When Nigerian chef and Guinness World Record holder Hilda Baci attempted to cook the largest pot of Jollof rice in Lagos, it wasn’t just about food.
It was about culture, pride, and putting Nigeria in global headlines for something positive.
The sheer scale of the event, a six-metre steel cauldron filled with 200 bags of rice, tons of tomatoes, onions, and gallons of oil, was enough to capture the nation’s imagination. Thousands gathered, cheering her on as she stirred history into the pot.
But while the atmosphere at the venue was electric, the online reaction told a different story. Some Nigerians, especially those who see themselves as the country’s conscience on social media, dismissed the event as frivolous.
They argued that citizens had no business celebrating a food record in a nation battling insecurity, inflation, and unemployment. To them, the Jollof-a-thon was nothing more than misplaced priorities.
The online critics’ argument
Scrolling through X (formerly Twitter) and Facebook, it wasn’t hard to find comments mocking the spectacle.
Some accused those in attendance of “dancing while the country burns,” and others suggested the celebration proved Nigerians were unserious about their future.
The criticism reflects a broader trend: in times of crisis, cultural or entertainment events are often attacked as distractions.
For many of these critics, the symbolism of cooking such a massive pot of food in a country where millions go hungry was enough to spark outrage.
The hypocrisy of wokeness
And yet, the outrage reveals a certain hypocrisy. Around the world, countries facing economic or political turmoil continue to celebrate cultural traditions and host extravagant events.
In the United States, for example, the annual Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest is broadcast nationally on July 4th, even in years of recession, mass shootings, or political unrest.
Japan still stages elaborate noodle and sushi festivals during economic slowdowns. In the UK, the quirky cheese-rolling festival in Gloucestershire continues despite the country’s ongoing cost-of-living crisis.
In none of these cases are citizens accused of being unserious for embracing culture.
On the contrary, such events are understood as part of national life, a blend of tradition, entertainment, and identity. Why, then, are Nigerians constantly guilt-tripped for celebrating culture amid hardship?
Why events like this matter
Events like Hilda’s Jollof-a-thon are more than spectacles. They serve multiple purposes:
National pride: Jollof rice is one of West Africa’s most iconic dishes, and Nigeria has long championed itself as the home of the best version. Attempting a Guinness World Record amplified that pride globally.
Tourism, economy: The event attracted international media attention, boosted hotel bookings, and created income for vendors and small businesses around the venue.
Psychological relief: In a country often defined by bad news, moments of joy and celebration act as therapy. They remind people that hardship does not erase culture or pride.
As cultural analyst Dr. Tade Ajiboye of the University of Lagos puts it when contacted by AFRIPOST for an input: “Cultural celebrations like this are not an escape from reality, they are a response to it.
“When people gather to celebrate food, music, or heritage during hard times, it shows resilience. It’s a way of saying: we refuse to let hardship define us entirely”, he said.
The real problem lies elsewhere
It is easy to scapegoat events like the Jollof-a-thon as proof of national unseriousness. But such criticism misses the real issue: governance.
Nigeria’s insecurity, inflation, and leadership failures are not caused by citizens who attend cultural events.
They are the direct result of weak policies, corruption, and poor political will. If anything, Nigerians have proven to be some of the most resilient people in the world, finding joy even in the midst of despair.
To argue that citizens should forgo cultural expression until every national problem is solved is unrealistic, and frankly, unfair. By that logic, Nigerians would never have a reason to celebrate anything at all.
Resilience as resistance
Hilda Baci’s Jollof-a-thon should not be seen as a distraction from Nigeria’s challenges but as proof of the country’s resilience.
Even in crisis, Nigerians can still tell their stories, showcase their creativity, and put their culture on a global stage.
An attendee at the event summed it up best for AFRIPOST, “We know Nigeria is hard, but we came here to celebrate something that makes us proud. It doesn’t mean we don’t care about the issues, it just means we’re human.”
This is the balance the critics miss. Nigerians can demand accountability from their leaders while also celebrating joy.
They can protest against insecurity on Monday and attend a Guinness World Record attempt on Saturday. One does not invalidate the other.
In conclusion, Hilda Baci’s Jollof-a-thon was not a sign of unseriousness. It was a celebration of creativity, identity, and hope.
It was a reminder that culture can thrive even when politics fails. To reduce it to a symbol of national irresponsibility is to misunderstand the role of joy in survival.
The so-called woke Nigerians who rushed to criticise should reflect on their hypocrisy.
The world does not stop celebrating because problems exist. Neither should Nigeria.
If anything, the Jollof-a-thon shows that amid hardship, Nigerians still find reasons to come together, to laugh, and to be proud. And that, in itself, is an achievement worth celebrating.