Mummy

When I was younger, I secretly believed my mother could fly. To be honest, those heels could delude anyone into believing they could - add a full flowing boubou and you had a superman woman right there, complete with boots and a cape! She certainly was not ultra light – all us kids, and her aversion to wastage in any and every form meant she was always only just under a healthy weight. For all my reading of Essential Biology I should have known that real mothers could not fly; only fairy god mothers could - but the anecdotal evidence seemed to suggest that mine did, for the sheer number of times she caught me pants down – no pun intended. ...

Each morning, my nostrils awake to redolent scents, wafting outward from the Greggs eatery next to my house. Sadly, this particular branch is close enough to allow some of the scents find their way in, but just far enough to befuddle my sense of smell in such a way that I cannot precisely tell which is which. Some days I can almost bet my sweet life that they are arranging hot piping amala there. At other times, I am positive I have heard inhaled the smell of akara, of moi moi and even party jollof rice! Problem though is there is no way any of these can smell like the above; unless there is a Naija chic surreptitiously boiling her own things on the side.. ...