Volume 4, No. 1
Face it. We've all observed strange behavior in public and wanted to write about it. Solape Adeyemi decided to do just that with this short, quirky piece about a girl and her cake.
Cake at OAU Gate
by Solape Adetutu Adeyemi
It was 6 p.m. and there I was, stranded at the OAU gate, waiting for a bus that was supposed to ferry me and my mom to Lagos—specifically Ojota (or “Ojohooota,” as my Bini friend insists on calling it).
We had spent the entire day on campus chasing admission for my 17-year-old self, hoping to secure a place to study medicine. By the time we reached the gate, our tired was not just tired—it had gone into retirement
We’d been standing there for over an hour, and not even the faint rumble of an exhaust pipe hinted that help was on the way. But we kept the faith, encouraged by the confident, matter-of-fact assurances of fellow bystanders who clearly had more hope than evidence.
Then along came a lady carrying a medium-sized cake—pink and yellow, very bright, very bold, and very visible in its transparent polythene bag. As a lifelong cake enthusiast (and part-time baker back when I wasn’t as lazy as I am now), my interest was immediately piqued.
But after a few minutes of waiting, my curiosity turned to shock: the cake’s owner began licking the butter icing. Licking it. Not a quick dab for “quality control.” No—this was a full-on, slow, meditative, spiritual communion with the icing. She licked and licked and kept licking for the entire hour we waited.
It didn’t take long to realise that she must have baked the cake on campus and was supposed to deliver it to a client in Lagos. A client who, unbeknownst to them, would be receiving a cake already seasoned with enzymes that had no business being part of the recipe.
I felt genuinely sorry for that client—poor soul—who would not only eat the cake but, in generous measure, her saliva. I felt even sorrier knowing that spoilage was already setting in, and in a few days the cake would turn sore and confused the way only a mistreated cake can.
Poor pink-and-yellow butter-icing cake.
You deserved better. Truly.
About the Author
Currently, Solape Adeyemi serves as the Vice Chairman of the Association of Nigerian Authors in Lagos, Nigeria, where she continues to contribute to the literary and cultural landscape of her community. Her dedication to both her professional career and advocacy for environmental sustainability demonstrates her multifaceted talents and unwavering commitment to making a positive impact in the world.
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