As kids, back in Nigeria, sometimes we’d go strolling with my aunt in the evenings to get nocturnal treats, roadside cornucopia of roast corn, plantains, akara, suya from food vendors lining the night streets with large vats of oil, burning coal pits, aromas intoxicating and magical…

My aunt sternly warned us not to stare at people because not everyone at the Night Market was human. If you looked closely enough, you would notice something amiss: people walking on their heads, sporting an extra eye, or looking at you without looking… Don’t stare, the spirits don’t like it.. Naturally we obliged, who wants truck with irate, funny looking spirits?

This is the basis for a tale of otherworldly commerce, ghostly night stalls, felines, and culinary delights, the pleasure of roadside roasts.