Godwin

As an African, this is shocking The X post by Chudé showcases a recipe for Cajun-style boiled peanuts, a Southern delicacy that involves soaking raw peanuts overnight, then boiling them with a variety of spices including Old Bay seasoning, crushed red pepper, and Worcestershire sauce, which is not a common preparation method in many African contexts where peanuts are typically roasted or used in stews. This method of preparing peanuts, as seen in the video, transforms them into a soft, bean-like texture with a spicy kick, differing significantly from the crunchy, roasted peanuts familiar in African cuisine, potentially surprising those accustomed to the latter. The reaction from African users, such as "As an African, this is shocked!," highlights a cultural gap in food preparation and consumption, where boiled peanuts are a novelty or even seen as unusual, despite peanuts being a staple crop in many African regions.

Beneath the roaring chaos of buses and shouting conductors, under the worn concrete belly of the Oshodi bridge, a woman rebuilds her life one sale at a time. Her name is not widely known, but her story is echoing across Nigeria like thunder in a quiet sky. She was in love. She believed in a dream not hers, but his. So she gave. She sacrificed. While hawking goods on the hot streets of Lagos, she sent her boyfriend money ₦50,000 here, ₦20,000 there to fund his education. She believed they were building a future together. But when the graduation photos were posted and the celebration ended, he made a different choice: he married someone else. An “educated woman.” “I’m not a trenches babe,” she says with quiet defiance in a now-viral TikTok video shared by @ekaftv. “I sell market in Oshodi under bridge, and I come from Ikorodu. I paid his school fees. I was warned… but love blind me.” And just like that, the man she believed in became a stranger. Her love became a lesson. But what could have destroyed her has only strengthened her. With a steely gaze and worn hands, she now pushes forward with renewed purpose. “Na my market be my relationship now,” she says. “The market dey give me joy. If I want anything, I buy am from my profit.” Her heartbreak is not her identity. She’s a provider. The only daughter in a family where both parents are gone. Now she carries the weight of hope for her four younger brothers all of whom she’s sponsoring through school with the same hustle that once built a dream for someone else. No hookup. No shortcuts. Just sweat and pride. wrote @eyinjuolodumare. But not all comments were kind. Some mocked her pain, proving yet again how society often ridicules women’s sacrifices in relationships even when those sacrifices build empires. Still, she doesn’t waver. She stands each day behind her goods, her dignity intact. Her heart may be bruised, but her spirit is unbroken. As she told her story, eyes glistening but voice firm, one thing was clear: she may have lost a man, but she found herself. And that, in this concrete jungle of betrayal and resilience, may be the greatest victory of all.