Suya is a popular Nigerian street food made with grilled meat that is seasoned with a variety of spices, including peanuts, ginger, and cayenne pepper
Rumors often spread quickly, sometimes even overshadowing the truth, and suya, the beloved Nigerian grilled meat, has been no exception.
Whispers about its origins—ranging from claims of “dead animals” to “human parts,” supposedly explaining its evening-only sales—have circulated widely.
However, a journey to various suya joints across Lagos reveals that the reasons behind this nocturnal tradition are far more complex, rooted in culture, climate, economics, and psychology.
In Lagos, suya is more than just food; it’s a cherished evening ritual.
Cultural Roots, Climate Comfort, and the Pull of the Night
The tradition of selling suya predominantly at night has deep cultural roots. Originating from the Hausa people of Northern Nigeria, suya was traditionally consumed in the evenings after prayers or social gatherings. When Hausa migrants brought this practice to Lagos, they maintained the timing, even as the bustling city transformed the business. As Mohammed Garba, a “mai suya” (suya seller) in Surulere, explains, “Suya is an evening thing in our culture. The way we prepare it, the way people eat it, it’s not fast food. People want to take their time.”
Climate also plays a significant role. Lagos’s intense daytime heat makes it impractical for vendors to operate over hot charcoal. Most prepare the meat in the afternoon but wait for cooler evening temperatures before setting up their grills. Ismaila Bala, a long-time suya seller in Ikeja, notes, “You can’t stand over hot charcoal at 1 p.m. under this sun. Besides, people are not buying at that time. They’re at work or in traffic.” Indeed, Lagosians’ busy daytime schedules and congested commutes mean that the evening is when they finally slow down and seek relaxation and a meal.
Demand After Dusk and the Lagos Nightlife Integration
For many Lagos residents, suya is not just sustenance; it’s a well-deserved reward after a demanding day. It has become an unofficial evening meal, often shared with friends or family. Chiamaka Ogbonna, a UNILAG student, captures this sentiment: “I don’t even think of suya until it’s night. It’s like a weekend thing or something you grab when hanging out. It’s not lunch food.” This feeling is widespread across the city, making suya synonymous with social bonding and end-of-day comfort. Charles Effiong, a father of three, even considers it a family tradition passed down through generations.
Beyond routine, suya is intricately woven into Lagos’s vibrant nightlife, often found near bars, lounges, and roadside stalls. The combination of suya and drinks is particularly popular, leading many mai suyas to strategically position their stands near drinking spots. “Suya and beer na brothers,” quips Mohammed Garba, highlighting the symbiotic relationship.
The Street Food Experience and an Unchanging Ritual
The ambiance surrounding suya sales is as crucial as the delicacy itself. The glow of streetlights, distant music, and the smoky spectacle of roasting meat all contribute to the unique “suya experience.” It’s a social occasion where customers often wait, chat, and even debate whose suya is best. Frederick Ameh, an official who frequents a popular Ojuelegba suya joint, emphasizes, “You enjoy suya more when you’re standing by the fire, watching the man turn the sticks and slice the meat with that long knife. That whole setup—you can’t replicate it at 2 p.m.” This relaxed, open-air street energy, absent during the hurried daytime, is what many believe makes suya truly special. While some restaurants offer gourmet suya during lunch, many Lagosians find these versions inauthentic, preferring the traditional street-side experience.
Despite the evolution of the food landscape and the rise of online delivery services, the original suya—sold under a dim bulb on a Lagos street after dark—continues to flourish. It remains affordable, widely accessible, and deeply embedded in both the culture and daily life of the city. As Mohammed Garba firmly puts it, “Even if you open suya shop by day, people no go come. They know say suya na night food.”
As dusk falls and grills ignite across Lagos, the tradition endures. Flames dance, spices sizzle, and people gather—not just for a meal, but for a familiar, comforting, and uniquely Lagosian experience. Suya, it seems, isn’t just sold at night; it inherently belongs to the night, dispelling any unfounded rumors about its origins or ingredients.
The Guardian
