David Akande @peludaves

I was feeling a bit tired of the constant digital overload that had become a standard part of my life – online activities, internet surfing, gaming, and movies. It all began to feel suffocating, and I yearned for a break from the digital world.

It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't read a physical novel in a long time. As I rummaged through my bag, I remembered picking up my favorite novel on the way back to school, and I became determined to immerse myself in its pages. I spent nearly two hours searching, determined to find it and have a change of pace.

Eventually, just when I was about to give up, I spotted it at the bottom of my bag, buried amidst a heap of notes and quotes. I struggled to yank it out, and when I finally managed to retrieve it, I eagerly opened the book – only to find the pages in disarray. It was a complete mess.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I tried to straighten out the book, feeling a mix of irritation and disappointment. All I wanted was a peaceful retreat into the pages of a beloved novel, but it seemed that fate had other plans for me. As I started to tidy up the book, I couldn't help but wonder if this was a sign that I should persist in my quest for a much-needed break from the digital world, or whether this was just a test of my determination.

But what more could be said whereas I found my lovely novel?
After I packed up the heap into the box, I jumped on my soft foam and soaked myself in the sweetness of this romantic art work- Cyprus Love affair.

I've always been fascinated by the idea of baking. So, when I stumbled upon the recipe for chin chin, a popular West African snack, I knew I had to give it a try. The thought of creating those crispy, bite-sized delights filled me with a sense of excitement and determination.

Admittedly, it was quite a tussle getting the dough just right. I found myself vigorously beating the flour, working to mold it into the perfect texture. I added the other ingredients - a dash of nutmeg, a hint of sugar, all carefully measured to bring out that sought-after flavor.

Finally, it was time to fry. The simmering heat of the oil filled the kitchen, and I gingerly lowered the first batch of chin chin into the sizzling pot. The delightful aroma that began to waft through the air made my heart race with anticipation. I couldn't wait to see and, more importantly, taste the results of my culinary experiment.

As each piece of chin chin emerged golden and glistening from the oil, my excitement reached its peak. However, as I took the first bite of the freshly fried chin chin, to my surprise, it was softer than expected – almost doughnut-like in texture. It certainly wasn't what I had imagined, and for a moment, I worried that my effort had fallen short.

But then something magical happened. My worries vanished as the chin chin met my taste buds. The flavor was unmistakably delicious - a perfect blend of sweetness and warmth. I couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected result. Yes, the texture was different, but the taste was undeniably satisfying. It was an unexpected twist that left me feeling both perplexed and delighted.

Presenting it to others became an amusing affair. They would laugh when they first felt the surprising softness of the chin chin, expecting the usual crunch. However, their laughter turned to praise the moment they took a bite. The joy on their faces and the chorus of compliments that followed were the most rewarding parts of this little baking adventure.

In the end, my first attempt at making chin chin didn't turn out quite as expected, but it surely left an impression – a tale of perfectly imperfect, delightfully delicious, and unforgettable culinary surprise

Uju was notorious for her uncanny ability to wake up in the middle of the night and sneak into the kitchen to steal pieces of meat from the pots that her mother had prepared for the next day's meal. Her stealthy meat raids were the stuff of legends in her household, and no one could catch her in the act.

No matter what precautions her family took, Uju always found a way to outsmart them. Her mother tried placing the pots in different spots, her father attempted to stay awake to catch her, and her older brother even set up intricate traps around the kitchen, but all their efforts were in vain.

One night, the family decided to come up with a plan to teach Uju a lesson. They devised a cunning strategy involving fake meat, a hidden camera, and a loud alarm. Little did Uju know that her days of meat thievery were about to come to an end.

That night, Uju predictably snuck into the kitchen and, with an experienced hand, lifted the lid of the largest pot. She reached in to grab a succulent piece of meat, completely unaware that her family was watching the entire scene unfold on their hidden camera with bated breath.

As Uju triumphantly raised the piece of meat to her lips, she suddenly heard a loud, blaring sound that echoed through the house. Startled, she jerked back, spilling the meat onto the floor. Alas, it wasn't meat at all – it was a cleverly disguised toy made to look like meat! Uju's timing couldn't have been worse as her family rushed into the kitchen, catching her red-handed, surrounded by fake, rubbery meat.

As they all burst into laughter, Uju realized that her stealthy escapades had finally come to an end. From that day on, she became famous in her village as "the girl who got outsmarted by fake meat." And as Uju's family enjoyed the real meat with the most uproarious laughter, she learned an important lesson about honesty and the consequences of messing with fake meat in the middle of the night.