Weeks had passed since their reconciliation, weeks that had allowed Anwana and Tade's bond to grow stronger and deeper. While Anwana prepared for her upcoming practical interview, a different kind of preparation was underway for Tade's mother, Remi Adebanjo.
It was a difficult decision to make, but she had decided to move back into her late husband's residence at Lekki Phase II.
After the chaos with Aisha and the emotional toll it had taken, she realized she needed her own space, and more importantly, her son needed his privacy.
"Mum, are you sure about this?" Tade asked, his voice filled with concern as he pulled the last of her boxes from the car.
"I miss my late husband, my dear," she said, spinning around playfully in her vibrant buba. Her gele was tied neatly, catching the sunlight and reflecting the luxury of the material. "Don't worry, I can stay here. I've already renovated it, and you know your mother, naa the woman of luxury!"
"Mummmyooooo! Ahh, I know!" Tade said, laughing loudly.
"Oya, Bisola!" she screamed at her new cleaner. "Come and take the boxes in!" A young girl in a blue dress hurried over, taking the boxes with a nervous smile.
"House cleaner already?" Tade asked, amused.
"What are you saying, Tade? I got a chef, too! Don't play. The entire place will be lively. You know I only came to stay with you because I didn't want to stay alone."
Tade smiled. "Okay, Madam Remi."
"And listen, ehn," she continued, her voice filled with a mischievous excitement. "I'm going to hang out with the girls this evening. I need to prepare."
Tade was both surprised and happy to hear this. "Ah, ah, don't go and…"
"And what? Abeg, leave your Mummy to enjoy. You, you have Anwana. I have nobody. It's high time I relaxed myself, joor."
Tade laughed, and they walked into the house together. The compound of the late Mr. Oluwafemi Adebanjo was a testament to his class and wealth.
A high, ornate black gate opened to reveal a sprawling, paved driveway lined with perfectly manicured gardens. A fountain in the center of a circular roundabout whispered with the sound of trickling water. The main house was a stately two-story building painted a warm beige, with large, arched windows and a wide balcony. The entire space exuded a quiet, sophisticated grandeur.
***
The day of the practical interview dawned with a crisp, clear morning. The company's large, industrial kitchen buzzed with a different kind of energy.
The air was thick with the scent of spices, oil, and nervous anticipation. Anwana stood at her designated station, a clean apron tied around her waist, her heart a drum against her ribs.
She was flanked by her two competitors: Biodun Oladele, a tall, stern-faced man in his late 40s, and Chioma Okafor, a precise-looking woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun.
The Head Chef, a respected veteran named Chef Kunle, and two other senior managers stood as judges. Tade was not among them, but Anwana knew he was watching from the observation deck above. His presence was a silent anchor, a source of strength she desperately needed.
"The rules are simple," Chef Kunle announced, his voice booming across the kitchen. "You have exactly two hours. The task is to create a healthy, light meal suitable for our staff. It must be cost-effective, easy to replicate on a large scale, and most importantly, it must taste good."
The clock started. Biodun, the veteran, immediately began to work on a complex stew, his movements practiced and confident. Chioma, the culinary school graduate, started on a sophisticated grilled chicken and vegetable medley. Anwana, however, paused. She looked at the array of ingredients: fresh fish, eggs, assorted vegetables, yams, and various herbs and spices. The others were focused on gourmet meals, but she had to think about the everyday needs of the staff. What would be good for them after a long, stressful day?
Her decision was to go with something simple yet comforting: boiled yam with fried fish and a side salad. She chose this because it was a classic, balanced Nigerian meal that was easy to prepare, easy to eat, and very affordable. It was a simple dish, but she would make it perfect.
The next hour and a half was a blur of activity. Anwana worked with a calm focus. She boiled the yams to a perfect softness, fried the fish to a golden crisp, and meticulously chopped the vegetables for the salad, dressing it with a light, zesty vinaigrette. While the others were creating complex sauces and complicated garnishes, Anwana's plate remained beautifully simple, a testament to the idea that less is often more.
As the two-hour mark approached, the judges walked to each station. Chef Kunle and the managers tasted each dish in silence.
First was Biodun's complex stew. It was rich and flavorful but heavy and not exactly "light." Next was Chioma's grilled chicken, which was technically perfect but lacked a certain soul. Finally, they came to Anwana's station.
She presented her plate. "Boiled Yam with Fried Fish and Salad," she announced.
Chef Kunle raised an eyebrow. "Simple, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir," Anwana replied, her voice firm. "And that's the point. It's a meal that provides a good balance of protein, carbohydrates, and vegetables. It's a comfort food that a busy staff member can eat without feeling weighed down. It's also incredibly cost-effective to make on a large scale, and it can be prepared quickly and efficiently."
She took a deep breath. "The salad is not just for decoration. It's to add a fresh, crunchy texture to the meal, and the lemon vinaigrette is to cut through the richness of the fried fish."
The judges tasted her food. The boiled yam was soft and fluffy, the fish was perfectly seasoned, and the salad was a refreshing counterpoint. The simplicity was its strength.
"This is not just food," one of the senior managers said, his voice impressed. "It's a meal that shows a clear understanding of our purpose here. It shows empathy for the consumer."
The judges withdrew to deliberate. Anwana's heart was in her throat. She had taken a risk, going for a simple meal while the others had gone for complex ones. Did it pay off?
A few minutes later, Chef Kunle returned. He stood before the three of them, his expression unreadable.
"The decision was not an easy one," he began. "All of you are talented chefs. But this role requires more than just culinary skill. It requires an understanding of logistics, of our staff, and of our mission."
He paused and then looked directly at Anwana. "Congratulations, Ms. James. You got the job."
Anwana's knees felt weak with relief and joy. A wide smile spread across her face. Her risky decision had been the right one. She had not only won the job, but she had also proven that she was worthy of it, on her own merit.
Meanwhile, on the observation deck, Tade watched with an immense sense of pride. He had known she would do it. He knew she would succeed. And as he watched her shake the Head Chef's hand,
he knew that their shared future had just begun.