07/07/2025
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Olise and the Secret Peppersoup Mission
It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and Olise had just survived a long, spirit-filled service, complete with praise, worship, and an intense sermon on “The Spirit of Self-Control.” He had nodded obediently throughout, even muttering a few “Amen!” and “Preach, pastor!” with his eyes closed.
But deep in his heart, one thing tugged at him like a stubborn child—peppersoup. Hot, spicy, steaming goat meat peppersoup. The kind served at that “innocent-looking” joint near 2nd bus stop, where the breeze blows through raffia shades and men laugh like they don't have responsibilities.
Olise tried to fight it. He even quoted a verse to himself: “Man shall not live by peppersoup alone…” But the craving didn’t care.
The final push came during lunch. Ngozi served vegetable soup—again. No fish. Just ponmo and dry scent leaf. As Olise stared at the bowl, Tochi asked loudly, “Daddy, why are you looking at the soup like you want to cry?”
“Eat your food, Tochi,” Ngozi snapped.
After the meal, Olise pretended to feel drowsy. He scratched his head, stood up, and said with fake fatigue, “I think I’ll just go and lie down small. This weather is not friendly.”
Ngozi narrowed her eyes. “Olise. You better not go and sneak out to drink beer o!”
He smiled, trying not to look guilty. “Ha! Ah ah, me? Beer? On a Sunday?”
She hissed. “Good. Because we need to go over the PTA meeting for Dubem’s school tonight.”
Olise nodded and walked to the bedroom. But the moment she turned to plug in her phone, he slipped into his jeans, tiptoed to the back door, and vanished like Jonah into the belly of the whale.
At the peppersoup joint, he was in heaven.
One cold bottle of Gulder, condensation dripping. One steaming bowl of goat meat peppersoup with correct utazi leaf and yaji. Olise closed his eyes after the first sip of broth and whispered, “Father, thank You.”
He was halfway through when he heard the unmistakable sound of slippers—someone stomping angrily across wet sand.
He turned. It was Ngozi. Hair tied, eyes flaming.
She didn’t say a word. Just folded her arms and stared at him. The other men at the joint scattered like pigeons.
Olise stood up, wiping his mouth. “Honey, I can explain…”
“You left vegetable soup and school fees to come and drink pepper and sin?” she asked.
“I was evangelizing!” he blurted. “I came to minister to lost men. See, I haven’t even finished the—”
“Shut up and carry that peppersoup. We’ll go and finish it together at home.”
“Yes, ma.”
He carried it with both hands like communion. On the way home, Tochi texted from inside the house:
Mummy caught Daddy at the bar. I am finished with this family.
