Hello everyone
Mama Ngozi was hosting a grand yam festival, her pride a rare wheel of mature cheese, aged to perfection in her cool mud-brick store. Its sharp, creamy aroma, with a bold kic The village buzzed with excitement, eager for its rich taste alongside pounded yam and palm wine. Chidi, the young cook in charge of the feast’s food, felt his heart race, tasked with making sure every dish, especially that cheese, wowed the crowd.
Chidi sliced into the cheese under Mama Ngozi’s Sharp gaze. iHe arranged it on clay plates with roasted yam and ogbono soup, the villagers cheering as the scent hit them. Tempted, Chidi snuck a big piece for himself, thinking it’d go unnoticed. The taste was pure joy, bold, tangy, like jollof spice lingering on his tongue, making him want more.
Mama Ngozi caught him, her eyes narrowing, but she only chuckled softly. “Small-small, Chidi,” she said, handing him a tiny slice to take home. “Good cheese, like life, dey sweet pass when you no rush am.” Chidi nodded, savoring his small piece.
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