Each time that I visit the village, it has always been a tug of war between my parents and I on the choice of food for the family.
My father loves beans and every other derivative of it. Apapa is his best food. Apapa is a snack made from beans. I hate the food as much as my father loved it.
I had arrived home earlier in the afternoon. According to the unwritten timetable for her cooking, my mum told me that she would be cooking apapa that night.
"You people and apapa have become inseparable companions in this house. I wonder why you like that tasteless food that much. The long process involved in preparing it makes it more annoying."
"You have come again," my mum cuts in. "You already know that this is your father's favorite. Let's get it prepared, then we can talk about your food."
My mum was washing the beans in preparation for grinding. My younger sister was busy cleaning the dishes.
My dad walked in with a nylon bag in his hand. I ran to receive a hug from him while I gladly collected the bag.
"Welcome, dad." My hand went inside the bag immediately to ascertain the contents.
"Oooh no," I exclaimed.
"What's the problem?" My mother, who was the closest to me at that point, asked me.
With a strange face, I opened the bag for her to see what was inside.
"The combination of Eko and apapa is your father's favorite."
Eko is a starch food produced from corn. The culture of my people married the two food together. I took the bag to the kitchen.
A few hours later, apapa was ready to be served. The stage was left for me to prepare my favorite dish, yam and egg sauce.
"Whoever doesn't like apapa is far from eating the rich food of our ancestors," I heard my dad sing a popular local song that was sung to praise the dish a long time ago.
At first I didn't answer.
"Kunle," my dad called me. "Fetch me a bowl of water to wash my hands."
I fetched the water and took it to him immediately. He repeated the song.
"Daddy, enjoy your food. I am not eating," I responded to him while everyone busted into laughter.
My dad had a way of throwing shades with songs. The part of him that I miss whenever I am not with him.
I got back into the kitchen and continued with my cooking. A few minutes after rounding up my cooking, I received a call from Ize, informing me of her arrival. I had been trying to reach her for the previous two days to no avail. Her number was off.
"What happened that you were not reachable?"
"My phone fell from my hand and got damaged. I arrived home a few minutes ago and I decided to put my SIM card in my mum's phone in order to reach out to you," she explained.
Ize was my girlfriend. A girl that I love. We started dating after we completed our secondary school education. We attended the same school. College education has, however, separated us. She attends a university far south while I do the same far north. Our communication is through calls and chats. I always looked forward to seeing her during holidays.
"I can't wait to see you, my Queen," I whispered to her on the phone.
"Tomorrow is our evening market day. Let's explore the market and have fun."
The market is very popular in the locality. Residents of surrounding villages troops in weekly to buy and sell in the market. Majority of the market seats are stones. Each trader displays his or her goods in front of his seat. It is market of food - both raw and cooked. Eche Omo, apapa, Igorigo, Ikiza and other traditional food are always on display.
We went to the market as planned. In her usual manner, the first point of sale that she took me to was a popular apapa seller.
"Babe, you will have a taste of this today," she drew a line with her finger from my nose down my lips with her eyes locked into mine.
"I think we have settled this. I don't like apapa."
She rolled her eyes and stepped forward to order from the seller.
"Eating here or takeaway?" The woman asked.
There was a tent behind her with two wooden benches where customers who chose to eat right there sat and did so.
"We are eating it here, Ma," Ize responded to my surprise.
She got her order and we took our seat under the tent for her to eat her favorite dish. The first part he cut with the fork was taken to my mouth. I withdrew back to reject it.
"Dear, have you forgotten that you made a promise to me?"
"What promise is that?" I asked.
"A promise that whatever I like, you would like. This is the time to fulfill that promise. I want you to just take this small portion for me. Is that too much a request?"
I was in a dilemma for a moment.
"This shouldn't be too much to do for love," I told myself.
I looked straight into her eyes and opened my mouth to prove that I cherish her beyond what I can express.
She put apapa with her fork into my mouth. We agreed on three morsels. My teeth were pulling the second morsel out of the fuck when I heard someone called Ize.
"My daughter, how are you?"
I turned up and saw my father standing. I hid my face in shame. My father has just caught me eating what I refused to eat at home. He looked into the plate of food and back at me.
"My son, feel free to enjoy yourself, love conquers everything."
"My daughter," he turned to Ize. "Thank you for making him accept the best dish in the world. This is a sign that you are coming to affect his life in many positive ways."
My girlfriend was nodding with smiles.
I couldn't just narrate what brought apapa into my mouth. I accepted every word from my dad.
I was inducted into the world of apapa. Rejecting it at home wasn't tenable again. I learned to eat it and love it. That was the first compromise that I reached for love.
