One thing I love more than Nigerian weddings is Nigerian food. But let’s be real, y’all. Getting it all to the venue is a whole other ball game. When I came to pick up the food, the grandma chef said, it’s enough, Fitu, you need a second cup. I said, challenge accepted. The divided high compartment came in clutch to load the jalapeno fries, the chicken, you know, the most important dishes. But y’all, it’s 100 degrees outside. Hey, I’m pretty sure I lost five pounds from all the sweat and gaining right back from snacking on all the cup puffs. It was smelling too good, I couldn’t fuck myself. But see how everything just fit with extra room left behind? Even grandma had to come back and say. Swallowed everything. Yes, sir. Now the real test is me getting the food to the venue before I swallow everything.