'Ajo o dabi Ile.' We hear this but don't fully understand until we experience it.
Motunde and I have been sending 9ja meals back and forth to each other. I got lucky on Sunday and got blessed with a bowl of 'Naija' jollof rice.
'What a wawu.Ara mi gbo.' No jokes man. I almost wanted to eat it with my bare hands but something whispered
'Chill'
We were not even going home yet the way my 'long throat' was set up... I could hardly wait. It was difficult to reason clearly when a meal I had craved for long was sitting on my lap. The aroma engulfed me calling my name enticingly.
No jokes but at this point my birthright, my destiny no matter. When you hear Yorubas say 'Ona ofun ona orun', just concur.
We stop at sister-in-law's. She stretches her hand for a hug but I ignore that and head to her kitchen for a spoon.
'Na my problem be that. The very thing to je mi lo gun at the moment.'
In her mind, she will blame it on coro and social distancing but those two things didn't occur to me. I head out and she wonders why I'm not waiting.
"Nah!" I explain, "We only stopped by to drop you stuff. We heading to get stuff at home Depot. The grass is outgrowing the house."
I jump down the stairs taking it 2 by 2 with this my one and a half legs. I'm past reasoning. Jollof is calling.
In the car, she is gisting with her brother. I can't hear not because they were not audible. I'm digging away but after the fourth spoon, something, more like Mama's prayers whispered
"O je rora. Food is the weapon. You can't finish that bowl. It will wreak havoc on your blood sugar."
Story By: Olayinka Royalty
Motunde and I have been sending 9ja meals back and forth to each other. I got lucky on Sunday and got blessed with a bowl of 'Naija' jollof rice.
'What a wawu.Ara mi gbo.' No jokes man. I almost wanted to eat it with my bare hands but something whispered
'Chill'
We were not even going home yet the way my 'long throat' was set up... I could hardly wait. It was difficult to reason clearly when a meal I had craved for long was sitting on my lap. The aroma engulfed me calling my name enticingly.
No jokes but at this point my birthright, my destiny no matter. When you hear Yorubas say 'Ona ofun ona orun', just concur.
We stop at sister-in-law's. She stretches her hand for a hug but I ignore that and head to her kitchen for a spoon.
'Na my problem be that. The very thing to je mi lo gun at the moment.'
In her mind, she will blame it on coro and social distancing but those two things didn't occur to me. I head out and she wonders why I'm not waiting.
"Nah!" I explain, "We only stopped by to drop you stuff. We heading to get stuff at home Depot. The grass is outgrowing the house."
I jump down the stairs taking it 2 by 2 with this my one and a half legs. I'm past reasoning. Jollof is calling.
In the car, she is gisting with her brother. I can't hear not because they were not audible. I'm digging away but after the fourth spoon, something, more like Mama's prayers whispered
"O je rora. Food is the weapon. You can't finish that bowl. It will wreak havoc on your blood sugar."
Story By: Olayinka Royalty
Lol. I can understand how that sweet Jollof can be calling your name. This is beautiful. Keep it up
ReplyDeleteThe power of a correct pot of naija jollof..Choi..you just made me hungry😄🏃🏽♀️🏃🏽♀️
ReplyDelete