egusi soup trails

pepper soup stories

pounded yam, ingra fish

theories. parents chatter nigeria

in the background. your

favourite was the mango

salted avocado

fleshy yellow, green.

roasted peanuts

cracked from shells

charcoaled suya sticks

laden with chilli

akara balls and

sugary sweet puff-puff.

you wonder if you spoke

two languages

pidgin-english flowing

fluently from your lips

just as easily as the ‘real’ thing

did.

tongue sprinkled

with flavours of

lost language.

one day the driver couldn’t

get you to school

roads blocked

as fighting broke

out. a man runs past

gunshot wound.

you drew a picture of it in

class. compound kids

spitting on your

head as they saw you

and your sister

over the walls

in the oyibo

school. chasing

baby chickens in

the yard of the

compound that is how

you got that scar

on your heel cutting

your foot on the

corrugated iron. fireflies

decorating night walks

to visit uncles and friends

drinking beer.

‘here try this one,

it’s malt-flavoured.’ some

kids caught jars of

the insects. long days

of wandering

coming home

when dusk dawned

would life have been better,

if you stayed here?

knew what it felt like

to grow up with your people?
she was five,

but already knew what love

was not.