Legs shook and bodies moved in unruly rhythms as they sang and clapped in unison,
Paw paw is a type of fruit!
sweet like sugar,
yellow like fanta,
paw paw is a type of fruit!
I am from the smell of wet leaves, freshly cut oranges,
The sweet smell of agbalumo that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth,
The lingering scent of watered plants, freshly made mud from rain left
on the front porch,
And the paroxysm of laughter from children as they jump from couch to couch.
I stand in rivers of chickens and in the large palms of the ocean,
I am from the smell of aged clothes and black tea—
Coffee, and biscuits.
I am from the “goal!” made by my dad’s companions, dog fur from tolu’s house
and scoldings from adults as we draw on the house walls.
I am from a dog named Simba,
I am from weekend doses of Phil Collins and Celine Dion.
I am squeezed in a crowded room filled with books that lie comfortable in dusty shelves
with a large window that hugs the room to warmth as my uncle shares
himself some tea.
Jan 27
Jan 27, 2026 at 9:01 PM UTC
The last time my grandma visited was when I was around the age of 8
Her first name was Caroline...her last, Obasa
‘uhh - bah - sah’
Meaning King, resembling royalty, diligence
and resilience.
She visits, but not a place she is from.
Grandma was dark skinned and had large rings of wrinkles
along her face
She wore symbolised designs on her head
Ones our ancestors wear.
It came in stars and patterns,
It came in stories and care,
You could just see how tendered and loved
Almost nowadays— rare.
She walked in slow, thoughtful steps.
she lived in quiet answers and silent prayers.
she had scaly skin, a raspy voice, and strict fingers.
She drank Ewuro daily
An almost unaccustomed routine.
Dancing hands slam against a talking drum,
Beads danced and legs shook as the drums
Began to sing.
Grandma says her name,
‘Uh - bah - sah’
She danced and shook her hips—in foreign,
Undefeated movements.
A smile is attracted and Joy is written.
This is where she is from.
Jan 27
Jan 27, 2026 at 2:18 AM UTC