One bright Saturday morning, the market was bustling as usual. Vendors shouted out their prices, children ran around playing, and customers haggled for the best deals. Mama Funke, with her broad smile and hearty laugh, was in the center of it all, surrounded by her array of fish—tilapia, catfish, mackerel, you name it.
A new customer, Mr. Femi, approached Mama Funke’s stall. He had heard about her from his neighbors but never believed the stories. “Good morning, Mama Funke,” he greeted politely.
“Good morning, my son!” Mama Funke bellowed, her voice booming across the market. “How can I help you today?”
“I need some fresh tilapia,” Mr. Femi said, eyeing the fish on display. Mama Funke picked up a large tilapia, inspecting it with a critical eye.
“This one is very fresh,” she said. Then, to Mr. Femi’s astonishment, she took a bite out of the raw fish. “See how fresh it is!” she declared, chewing contentedly.
“Of course!” she replied, grinning widely. “That’s how you know it’s truly fresh!”
Mr. Femi was at a loss for words. He glanced around to see other customers reacting with a mix of shock and amusement. Some were trying to stifle their laughter, while others were slowly backing away.
One lady, Mrs. Amaka, whispered to her friend, “Can you believe this woman? Eating raw fish like it’s suya!”
Mama Funke noticed the reaction and laughed heartily. “Ah, my people! You don’t know the joy of fresh fish until you’ve tried it like this!”
Despite the initial shock, some loyal customers found her antics endearing. They knew Mama Funke’s fish was the best in the market, and they appreciated her eccentricity. However, for newcomers like Mr. Femi, it was a sight to behold.
As the day went on, more and more people gathered around Mama Funke’s stall, not just to buy fish, but to witness her unusual eating habits. It was like a live show in the middle of the market. Mama Funke was in her element, playing up to the crowd and enjoying the attention.
Then, a young boy, Jide, dared to approach Mama Funke. “Mama Funke, can I try some raw fish too?” he asked, eyes wide with curiosity.
Mama Funke beamed at him. “Ah, my brave boy! Come, come!” She handed him a small piece of fish. Jide hesitated, then took a bite. The crowd watched in anticipation.
Jide’s face scrunched up as he chewed. “It’s… interesting,” he said diplomatically, prompting a roar of laughter from the onlookers.
Meanwhile, Mr. Femi decided he had seen enough. He quickly paid for his fish and made his way out of the market, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. “Only in Lagos,” he muttered.
Despite her odd habit, Mama Funke’s business continued to thrive. Her customers might have been scared away at first, but they always came back for the quality and the entertainment. She became a beloved figure in Surulere, known not just for her fish, but for her infectious energy and quirky personality.