19/04/2025
✅ Mama Sade and the Stubborn Blender (Easter Wahala Edition)
It was Easter Friday. Mama Sade had opened mouth and promised the whole street special food—fried rice, peppered turkey, puff puff, and that her "secret stew" that made bachelors propose after two spoons.
By 8AM, she tied her wrapper tight, wore her “Let God Be Praised” apron, and shouted,
“Today, even the devil will eat rice in this compound!”
She threw tomatoes, pepper, onions, and one tired-looking tatashe into her ancient blender—the one older than her last born. She pressed the switch.
GRRRR—skrrrr—skrr—cough—silence.
“Haa? What’s this one doing? Blender! Today of all days?”
She hit it twice like a stubborn goat. The blender woke up reluctantly, whined like a mosquito, then choked again. Mama Sade opened it—only the onions blended. The rest were just chilling like they paid rent.
She screamed, “Holy Ghost fire! Is it not food I’m blending?”
Determined, she unplugged and replugged. The blender sparked like NEPA wires. A small explosion sent pepper mist into her eyes. She ran around her kitchen, eyes red, screaming,
“Jesu! I’m blind! This blender wants to baptize me with pepper!”
Her neighbor, Iya Bola, rushed in and saw Mama Sade fanning her face with a pot cover. “Ah-ah, what happened?”
Mama Sade cried, “My blender has turned into an agent of darkness!”
The pepper soup never came. The rice became jollof by force. And the puff puff? E dey swell but e no gree fry.
By evening, when her neighbors came with plates, she opened the door with dark shades and a straight face.
“Sorry oh, Easter don postpone till next week.”.
