This anthology includes the experiences of a West African living in a Western country, including influence from Arabic and Islamic culture.
Please note that each part has a different speaker and is thus not a continuation of the prior unless stated...
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I was going through my camera roll Scrolling through memories from last Ramadan In search of inspiration amidst memories worth repeating
I've been looking forward to revisiting the footage since the moment I captured it last year So I expertly made sure the food looked presentable
I found an image of a recipe Or, a few ingredients splayed out on the kitchen counter My mother's hand blurry in the corner of the frame Already grabbing an onion, ready to peel
There were tears in my eyes, I recall As I peeled my own But the recipe was for something sweet That would dry your tears And make you warm and satisfyingly full
A doughnut à la manière de maman, if you will
When I kept scrolling, I found a cup of black tea The cup was so big, it was the size of a bowl I wondered why I would hold my phone so close to it When it could drown before I quenched my thirst I pressed play to suppress my nonsensical thoughts
I was pouring milk into the darkness Creating creamy clouds rearranging themselves As they morphed into waves And created a sea of even calm
I watched it again, fascinated by the process And switched on the sound Wondering what conversation could accompany such a sight To see what we chatted about after a long and exhausting day Of starving ourselves for something we strongly believe in
When I listened to the audio I heard my mother and sister discuss donations How we would handle our finances Since we've always been the kind of people who had to think about those things They continued on Naming family members back home who were in dire need Despite having helped them recently But it was not enough When will it ever be enough?
How much milk do I have to pour into my tea to dull the bitter taste but not overshadow its essence?
As I recalled those memories I could taste onion on my lips Despite the thick coat of sugar I doused it in
