Smart Sindara, the Ifeomas, and the Fufu Adventure

Twelve-year-old Smart Sindara adjusted her lab goggles as she stared at the chaos in her kitchen. Two girls—Ifeoma One and Ifeoma Two (no one called them by their last names because even their teacher gave up)—were arguing over who loved fufu more.

“I’d eat fufu in space,” said Ifeoma One, pounding her fist on the table.

“I’d swim in egusi soup for it,” declared Ifeoma Two, arms crossed.

Sindara blinked. “You two argue about fufu every week. It’s time for science to settle this once and for all.”

She whipped out her purple polka-dot notebook. “Behold! Operation: Fufu Meter.

 Day 1: The Lab of Love (for Fufu)

In her backyard “lab” (which was really her dad’s old shed with fairy lights), Sindara set up a series of tests:

• Smell Endurance Test: Each Ifeoma had to sit in front of freshly pounded fufu without touching it.

• Temptation Maze: A bowl of fufu at the end of a maze of mini fans blowing the smell.

• Fufu IQ: Rapid-fire trivia about types of soup—Ogbono, Egusi, Okra—GO!

Ifeoma One scored high on trivia. Ifeoma Two scored higher on smell resistance. Sindara scribbled in her notebook, frowning. “Too close to call.”

Then Ifeoma One dropped a bombshell.

“I once smuggled fufu into Canada in my hand luggage.”

Ifeoma Two gasped. “So did I! Mine was wrapped in foil and hidden in my makeup bag!”

They both turned to Sindara, eyes wide. “Measure THAT.”

 Day 2: Fufu & Customs

Sindara’s eyes gleamed. “Time for a real test.”

She asked her uncle who worked at Murtala Muhammed Airport to stage a fake “Customs Inspection Drill.” With his help, they set up a pretend scanner, beeping lights, and a very grumpy Auntie Funke playing “Immigration Officer #1.”

Each Ifeoma was given a suitcase. Their challenge: sneak fufu past the “officials.”

Ifeoma One stuffed her stash inside a hollowed-out yamarita.
Ifeoma Two rolled hers into tiny balls and stuffed them into socks.

Auntie Funke sniffed the air suspiciously. “Who dey carry starch for here?”

Ifeoma One tried to act natural, casually pulling out her fake eyelash kit—which was filled with fufu glue balls.
Ifeoma Two panicked and ate her socks mid-inspection. Yes. Ate. The. Fufu. Socks.

Sindara gasped. “She ATE her luggage!”

“Better than getting caught!” Ifeoma Two said, chewing triumphantly.

 Day 3: The Verdict

Sindara gathered the results, charts, and leftover soup bowls.

“This has been a close contest,” she began, standing on a stool for dramatic effect. “But based on cunning, creativity, and complete disregard for food hygiene, the winner is…”

drumroll (played on empty pots)

“Ifeoma Two! For consuming footwear in the name of fufu!”

Ifeoma One protested, “That’s not love, that’s madness!”

But Ifeoma Two was already doing a victory dance, waving a wooden spoon like a trophy.

Sindara grinned. “You’re both officially the Queens of Fufu. Lagos isn’t ready.”

And just then, Grandma Titi walked in with a steaming bowl. “Who wants fufu?”

All three screamed, “ME!” and dived toward it—knocking over a fan, a bowl of egusi, and Sindara’s poor Fufu Meter in the process.

Mission complete. Science… messy. Fufu? Worth it.

What did you learn from this story? Oh, enjoy the sound track to this story….