Uzypaws...

This photo wasn’t planned, by the way. Her kitchen hasn’t always been this colour. My dad had it recently painted to liven up her space. That’s all; he left everything else as is. This was my first time being in that room in over 15 years. I spent many occasions seated on the steps across from this kitchen, cracking aki (a kind of nut) with my sister (the rock we used was still there) and spinning makeshift dreidels finessed out of pen caps and indulging the smell of burning firewood fill the air mixed with her signature anyara soup. The floor, even now, was littered with empty, dusty cans of Tomapep. The wooden stool she sat on overlooking the pile of firewood with which she cooked with, still in its place. Till today, I relish the smell of firewood. Reminds me of my grandmothers.

🐞