Cassava is one of the most important crops where I come from, and growing up, I always saw it as more than just a plant—it was a lifeline. One of the most common products we make from cassava is garri, and over the years, I’ve come to understand and appreciate the hard work that goes into turning that rough root into the dry, crunchy granules we enjoy as eba or soak in water.
The journey of cassava to garri starts right from the farm. First, we harvest the cassava roots, usually after about 8 to 12 months of planting. It’s a tiring job, digging into the earth to pull out the thick, long roots, but there’s something satisfying about seeing a good yield. Once harvested, we wash the cassava thoroughly to remove all the dirt. This step is very important because any impurities can affect the taste and safety of the final product.
After washing, we peel off the brown outer skin and the thin white layer underneath, leaving just the white, starchy part of the root. Then comes the grating. This used to be done by hand with a grater, but these days, we mostly use mechanical graters to make the work faster and easier. The grated cassava turns into a fine, wet mash that’s still very moist and needs to be fermented and dewatered.
Next, we pack the grated cassava mash into sacks or bags and place them under heavy weights or in a press machine. This is to remove as much liquid as possible. We usually leave it like that for two to three days to ferment, depending on the weather. During this time, the sour taste that garri is known for begins to develop. Some people prefer it sour, others not so much, so the fermentation time can vary.
Once it’s fermented and dewatered, the next step is to sift or sieve the mash to break it into smaller, uniform particles. This makes it easier to fry and gives the garri its smooth texture. Frying is done in a wide, shallow pan over a wood fire. This part takes skill, because you have to stir constantly with a flat wooden paddle to prevent the garri from burning or clumping. Slowly, as the water evaporates, the mash becomes dry and grainy—that’s when you know garri is forming.
After frying, we spread the garri out to cool, and then we store it in dry containers or sacks to keep it fresh. At this point, it’s ready to eat or sell. We use garri in so many ways—it can be soaked with water, sugar, groundnuts, and milk for a quick snack, or turned into eba with hot water and eaten with soup
From start to finish, making garri is labor-intensive, but it’s a tradition I’m proud of. Every stage, from harvesting to frying, is part of our culture and survival. Watching cassava go through that full transformation reminds me how something so simple can become something essential with the right care and effort.