Abacha | Zikoko!

General Sani Abacha died 24 years ago, but he’s still Nigeria’s OG sugar daddy in 2022. The evidence of his massive stealing of Nigeria’s assets in his five-year military regime continues to outlast him.

On August 23rd, 2022, the United States agreed to return to Nigeria the sum of $23m which Abacha stole over two decades ago. The US alone has returned more than $334.7m linked to the former dictator.

But as nice as it is for Nigeria to get some of its money back, there’s been a lack of transparency in how the returned Abacha loot is spent. Nigerians just aren’t feeling the impact directly enough.

For example, the government wants to spend the fresh $23m on projects like the Abuja-Kano road, the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway and the Second Niger Bridge.

But we have other ideas on more tangible ways to spend it:

Giveaway, obviously

It’s not easy to be a Nigerian these days. You just need to look at the state of the economy to agree everyone needs some credit alerts.

Call it hardship allowance or allowance for igbo and shayo, but everyday Nigerians need to personally feel touched by the Abacha loot.

Give it to ASUU

The Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) has been on its annual ~~leave~~ strike for the past six months because of its unending conflicts with the Federal Government (FG). The two parties have left thousands of students stranded at home while they battle over money and control. FG should think about throwing the $23m ASUU’s way to end the strike… for now.

Compensate Nigerian students

Speaking of those stranded students, there have recently been conversations about how they should be compensated. This $23m from ~~our sugar daddy~~ Abacha should do some leg work in appeasing them for the time lost at home without education.

ALSO READ: Why Nigerian Students Deserve Compensation for ASUU Strike

Bribe the national grid

The national grid has been a relentless opp to Nigerians, especially in 2022, with many breakdowns and blackouts. The government can make it stop by bribing it to chill or something.

Jollof rice festival

The way to anybody’s heart is through their stomach and what better way to feel the impact of Abacha’s recovered loot than for the government to feed everyone?

$23m feels just right enough to throw a Guinness World Records-breaking Jollof rice festival. Everybody gets a taste of the national ~~cake~~ rice!

Expensive sacrifice at a T-junction

Transparency International estimates that Abacha may have stolen up to $5 billion from Nigeria between 1993 and 1998. We’re yet to get half of that money back.

We can use this little $23m to offer an expensive sacrifice to the gods to help in the recovery of everything that took flight under Abacha’s watch. You spend money to make money.

Pay bounty on oil thieves

Buhari recently complained that oil thieves are partly to blame for Nigeria’s revenue-generation issues. Some of these thieves are “big men” cashing out from robbing Nigeria. We can use the Abacha loot to place bounties on their heads to encourage citizens to help security agencies to find them more easily.

Tithe

It’s important to always give unto Caesar — and unto the Lord — in style.

ALSO READ: There’s a Place for Animals in the Nigerian Public Service

Samson Toromade

August 25, 2022

Citizen

Abacha, Abacha loot, Muhammadu Buhari, Sani Abacha
Abacha — the food, not the Nigerian sugar daddy — is a popular Eastern Nigerian dish also known as “African Salad”.

Typically made with the African oil bean seeds (ugba), abacha is one delicacy that can make an Igbo man willingly surrender his belongings — it’s that good. Not everyone is sold on this dish, though, as some argue that it’s overrated.

Image source: Meal Planner kitch’n

We spoke to seven Nigerians, and here’s what they think:

“It tastes much better than it looks”

— Ayomide, 23

I have to admit that, for the longest time, whenever I saw people eating abacha, I thought it was rubbish. There’s just this way it used to look to me.

In January 2022, I eventually decided to try it when my mum bought some for her friends. I was pleasantly surprised. I absolutely love the unique taste, especially when mixed with the sauce. I now actively look for abacha sellers to buy from every day.

RELATED: Fifteen Nigerian Foods You Absolutely Have to Try

“I thought it tasted bland”

— Abass, 31

I had my first taste of abacha in 2010. I was a first-year student at the college of health technology in Yaba, and I noticed that many of my female colleagues loved buying it with stew, ponmo and all the orisirisi added.

I decided to try it one day, and while it wasn’t exactly bad, it tasted more like a regular salad — nothing special. I’ve had it once since then, and I honestly think it’s kinda overrated.

“It tasted like soap”

— Esther, 21

I don’t like it at all. I first had abacha in Lagos in 2020. Before then, I always saw it around, and I’d wonder what it tasted like.

On the day I finally had the opportunity to eat it, I was with a friend, and she had called on a hawker to purchase some. She asked if I wanted a plate, but I decided to try some from her portion first, before buying what I wouldn’t be able to eat.

When we got home, she dished it out, and I was eager to try it. The very first spoon that went into my mouth came back out with the same speed with which it entered. It tasted like it had soap in it. It might have been the oil, but I’ve never tried to eat it again. It’s overrated, abeg.

“Abacha is definitely not overrated”

— Eniola, 26

The first time I had it was around 2007 when it was prepared by my Yoruba father. Before then, I never knew something like that existed.

I prepare it now myself, and even though it isn’t exactly the same as what my dad used to make (he’s late now), I still find the taste to be really sumptuous and unique. The taste also varies, depending on how you make it, but it’s a hit every single time.

“I hated it until I got to Enugu”

— Amaka*, 25

As an Igbo girl, I always used to get teased when I said I didn’t like abacha. It’s like people expected me to love it just because I’m Igbo.

We live in Lagos and have never made it at home because my dad doesn’t like it so my first taste was from a roadside seller. It was so bad and I swore never to let it pass through my lips again.

But in 2019, I went for NYSC in Enugu and I was bullied into having abacha again, and I realised that I’d been deceived in Lagos. Enugu abacha is fire and I honestly feel sorry for people eating the rubbish they sell in Lagos.

RELATED: Eating My Way Through the Coal City

“It’s not that great”

— John*, 27

I’d lived in the North my whole life and only moved to Lagos in 2018. Lagos is a whole new experience, and as a foodie, I was eager to try new dishes.

A friend introduced me to abacha and from how hype she was about it, I was expecting something spectacular. The first time I saw it, I was a bit taken aback — it doesn’t look that great and the smell is somehow. Yet, I found the courage to try it; while I loved the several protein obstacles, I’m not a huge fan of abacha itself.

It’s not bad but I don’t love it.

“It takes some getting used to”

— Hannah*, 28

I like abacha on some days. Other days, I don’t even want to see it. Eating it for the first time, it attacks you with an entirely new texture, and it’s like your brain has to override the “what the hell is this?” alert.

Abacha isn’t bad, but I don’t think it’s that great, really. I guess it depends a lot on who makes it.

*Some names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.

NEXT READ: Different Types of Places to Eat in Nigeria, Explained

Tife Oni

July 27, 2022

Chopist, Eat

Abacha, Food, Nigerians
Yes, japa-ing is the latest thing. You wake up one day, pack your load and leave Nigeria and its many deficiencies alone. That’s commendable. But then, there’s one thing no one prepares you for, and that is the number of Nigerian foods you will miss when you are out of the country.

We made a list of some of those foods:

1. Ewa agoyin

Yes, you can cook it at home. But can you, really? Can you replicate the taste? The sauce, the soft yams that are sometimes paired with it?

Can you get this peculiar flavour?

2. Suya

LMAO. There’s no other way to say this. Suya comes with the Nigerian package. You see those TikTok videos of people making suya? Welp. If it is not suya, it cannot taste like suya.

3. Ofada rice

You know, you can easily cook this on your own. But can your neighbours withstand the smell? Sometimes being a good neighbour means that you have to let go of some of the things you enjoy eating.

4. Abacha

Can you find Abacha hawkers in Canada or New York?

5. Efo riro

There are a lot of plants in the abroad, but I’m sure none of those people have a farm for Efo soko or Efo tete. So, what’s going to happen?

6. Kilishi

This one can be managed by shipping. Your people in Nigeria can ship it over to you.

7. Agege bread

Sure, you can get proper (and better) American bread. But can it ever be like Agege bread?

8. Bole

Port Harcourt people will feel this the most. But even those who are not from Port Harcourt will also know what it feels like to be in a country where bole is not readily available.

9. Amala and abula

We know this can be cooked at home. But can anything beat the local abula in a local buka? The heat of the buka, the sweat, the… *whew*

10. Okpa

If you’re a foreigner visiting Nigeria for the first time, this one is for you:

Dear Foreigners, Here Are 15 Foods To Try When You Visit Nigeria

Kunle Ologunro

January 14, 2021

Chopist

Abacha, Abula, Nigerian Food, nigerians abroad, okpa
It’s impossible to drive through Enugu and not think of food.
The entire city just says “come and eat” and with two free days to spend in Enugu, I planned to do just that.
When exploring a new city in Nigeria, guides are great but no one knows the city like a Keke rider, a curator at the museum or the bellhop at your hotel. If you plan on eating your way through a city, ask them. It’s how I got the best and most diverse food in two days, ever.
I wasn’t going to be doing all of it alone. My friend, Omesham came in from Abuja to join me on this.
Abacha at Fire For Fire

My first plug was a Keke driver, who I picked up from the front of my hotel on Independence Layout. His name is Arinze, but everyone calls him Terry G. Keke riding is how he makes a living, but dancing is how he wants to make a life.
“Where can I get the best local food?”
“Timber!” he said, excited. “They have the best Abacha in the East.”
He sounded so sure, you’d know for sure it was his fave.
My next stop was the National Museum. By the time the guide took me around and I asked her the same question, “where can I get the best local food,” she knew we were new in town.
She dragged everyone around that she could into the conversations, and the suggestions didn’t stop coming. What to eat, where to go.
The most recurring place? An Abacha place called Fire For Fire. One museum worker even offered to take us there in his car.
All of Fire For Fire is one large canopy and two umbrellas, somewhere off Abakaliki road in Enugu G.R.A. It’s a blend of mismatched chairs and tables, with the magic being made at the center of it all.
Several people were crammed beneath the canopies and spilling out of them. Another constant stream of people continued to come and go. Business is obviously going great for them.
I’d had Abacha before, but now I know that you haven’t really had Abacha until you’ve had Enugu Abacha. Being born, raised, and currently living in Lagos, all I’ve really had is Lagos Abacha.
The textures and tastes were different. The Ugba in the Abacha is fresher than any I had ever had, and I’ve had a lot.
By the time I cleaned up my plate, I knew I’d never again be able to have Abacha in Lagos without longing for ‘Fire for Fire’.
Ofe Onugbu and Akpu at Mama Onyinye

If you ask ten Enugu people to recommend a food joint, eight will recommend Mama Onyinye and ten of them will ask you to try out Agbugbu. Agbugbu is a porridge made out of a kind of beans and yam, something Enugu is proud of. I headed to Mama Onyinye wanting to have Agbugbu, but by the time I got there, sold out. Why do bad things happen to good people?
I settled for Akpu and Ofe Onugbu, mostly because I’d never had it before. I’d always been put off by the strong smell of fermented cassava, so I tried to go with the safer option; Eba.
“If you want to enjoy Onugbu, you have to use Akpu,” Mama Onyinye insisted.
Discovering the gloriousness of this Akpu is probably the highlight of my trip. The light, fluffy, and sweet aftertaste will make you keep going until you are done, even if the mound is almost the size of your head. Akpu and Onugbu is like bread and butter, like Jollof Rice and dodo.
Ofe Aku and White Rice at Ntachi Osa

Mama Onyinye might be great, but a carousel operator at the mall wasn’t so impressed.
“Nobody dey cook pass Ntachi Osa,” KC argued. “Go there, buy correct Agbugbu and step down with one Coke”.
And so I did, first thing the next morning, but unfortunately, the Agbugbu that KC swore will change my life, wasn’t ready. Strike two.
I settled for Ofe Aku and white rice.
Ofe Aku is just like Banga soup, but there was a difference in taste that I couldn’t place.
“Curry”, Omesham said. That was it.
I could definitely taste a bit of curry and a healthy dose of pepper. I’m Urhobo and very loyal to Banga soup and although Ofe Aku was admittedly tasty I couldn’t get past the extra ingredients which felt off for me. Ofe Aku and White Rice is an interesting twist, but now I know I’m definitely going to try banging Banga with White Rice.
Ukwa at Open Sheraton

Before heading to Enugu I had a friend put out an open call on Twitter for people to point me in the direction of the best local food in Enugu. One response I really liked was from Lekan, who pointed me to Open Sheraton.
Checkout Celebrities just beside ShopRite Enugu, Open Sheraton in New Haven also
— Garri-fied (@thisislekan) August 20, 2018
I had Ukwa with a side of dodo and fried yam. I tried my best but I couldn’t get past two forks in. Although it looked like beans and kind of smelled like beans, turns out Ukwa is actually made out of breadfruit. Only reason I didn’t already know this was because I promised not to Google anything I ate, just so I’d be surprised.
It’s safe to say I was. I’d never had breadfruit before and I’m not sure what in the name led me to believe it was a sweet and supple fruit, maybe like a peach.
Akidi at Open Sheraton

We were already at Open Sheraton and I couldn’t for the life of me manage to stomach the Ukwa. Ukwa is not bad, it’s just not for me.
So I decided to try something else off my list.
Akidi was up, and it turned out to be beans, albeit black beans. The irony. I couldn’t place all the ingredients so I asked one of the food sellers. Turns out they add spinach and Ugba. By the time I finished, I knew I wanted to have it again.
Ofe Nsala and Akpu at Odi Okwu

Odi Okwu was my last food stop. Even though I was spoilt for choice, I ended up going with it. I took Odi Okwu which literally translates to “it’s fire!” as a good sign. I’d asked for Agbugbu, and it was unavailable, again. I had to ask.
“It’s hard to make, and many places don’t bother making it,” the manager said. “The places that make it do so early in the morning and it’s usually finished by noon.”
I’d heard my Igbo friends rave about Ofe Nsala so I was excited to try it. I paired it with my new love – Akpu.
If the smell is why you haven’t had Akpu, you need to get past it and get familiar with the greatness that it is.
Ofe Nsala had me asking myself why it had taken me so long to explore Igbo food. I could have been having Ofe Nsala all my life, instead I’ve been drawing Ogbono. And Ogbono is great, but it’s just not Ofe Nsala.

Ofe Oha and Akpu at Odi Okwu

Omesham had been on the lookout for Oha the whole trip. I had also never had Oha so I dug into her food too. The cook was a little heavy handed with the salt and my taste buds closed shop at the very first taste of the soup.
Because I’m Urhobo I had subconsciously keyed into the Nigerian stereotype that culturally I was very similar to an Igbo person in terms of dressing, which is true, but false as regards local food.
My palette wasn’t prepared for the cultural shock and it’s going to take some adjusting for it to go back to eating rice and stew in Lagos every day, right after a diverse food explosion over in such a short time. Why do all good things come to an end?
When I go to sleep at night, there’ll be a bittersweet feeling at the back of my throat, because as much as I ate through the old city, canopy restaurants, and gracious Abacha, I didn’t try Agbugbu.
Now, I’ll have to find someone who’s Enugu enough to make me some Agbugbu.

Toketemu Ohwovoriole

August 28, 2018

Chopist

Abacha, Akidi, Chopist, Enugu food, Enugu\, Fire for fire, Food, Igbo food, Local food, Nigerian Food, Ntachi Osa, Open Sheraton, Ukwa