A Shopping Spree @ Ogbete Main Market

Since I couldn't say to my mum that I have this crazy idea to run around the market taking pictures of food stuff without an actual intent to buy anything, I came up with a plan for different dishes we could cook, in which getting food stuff for the dishes would take us all around the market . I was basically trying to relive one of the countless shopping trips that happened every Saturday since I can remember. And if you have relatives that somehow never manage to part from the motherland's kitchen, they always use you as private DHL for local food stuff. So, I had a ground crayfish and dried pepper order to deliver to my sister in the UK.

This what my list looked like pepper soup, Ofe ewa, Anyala with ose orji and the DHL order. And I had this burning desire to also have an Okpa di oku.

We entered the market via the old park and were greeted by the okirika traders. Okirika refers to second hand clothes shipped from abroad. I remember at sometimes I preferred these clothes because they were foreign, and they made me feel like the foreign characters in the movies I watched growing up. Or the wheelbarrow jewelry seller who I always eyed from the corner of my eyes whilst running after my mum's quick steps. So gradually the goods changed to household items busy narrow isles with traders yelling trying to grab the attention of various shoppers 'nwanyi oma come and buy from me now’ i cholu ose ? do you want pepper ? My own fine now, these remarks would accompany us over the next few hours. Repeated in different tones and for different products.

We went on to greet some friends or ex colleagues of my mother as she actually used to have a stall in the market a few years back. You could see the surprises on their face when they saw me. Hey o nwa gi nwanyi bu ife a? Is this your daughter? o nke no na Germany? the one in Germany? Hey otogo kwa. She has grown. hmm well only horizontally I guess because I have been this height the last 11 years, I believe but if you say so then I have grown. Anyways we locals we all know it is a mother’s pride to present her children to show what they have become. Sort of a living confirmation that their investments were not in vain. Especially being Igbos its a big thing to say o nwa mu bi na obodo oyibo or o nwa bu doktor forgive my igbo if its hasn't been right but it simply means it’s my child the one that lives abroad or my child the one that is a doctor

It took us approximately 4 hours to navigate through the market place and get all we wanted. I remember thinking now I know why almost 16 years ago my best friend’s mother wanted to know if i used deodorants. I understand why she asked back then.

The scotching sun and pool of people hustling running around the market place fully dressed up didn’t make for a pleasant experience for the sense of smell. It definitely helps you appreciate the aroma of different things as there is so much stuff in the air to take in, whilst in search of our beloved soup spices.

Having someone shop whilst you take pictures certainly distracts the marketers as you would otherwise have to explain to them why you are behaving like oyibo (white man) To get the UK Parcel done we needed to go to the end of the market where all the grinding is done. Don’t exactly know how my mom negotiated the prices as my ears were still ringing 10 mins after I left the area from the symphony of the grinding machines. I hope my clothes don’t start stinking of crayfish.

All done and ready to go we ended up with three bags, we decided to use the local shopping assistant. You had two options the wheelbarrow boys or the little boys that carried the bags on their heads. I believe the latter is a new development which I can’t remember from back then. We opted for option one, though I dare say ours was nothing compared to the Milo boys and yes sometimes they do tip over I witnessed one today. There is never really a dull moment in a Nigerian local market. It’s always full of excitement and plenty of sweat but we are happy it’s over now.