The Psychology of Why Nigerians Can’t Ignore Free Food

Have you ever seen a Nigerian reject free food? Exactly.

If you’ve ever attended a Nigerian wedding, university seminar, church gathering, or even a simple office meeting where small chops were involved, you already know—free food is a magnet, and Nigerians are iron fillings.

But why exactly does free food hold such unholy power over us? Is it hunger? FOMO? A genetic adaptation for survival?

Let’s break it down.

1. The Economics of Free Food (A.K.A. “If It’s Free, It’s For Me” Theory)

Nigeria’s economy has conditioned us to seize every opportunity—and what better opportunity than free food? Why spend your own money when life is offering you a limited-time, zero-cost buffet?

Think about it: a plate of jollof at an owambe can easily cost you ₦5,000 at a fancy restaurant. But if Aunty Eniola’s daughter is getting married and serving the same jollof for free, your instincts tell you to take advantage of this economic miracle. After all, who no like awoof?

Fake Study Alert: According to the University of Jollof Studies, 9 out of 10 Nigerians will abandon their original plans if free food enters the equation.

2. The Science of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out on Food Edition)

Imagine this: You just finished eating at home. You’re full. You tell yourself, “Nothing can tempt me.” Then, you step into an event and hear, “Food is ready!” Suddenly, your stomach resets like a factory reset iPhone.

This is biological FOMO in action. The brain releases dopamine when we anticipate a reward, and food is one of the strongest triggers for that response. Free food? That’s a double dose of happiness.

And don’t forget the social aspect—if you don’t take, others will. Nigerians have learned that if you wait too long, all you’ll get is toothpick and soft drink.

3. The Nigerian Survival Instinct (A.K.A. “I Don’t Know When I’ll See This Kind Opportunity Again” Theory)

Nigerians are natural hustlers. We’ve mastered the art of maximizing resources, and that extends to food. If there’s food today, you chop well well, because who knows what tomorrow holds?

This survival instinct is why some people collect takeaways for “friends” who don’t exist. It’s why, at an owambe, you’ll see one person holding two plates, one nylon bag, and a confused caterer trying to calculate how the food disappeared so fast.

4. Nigerian Social Culture (A.K.A. “It Would Be Rude Not To Chop” Theory)

Food is love, and in Nigeria, rejecting food is like rejecting affection, blessings, and possibly your entire lineage. When someone offers you food, it’s an unspoken bond, and refusing it can be seen as disrespect.

Aunty Nkechi: “Come and eat.”
You: “I’m not hungry.”
Aunty Nkechi: “So you’re saying my food is not good enough for you??”

Just eat, abeg.

5. The Ultimate Nigerian Test (A.K.A. “If You Ignore Free Food, Are You Even Nigerian?”)

It’s simple: if you have never strategically positioned yourself at a buffet, moved with military precision towards small chops, or taken takeaway packs for “later,” are you truly Nigerian?

This isn’t just a cultural trait. It’s a badge of honor, a survival skill, a generational legacy passed down from our ancestors who saw free food and knew instinctively: “If it’s free, it’s for me.”

Final Thoughts: Free Food Is a Calling

At the end of the day, free food isn’t just about hunger—it’s about economics, psychology, FOMO, and the deep cultural understanding that awoof no dey run belle (most times). It’s a phenomenon that unites Nigerians across class, tribe, and region.

So next time you see free food and feel that magnetic pull, don’t fight it. Embrace it. You are simply answering destiny’s call.

Tag someone who can’t resist free food, no matter how full they are.