Breaking: How a 56-Year-Old Bar Owner Turned Goat Theft into a Pepper Soup Business — Until He Was Caugh
Ipetu-Ijesa is not the kind of town where you expect to find crime stories that make national headlines. Known for its quiet streets, bustling evening beer joints, and hardworking residents, the community in Osun State rarely sees the kind of scandal that would trend on Nigerian social media.
But that calm was broken this week when news broke that Ayo Akinpelu, a 56-year-old beer parlour operator, had been arrested by the Osun State Amotekun Corps for allegedly stealing goats and using them to prepare pepper soup at his beer parlour in neighboring Ondo State.
The case, which at first seemed almost comical, has since snowballed into a major talking point about rural security, food safety, and the desperate measures some small business owners take to stay afloat in a struggling economy.
According to a statement released by the Amotekun spokesperson, Yusuf Idowu, the arrest happened on Wednesday evening after vigilant residents noticed suspicious movement near a farmstead.
Residents said they saw Akinpelu’s Lexus SUV parked near a cluster of goat pens. “He was pretending to be on a phone call, but we have seen him around before,” said one resident who requested anonymity. “We decided to wait and watch him.”
When he eventually loaded something into the back of the SUV, residents approached and demanded to see what was inside. What they found shocked them — a live goat, bound and hidden under a piece of tarpaulin.
“He didn’t even struggle when we confronted him,” another witness said. “He just begged us not to disgrace him.”
The residents immediately called Amotekun operatives, who arrived quickly and took him into custody.
Under interrogation, Akinpelu reportedly confessed without much resistance.
“I have been doing this for more than seven years,” he allegedly told investigators. “I use the goats to prepare pepper soup for my customers. Goat meat is expensive, and I could not afford to keep buying it from the market.”
He further explained his method: he would lure goats with salt, a trick that made them easier to catch. Once the goats came close, he would tie their legs, throw them into his car, and drive off — sometimes covering long distances from Osun to Ondo just to stock his beer parlour kitchen.
To understand why someone might risk arrest to get free goats, you have to understand the economics of the beer parlour business in South-West Nigeria.
Goat meat pepper soup is not just a dish — it is the crown jewel of bar menus across the region. Known locally as ngwo-ngwo or asun, it is a spicy delicacy believed to have medicinal properties, from curing hangovers to boosting male virility.
“People don’t just come to a beer parlour to drink,” says food entrepreneur and hospitality consultant Bolaji Akinlolu. “They come for the atmosphere — and for the pepper soup. If your pepper soup is good, you will have loyal customers who keep coming back.”
But goat meat prices have skyrocketed in recent years. A single medium-sized goat can now cost between ₦35,000 and ₦45,000 in many southwestern markets. For small business owners operating on tight margins, that can be crippling.
In Ondo town, where Akinpelu operates his beer parlour, some residents say they had long suspected something unusual.
“His pepper soup was the cheapest in town,” one regular customer admitted. “Other places sold a plate for ₦3,500, but Baba Ayo sold his for ₦2,000 — and the portions were big. We used to joke that maybe he had a private farm.”
Another neighbor said Akinpelu was known to travel frequently and would return with sacks of meat. “He told us he had relatives who gave him goats as gifts,” she said. “We had no idea he was stealing them.”
The arrest also highlights the growing influence of the Amotekun Corps, a regional security outfit created to combat rising insecurity in Nigeria’s South-West.
Corps Commander Isaac Omoyele praised the swift action of Ipetu-Ijesa residents, saying it shows how community vigilance can deter rural crime.
“Our operatives rely on timely information from residents,” Omoyele said. “Livestock theft is a serious economic crime. For many rural families, goats are their savings. Losing them means losing money for school fees or hospital bills.”
He confirmed that Akinpelu will be charged to court once investigations are complete.
Livestock theft is not new in Nigeria. Farmers across Osun, Ekiti, Ondo, and Oyo states have complained of syndicates that steal goats, rams, and cows for resale or slaughter.
In 2024 alone, Osun State’s Ministry of Agriculture recorded over 1,200 cases of reported goat theft. Many cases go unreported, as victims often lack the means to pursue justice.
Security analyst Dr. Tayo Olumide says this trend has serious economic consequences:
“A rural household can lose half its annual income if two or three goats are stolen,” he said. “It is a silent but devastating form of rural poverty.”
Beyond the theft itself, Akinpelu’s case raises concerns about food safety and ethics.
Veterinarian Dr. Funke Oke notes that stolen goats may not have been inspected for diseases before slaughter, posing potential health risks to consumers.
“You don’t know if those animals were sick, underweight, or treated with antibiotics,” she warned. “Serving unregulated meat could spread zoonotic diseases.”
Public health experts are now calling for tighter monitoring of informal food businesses and mandatory sourcing records for meat served in public eateries.
Why would a 56-year-old man, a respected member of his community, risk everything for goats?
Criminologist Dr. Henry Fashanu says cases like this often involve what he calls “necessity entrepreneurs” — small business owners who slide into crime because they see it as the only way to survive.
“They justify it by telling themselves that they are not hurting anyone — after all, it is just an animal,” Fashanu explained. “But what begins as survival soon becomes a habit and a business model.”
As expected, the story has gone viral online, sparking a mix of humor and outrage.
Some users joked that Nigerians had been “unknowingly eating stolen property” and called for a “pepper soup amnesty.” Others expressed sympathy for Akinpelu, blaming economic hardship.
“If government provided cheaper meat or subsidized farming, Baba would not need to steal goats,” wrote one commenter on Facebook.
“Next time you are eating pepper soup, ask for a receipt of origin!” another quipped on X.
Legal experts say Akinpelu could face charges including theft, trespass, and receiving stolen property (in this case, slaughtering stolen goats).
If convicted, he may face several years in prison or be ordered to pay restitution to affected farmers.
Some human rights groups are calling for a restorative justice approach, suggesting that Akinpelu should work for the victims or compensate them instead of serving a long jail term.
This case highlights three pressing issues in Nigeria:
- Food Inflation: Skyrocketing prices are pushing small business owners toward desperate measures.
- Rural Security: Communities need stronger support to prevent theft and protect livelihoods.
- Public Health Oversight: The informal food sector needs better regulation to ensure meat safety.
What started as a bizarre headline — “Man Steals Goats to Make Pepper Soup” — has become a window into Nigeria’s rural economy, its culinary culture, and the survival strategies of its struggling entrepreneurs.
As Akinpelu awaits trial, the case serves as both a warning and a call to action: rural theft is not just a matter of law and order, but of economic policy, social welfare, and public health.
For now, many residents of Ondo town say they will think twice before ordering their next bowl of goat meat pepper soup — at least until they are sure the meat came from a legitimate source.