Amaka My Wife

My wife and I didn’t date much, we only visited each other on a few occasions before we wedded. I discovered my wife didn’t know how to cook.. her food was the type that could make anyone stay far away from home. I tried to manage it but damn, it wasn’t manageable. I made up my mind to enroll her in a catering school around us..

It was one week after our wedding, we couldn’t afford to pay a cook yet, we needed to plan properly. My phone rang and I walked slowly to go pick it up.

“Hey big bro. How’s your new wife? Well, the whole family has planned to come have lunch at your place tomorrow, before they all return back to their respective places. So tell your wife to make us something real good,” the sonorous voice of my younger sister Amaka came from the other end of the phone.

I nearly peed on myself, “when you say the whole family, who and who are coming?” I managed to ask her, beads of sweat dropping from my body even though the Ac was on.

“Hey bro, everyone, uncles, cousins, aunties, they will come for lunch ,” my sister confirmed my fears.

How do I tell them that my wife doesn’t know how to cook? Ha, of course I wouldn’t like to embarrass my wife. What will she cook now? I myself can't cook but if I boil water eeeh… choi..

My wife’s soup is nothing to talk about, her soup, water will be one side, meat will be another side.. Her stew is the definition of “okokobioko.”

This one week, my stomach has seen “shege” but I was hoping to register her in the catering school before “banza” will enter.

I took out my phone to call the caterers. I had their contacts but they all said they were booked as it’s the weekend. At this point, I understood the difference between “finished” and “finished.“

My wife came to the living room, she saw me sweating and asked what was wrong with me. I looked at her face, I loved her, and I wanted to save her this lifetime of embarrassment but I didn’t know what to do. I just informed her of my sister’s call, and she, like me, started sweating profusely, we both knew she would be tense.

“But baby what can I cook for them?” My wife asked with a shaky voice.

Fast forward to the next day, my wife and I woke up with a missed feeling. She couldn’t sleep the whole night. She kept turning around. I gave her some money to buy something to make soup. She reluctantly collected the money.

After a few long hours..she finally came back. I asked her what she wanted to cook. She said she would make vegetable soup. I left her in the kitchen and went back to the room. The lunch was fixed for noon. I checked the time it was already 11 am and my wife has been in the kitchen since 9 am. I decided to go check up on her.

“Hey baby, is the food not ready ?” I opened the vegetable soup and as usual, the soup wasn’t souping at all. The vegetable was one corner while oil faced another side like a husband and wife that just fought.

My sister had already said that they were at the door, so I quickly went to usher them to the dining table after a few pleasantries.

“Hey, baby. Just scoop the whole soup into a bowl and hand it over to me while you follow me with the eba. Make sure you put in the whole soup .” I instructed my wife.

I carried the whole soup in the bowl while my wife followed behind me with the eba.

I got to the dining table and intentionally hit my leg on the table, I fell and poured the soup on the floor.

Everyone rushed to me, trying to help me get to my feet with a sounding “sorry, sorry. Hope you are not injured”

I cried bitterly, I refused to be consoled “did you injure yourself?” One of my aunts asked me how I was feeling, concerned.

“If I injure myself, it is not the problem. The problem is the soup I poured away. How will you people eat now?” I cried again. “Honey please go and get another soup,” I said to my wife.

“Baby there’s no more soup, remember you told me to scoop the whole soup,”

I started crying again and wailing, my family started consoling me. They even said I shouldn’t worry about the soup, they offered to take me to the hospital but I declined. I went into the fridge to get a bottle of the chin for them, they ate happily as we watched a movie while my wife trashed the soup.

After they left, I laughed out loud that my wife thought I had gone kolo. I told her what I did, I told her how I used my antics to save her the embarrassment and she joined me to laugh.

Today I’m eating a very delicious vegetable soup from my wife with a smile on my face. She has learned so well and her cooking now is heavenly.