The unbecoming of a buka addict

The day I began to ponder on the rumours surrounding bukas’, was the afternoon I tossed and turned on my bed in Moremi hostel, craving amala.

It was a torturous kind of crave, because I had only N1000 left, and it was midweek.

After an hour, I went to the school cab park


The cab to and fro, my amala and goat meat meal cost me exactly N1000.

I was back at school, beaming with smiles that made my newly broke status irrelevant. Nothing, I repeat, nothing mattered at that point.  A roomate teased me once, saying that they had buried jazz at the place, as well as wash and put, that there was no other reason why my reasoning went on vacation at the thought of buka amala.

What is a Buka?

A Buka is any housing where edible dreams and aspirations are met, it is a state of mind, it is an enabling environment for reckless consumptional experimentation. (C) Achalugo

So what is it with Buka food that brings the finest of us to our knees and strips us of all airs? Where igbo girls like me lose heir balance over amala, and yoruba guys swallow akpu and oha with glee. Do you like Buka food? Are you an addict as well? Nice to meet you! Only the initiates can understand.

I am on study leave and gladly so, seeing as my spirit hates routine, revolts against it even, yet I work a nine to five (often extending to six p.m)

What kept me going all the while? The Amala downstairs! They knew the combo

“I want Amala N200, gbegiri, ewedu and goatmeat”

If there was one of these out of stock, they knew it was no compromise affair.

E.g “Goat meat has finished? Don’t worry, no thank you, I don’t want shaki, I am not eating today”

It has been two weeks, I couldn’t bear any longer and sent for it.

I was disappointed.

The oil was a disaster, the goat meat? It was so uncooked I worried it would bleat through my fingers.

I remembered my last office lunch, same thing.

“We changed cook” they had apologised.

Brings me to the crux of the matter;

a. Sustaining a business
b. killing habits

Let these be a take home for us, we are all brands. How protective are we of the main ingredients that keep our businesses going, our relationships? Do we take people for granted? Serve raw meat and wait to see customers tomorrow?

On the flipside, do you have addictions you think you can’t do without? Unplug! Find the morals in my narration, while I get back to this Buka business.

I have gotten invitations to a place on the Island called Ghana high, then Iya Eba, and I intend to mark attendance.

Unbecoming? This is the spirit of a warrior, one buka gone bad shall not deter me.

The weekend is upon us,


2 thoughts on “The unbecoming of a buka addict

  1. Oh my lovely! Bukas are places dreams come true. Bt then i always have this fear ‘what if it was really jazed’ i mean i stay a whole day hungry just to eat at my special buka joint once i close from work. And then to d moral of the story,,,,, i’m yet to see a metaphorical story nicely written like this,,,, i hope to never serve you bad food.

    I am my own buka!

    Liked by 1 person

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