The Girl Who Wouldn't Cook
Favour Ejiro was the kind of girl that turned heads not just because of her soft caramel skin and smooth, deliberate walk, but because of the invisible air of confidence that always trailed behind her like a scent. She was an only child, and everyone in her quiet neighborhood in Warri knew that meant one thing: she was pampered.
"Mama, must we do this every time I'm home?" Favour rolled her eyes as she leaned against the kitchen doorframe.
Mama Ejiro stirred the steaming pot of egusi soup with exaggerated patience. "Favour, come inside. Watch me, at least you go soon marry oh."
"I don't need to stand here for that,YouTube is a thing now, remember?"
Mama dropped the wooden spoon with a clatter. "Ehn? So YouTube will teach you how to tell when egusi don dey burn?"
Favour smirked and tapped her phone. "There's an app for that."
Mama Ejiro shook her head and muttered under her breath, "If only your phone can boil yam."
But Favour wasn't listening anymore, her fingers were already dancing across her iPad screen, watching a makeup tutorial. The scent of crayfish and ogiri filled the air, ignored by the girl who believed convenience was more important than culture.
That day, Mama Ejiro didn't argue anymore. But the words stayed with her: "You go soon marry."