Akara, kulikuli and our disconnection from reality, by Adekunle Adekoya

SINCE last weekend, the internet was literally rent asunder over remarks made by the wife of the President, Senator Oluremi Tinubu. In a video which went viral, the First Lady, in company of other ladies of the realm, was seen advising people, especially womenfolk, to engage in cottage enterprises like frying akara for sale, roasting corn for sale, as well as making cakes from groundnut paste. Cakes made from groundnut paste is what we call kulikuli here.

A seemingly honest-to-God advice, you would say, abi? But many Nigerians thought otherwise. Internet content makers invaded Facebook and Tik-Tok, with skits on akara frying, corn roasting, and kulikuli selling. I saw one, against the backdrop of a London street, where corn was being roasted and kulikuli was on sale, with exhortation to viewers not to take the First lady’s advice lightly, as they would smile to the banks if they take up the enterprise. Of course, while some of the skits were made with real life characters, a majority of them that trended heavily were obviously made with AI, or Artificial Intelligence. Even the president was not spared, as there were skits showing him hawking akara in full agbada on the streets. There was another one, that showed the First Lady and the President sitting at a roadside, roasting corn, and asking passers-by to buy. Very funny, no?

But I think it is apt to construct and deconstruct the First Lady’s advice in terms of the realities faced by ordinary Nigerians as they struggle daily to make ends meet.

First, not a few people that I know have prospered by frying akara for sale. Indeed, frying akara is a common thing in Yorubaland. It features as part of foods at the funeral of departed fathers and mothers. It is also made and eaten at the anniversaries of the deaths of departed parents. Commercially, the most successful, iconic akara seller is the woman at Osu, near Ilesa, in Osun State. In 1984, on my way to Ijero-Ekiti where I was posted for NYSC, I remember seeing young girls dressed in turquoise blue frocks selling akara to motorists and their passengers. I have eaten the Osu akara on many occasions.

Even today, other akara sellers, modelling after the Osu one can be seen along the road at Ikire, on the Ibadan-Ife-Ilesa expressway. In many towns and cities of western Nigeria, there exist thousands of Iya Alakara, whose lifelong occupation has been frying akara for sale. Nothing novel in it. Nothing bad in selling akara. Or corn. Even kulikuli, a popular snack introduced into Yorubaland by Northerners, is a commodity whose preparation has become an industry. From getting the required quantity of groundnut, de-husking it, and making a paste out of it after extracting the oil, and packaging it for sale, it has become a huge enterprise, whose value nationwide can be estimated in billions of naira. It may shock people to discover that not a few Nigerians have succeeded in life selling akara, kulikuli or corn.

To be candid, almost all the fruits we eat today in Southern Nigeria are sold in wheelbarrows by migrants from the North. Everywhere, you see them selling oranges, water melons, mangoes, carrots, and the like. What hits me is that youths of Southern Nigeria think these undertakings beneath their dignity, and I think they are wrong, for many of these migrants from the North sustain themselves and remit money back home for the upkeep of their familiesa with proceeds from sales of fruits alone. Some of them have two, three wives, and as much as eight, nine children. 

The downside of the First Lady’s exhortation as it concerns frying akara for sale probably came when she suggested that as little as N50,000 can be enough to start an akara-frying enterprise. I think that is what probably triggered the backlash and resultant skits. 

It is simply impossible today, with the state of things in Nigeria, to start an akara-frying enterprise with N50,000. For a starter, the items needed will include a frying pan or small basin, a gas stove or charcoal burner, at least two litres of oil, at least one paint bucket of beans, and a visible place, usually a bus stop or some other suitable place along a road. Can N50,000 cover all these, with the cost of gas, charcoal, cost of vegetable oil? And we haven’t added incidentals like people who will collect “rent” for the space to be used! It is this disconnect that triggered the skits. 

That is where the problem is. There is a huge chasm disconnecting those managing our affairs from our day-to-day experiences. That disconnection manifested earlier. 

Last week, Special Adviser to the President on Media & Publicity, Mr Adebayo Onanuga said during an interview on Arise Television that he couldn’t see the hunger Nigerians are complaining of. Would people complain if things were right with them? Will a child cry if not hungry or beaten? If a presidential spokesman cannot see hunger in the land, how can the First Lady see that N50,000 cannot start an akara venture?

Now that the Presidential Villa in Abuja is said to be powered by renewable solar energy, can anybody who lives and works there still share the pains we endure daily from providers of public electricity? As I write, there has been an outage in my part of Lagos since Tuesday. No idea when supply will be restored. How can a governor or president see our pain? He cannot, because he is too far away from us, and never bothers to check on us to see how we are doing. In all, a little more empathy for us from those ruling us will make a difference in how they approach running government for the people. Abi? TGIF.