traditional Nigerian food. I don’t quite know why, but it is.

Nigerian food is interesting. It mainly consists of onions and peppers. I don’t think I have had any food here that did not contain onions and peppers as its basis. Interestingly enough, often the food doesn’t even taste like much, but it’s very hot. As long as it contains loads of pepper it is considered a good dish. Well, I might be oversimplifying here, but in a way it is true.

Nigerian food is dangerous. Whoever has had their hands (or even worse: eyes) burning after cutting mean little peppers or their skin itch after skinning yams knows what I am talking about. It’s not fun. You have to learn all the little but pivotal rules of what to cut how and what to avoid (and sometimes you learn the hard way...).

Nigerian food does not exactly look nice. Let’s be honest, most of it really does not. It might taste great, but when it comes to the look of it you wouldn’t necessarily call it “pretty”. Some soups or stews look rather slimy and sticky, some look like liquid mud with leaves in it, some just have indistinguishable components that are impossible to disentangle by looking at it. Most of the rather unappealing looking things really do taste nice, but food here is definitely not made with the aim of looking good. Maybe this focus on food aesthetics is a very European thing; I have gotten used to not judging a dish by its appearance anymore.

I have had interesting food experiences. From finding the head and tail of the fish in the fish stew over learning how to eat chicken the African way to discovering the beauty of (pretty tasteless) pounded yam and its function as a sponge for the soup served with it. (For all Non-Africans reading this: “soup” is not necessarily what you would imagine, it is often rather solid and eaten not with a spoon but with some sort of mashed potato side dish that you use as a cutlery replacement).

Eating with my hands has become normal by now; but my first Suya experience remains unforgotten: I was served really nice Chicken Suya (if you ever end up being in Abuja, try out Yahuza VIP Suya Spot, really good stuff), and while I unfold the aluminium foil in which my food is wrapped I ask my roommates: “So where’s the fork?” Not knowing that you eat your Suya (like many other dishes) with your hands (well, technically with one hand, so you still have one ‘clean’ hand). It earned me a round of laughter.

I know that certain things I will definitely miss once I go back to Germany, I love plantain, I like the fish here very much, I like the Suya, Moi-Moi, Egusi soup ... One thing I won’t really miss is the meat. Generally I don’t like meat anyways, but I try it. Here, it has never really been a good experience (maybe also because I have seen them slaughter the goats at the market). There are a few things I miss that are either really hard to get or just ridiculously expensive, e.g. dairy products, even though I sometimes have the rather strange (but okay) yoghurt (see also: for fun, for health, for long life). Milk is generally most readily available as milk powder, which I have come to detest by now, and coffee is generally only very bad instant Nescafe instant coffee; even if you order coffee in a cafe (which are really very rare here), the coffee is bad. I m having a hard time not being able to indulge in my little coffee addiction. My mum already announced that she will make very traditional German food once I come back. All I want is good coffee and wholemeal bread.