What started as a small kitchen serving lecturers and students grew into a campus institution — built on flavour, generosity, and a kind of fire you can't fake.

























Long before menus and QR codes, My Kitchen was a folding table outside the Senior Staff Club. One pot of jollof. One pepper sauce. One unmistakable taste.
Students became alumni. Alumni came back with their families. Visitors looked for us off-campus. We took a pause to rebuild — same hands, sharper kitchen, online ordering — and now we're back.
Bold, smoky, unmistakably Naija. We never tone it down.
Plates that fill you up. No shrinkflation, ever.
Students, staff, families — everyone eats at My Kitchen.
The same plate, every visit. That's the promise.
