Keeper of the Pot
Some people say love is complicated. I say love is simple — just put a steaming bowl of Afang soup and fufu in front of me, and watch me fall in love. I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong--- the way to my heart is NOT through *** alright, alright, you don catch me 😅😅
Afang is not “just soup.” It’s heritage, comfort, and a reward after a long day of work. It’s the magic that happens when periwinkle (mfi) meets Afang leaves, seasoned with palm oil and as many edible obstacles as you can afford. Waterleaf is the party starter. It’s the one soup I refuse to share until I’m satisfied, sorry, not sorry.
Every time I reheat Afang the next day with that extra touch of palm oil, I’m reminded that some things in life really do get better with time.
So yes, you can have my attention, my jokes, maybe even a bite of my jollof rice… but my Afang? You’ll wait until I’ve had my fill.
Because with Afang, love is measured not in grand gestures, but in scoops of soup that roll smoothly down the throat.
The Afang Oath
Raise your fufu high and repeat:
"I will respect the pot, honour the cook and never let a drop of Afang go to waste"
Would you share your Afang soup, or are you stingy with it like me?

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