ASIMIN

Sweet Home

The joy I felt at the market lingered, and our journey back home was equally delightful. While Aunty Maria slept throughout, I remained wide awake, eager to absorb every detail of our surroundings. I wanted to etch the Lagos landscape into my memory.

Upon arriving at the village park, we disembarked to board a Bolekaja bound for our village, Aiyegunle. As we stepped off, Iya-elere's familiar face greeted us, radiating warmth.

"....Ehn ehn ehn, Okomi Omo-oba kaabo! Ehn! Omo mi ti gbon! Welcome, haa Maria, thank you. How was the market?' she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

"Daada ni Ma"(It's all good).Aunty Maria replied

As we walked home, Iya-elere peppered us with questions. 'Did you eat well? What did you eat after arriving? I was worried sick about your welfare.Did you have enough sleep?'

Her genuine happiness and concern were palpable. It was clear she had missed me dearly.

I gazed up at Iya-elere, and her eyes sparkled with joy. Although she wasn't my grandmother, but my great-grandmother, her love for me was unparalleled.

Decades ago,her only child, my grandmother, had given birth to my mother, but tragedy struck. Seventeen days after childbirth, she succumbed to complications, despite my grandfather's desperate efforts. A skilled herbalist, he had tried everything, but it wasn't meant to be.

Iya-elere's strength and resilience had been tested, losing her child and becoming a guardian to her infant granddaughter, my mother. Alongside my grandfather, she had nurtured and loved her, shaping the woman my mother would become.....

"Asii, your first big sale!" Aunty Maria exclaimed, handing me a crisp 350-naira note as we entered  our yard.
I  beamed with pride while collecting the naira notes.

"Thank you, ma'am," I replied, gratitude overflowing.

"Iya-elere, I'll be heading home now," Maria announced.

"Wait, I saved some moin-moin from this morning's batch," Iya-elere responded.
"Let me grab some garri to go with it."she disappear to the backyard

Iya-elere had shifted her business focus. Initially, she traded beans and kola nuts from the north to the south, earning her the nickname "Iya-elere" (bean seller). However, after her sisters had complain,even Mami-iya-kemi also advised her to slow down due to age, she diversified into selling moin-moin.

Now, she employed staff  from the neighboring village to prepare and sell moin-moin at the market.....

As they sat down to enjoy the snack, Iya-elere poured garri into Maria's cup.

"Maria, how's Asii doing in Lagos?" Iya-elere asked, handing her the cup.

"Well, ma'am, she's adjusting," Maria replied, sipping the garri. "But I'm glad she's back home now."

"I thank God," Iya-elere said, nodding. "I've missed my grandchild"

Maria chuckled. "You spoil her rotten, Iya-elere."

"Ah, she's my everything," Iya-elere replied, smiling.

Maria nodded sympathetically. "You've been through a lot, Iya-elere. But God has blessed you with a loving family."

Iya-elere's eyes sparkled with gratitude. "Indeed, Maria. Indeed."

.........

As I sat in Iya-elere's cozy courtyard, listening to her conversation and laughter with Maria, I couldn't help but think about my time in Lagos. The bustling streets, the endless noise, the smell of hawkers' wares – it was a world away from Aiyegunle's peaceful rhythms.

I remembered the initial excitement, the thrill of city life, but also the struggles. The long commutes, the crowded markets, the constant rush. It was exhausting.

But what struck me most was the people. So many faces, yet so few genuine connections. In Aiyegunle, everyone knew everyone. Stories were shared, laughter was contagious, and love was tangible.

My first day in Lagos had already taught me resilience, adaptability, and the value of hard work. But Aiyegunle reminded me of the beauty of simplicity, community, and love.

As Iya-elere handed me another wrap of moin-moin ,our eyes met and I knew I was home......