A Farewell to Beans, My Beloved Culinary Comrade

Dear Beans,

Beans, my dear friend and confidant! You’ve always been there for me in my hour of need, a stalwart companion on the battlefield of hunger. I hail thee.

Remember how you and Cassava Flakes would join forces to give me unimaginable strength during those trying times? You were my superhero, the one who kept me strong enough to skip two square meals a day while still maintaining my swagger.

Cooking you was an art, a ritual. As you simmered with all those wonderful ingredients, I’d eagerly harvest your rich, flavorful water just before you were ready. Mixing that precious broth with cassava flakes, I’d create the masterpiece known as “Ga-beans”—a garri and beans water concoction that kept me going even before the main course.

Oh, how I devoured it, Beans! You filled my belly and all you asked in return was a generous gulp of water to quench the desert-like thirst that followed. It was a fair trade walaitalai

But these days? Beans, honey, what have they done to you? The price of cassava flakes soared, leading to a painful separation. Our beloved “Ga-beans” became a distant memory, leaving me in the throes of hunger, searching for solace. Yet, even in this abusive union, you stood by me, a silent savior, though the taste was never quite the same.

You brought joy to my life, Beans. Even when cassava flakes abandoned us, you kept fighting. You held strong, a beacon of hope for millions who relied on you for carbs and proteins. Your resilience was indeed a testament to your character.

But now, I see you faltering, losing the grip. The forces of darkness have conspired against you, hurling bullets and Molotov cocktails in your direction. You resisted for as long as you could, but the battle has taken its toll. Now, you dine with the rich, leaving us, the masses, to fend for ourselves in the abyss of hunger.

It’s not your fault, Beans. I know you fought valiantly. My heart aches to see you suffer, Aswearugad. I loathe the fact that I couldn’t do more to protect you. Now, as you mingle with the wealthy, I am left with memories of our union.

God will judge those who dragged you into this mess. Enjoy your time with the affluent. Our paths may diverge for now but know that I will always cherish our moments together.

One day, when my pocket is fat again, I will come for you, my lovely Beans. Until then, let’s embrace this forced separation. Let’s enjoy this divorce while it lasts.

Yours truly (and perpetually hungry),

A Broke Nigerian