It almost sounds ordinary, casual, or even amusing whenever the word “food” is mentioned, yet the mere announcement of food or refreshment possesses a strange emotional power capable of changing the atmosphere of a place instantly. From childhood observations in boarding schools, ceremonies, meetings, and social gatherings, there has always been a special prestige attached to anything associated with feeding people. The famous “Item 7” in Nigerian campus culture was never treated like an ordinary event. The food prefect in boarding school often carried a social status beyond the official title itself, while membership of refreshment committees in ceremonies unconsciously elevated people into strategic and admired positions. Society may pretend to celebrate many things, but beneath the surface, food quietly governs emotions, attraction, comfort, and social approval.
Food appears to occupy both the territory of necessity and desire in human life. On one hand, it is survival; on the other, it is pleasure, satisfaction, and emotional fulfilment. Human beings do not merely eat to stay alive; they eat to feel good, celebrate, connect, and experience joy. This partly explains why occasions are remembered less by speeches and more by how guests were fed. A lavish gathering without food easily becomes a subject of criticism regardless of the social status of the host. One may gather the most influential personalities, host governors, billionaires, or dignitaries, but if guests leave hungry or poorly entertained with refreshments, the event risks public ridicule. In many societies, food silently becomes the measure of hospitality, generosity, competence, and emotional intelligence.
Sociologists and anthropologists have long acknowledged the symbolic power of food in human civilization. French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu argued that taste, food culture, and consumption patterns are social instruments through which identity, class, and prestige are expressed. Similarly, anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss viewed cooking as one of the defining features that separate civilization from mere biological existence. Food therefore is not simply about eating; it is communication, culture, affection, and power expressed in edible form.
Those who understand this hidden psychology of food often demonstrate remarkable emotional intelligence. Recently, I attended a minor meeting hosted by a politician. Before I could properly sit down, he immediately instructed his aides, “Please serve them food and drinks.” Internally, I smiled with admiration because the gesture reflected deep social understanding. It revealed a man who understood not only politics but also human nature. Many people wrongly assume that good conversations, jokes, music, or charisma alone are enough to sustain social warmth, forgetting that hunger can silence excitement while good food can soften hearts and create emotional openness.
Recently, I have reflected on love as an art rather than merely a natural feeling. In this sense, cooking skills become more than domestic labour; they become part of attraction, beauty, value, competence, and emotional appeal. The psychologist Robert Sternberg, through his Triangular Theory of Love, argued that successful love consists of intimacy, passion, and commitment, all of which require deliberate effort rather than accidental emotions. Love therefore is not sustained by feelings alone but by continuous actions capable of nourishing emotional connection. A delicious meal prepared with thoughtfulness can become one of those silent emotional languages through which affection is expressed more powerfully than words.
This understanding helps explain why multiple intelligences matter in attraction and relationships. Intelligence is not limited to academics alone. Harvard scholar Howard Gardner introduced the theory of Multiple Intelligences, emphasizing that human abilities manifest in diverse forms including interpersonal, creative, practical, and bodily intelligence. Cooking, home management, nutritional awareness, and domestic creativity therefore represent practical forms of intelligence capable of increasing personal worth, admiration, emotional attachment, and even romantic attraction. A person who creates comfort, warmth, satisfaction, and peace through creativity naturally becomes emotionally valuable to others.
It was this reflection that came to mind following the widely discussed sermon reportedly delivered by the popular pastor, Mike Bamiloye Adebayo advising young men not to marry women who cannot cook. The statement generated debates because it touched sensitive realities concerning gender expectations, modern relationships, and marriage ideals. On one side, the statement appears to support the idea that love involves competence, preparation, and practical value beyond physical attraction. It suggests that qualities influencing long-term comfort and companionship matter in choosing partners.
However, the statement also becomes problematic when interpreted rigidly or absolutistically. Human beings are imperfect creatures. If relationships are built entirely on flawless performance from both sides, then marriage risks becoming a marketplace of demands instead of a partnership of patience, sacrifice, growth, tolerance, and mutual support. The philosopher Erich Fromm in his work The Art of Loving argued that genuine love is less about finding a perfect person and more about developing the maturity, discipline, patience, and responsibility required to sustain relationships. In that sense, relationships thrive not because people are complete, but because they are willing to complement one another’s weaknesses.
Yet despite criticisms surrounding such sermons, they often derive strength from realism rather than idealism. Food remains central to daily survival and comfort, especially within homes. Across cultures, societies historically evolved a division of labour where men traditionally assumed the responsibility of external provision while women coordinated internal nourishment and domestic stability. Whether one agrees entirely with traditional gender roles or not, history undeniably linked women closely with the kitchen because feeding the family became synonymous with preserving life itself.
Perhaps this partly explains why people often say a woman makes a home while a building merely provides shelter. Whenever my wife announces that she will travel for a few days, the first concern from the children is usually, “What about our food?” We often reassure them that everything will be fine. Interestingly, such concern rarely arises whenever I announce my own travels. The children simply ask when I will return. Deep within the psychology of the home, the woman unconsciously occupies the position of the “food prefect,” the reassuring presence behind the certainty of daily nourishment and comfort.
The influence of food extends beyond hunger alone. Food creates emotional bonds, memories, attachment, and even a sense of irreplaceability between people. Every woman’s cooking gradually becomes a signature representing her creativity, ingenuity, exposure, intelligence, and identity. It contributes to self-esteem, emotional significance, and perceived value within relationships and families. A meal prepared with care often communicates affection in ways speeches cannot.
Beyond romance and affection, kitchen power increasingly represents economic intelligence and survival strategy. What may be called “home economics” often determines how families cope with hardship, inflation, and economic uncertainty. As economic pressures intensify globally, households require flexibility, creativity, and adaptability to survive comfortably. A woman equipped with kitchen skills, multitasking ability, and financial prudence often creates stronger coping mechanisms for the family. She can minimize waste, preserve food effectively, improvise alternatives, prepare school meals economically, and provide comfort even during difficult periods.
In many homes today, daily consumption of expensive proteins such as meat is no longer easily affordable. Families must devise alternatives through experience, nutritional understanding, creativity, and planning. The ability to produce satisfying and nutritious meals at minimal cost becomes an invisible economic strength. Development economists increasingly acknowledge that household management and nutritional planning significantly influence family resilience during economic downturns.
Research in nutrition and public health repeatedly confirms that human health is deeply connected to food quality, preservation, preparation, and eating habits. The popular expression “we are what we eat” is not mere poetry. Proper nutrition contributes not only to physical health but also cognitive development, emotional stability, productivity, and disease prevention. A healthy kitchen often reduces medical stress within families while increasing comfort, emotional balance, and overall wellbeing.
Yet the modern world is gradually reshaping traditional expectations. Economic realities now demand multitasking from both men and women. Increasingly, women are attracted to men who possess kitchen competence just as men appreciate women with professional and economic capabilities. Life has become too unpredictable to rigidly imprison responsibilities within old boundaries. In many homes, a single source of income from the man is no longer sufficient to sustain the family comfortably, compelling women to become financially active and economically supportive.
At the same time, there are situations where men must equally demonstrate flexibility within domestic responsibilities, especially when the wife faces heavier professional demands. A woman working in highly demanding environments such as banking or corporate institutions may require greater support from a husband with relatively flexible schedules. Although traditional structures may symbolically position the man as the provider and the woman as the manager of kitchen power, reality increasingly rewards families capable of adaptability rather than rigidity.
Finally, the strongest families are not necessarily those with the highest income, but those possessing the greatest capacity for adjustment, cooperation, resilience, and shared responsibility. In an era of economic uncertainty and social pressure, survival itself has become a collective art. And within that art, the kitchen remains not merely a place for cooking, but a silent centre of love, creativity, survival, emotional connection, and power.
Bagudu can be reached via bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com or 07034943575.
