People often seek comfort and find it in the most mundane or most unusual places. Comfort can be found in the arms of a friend that smells like peaches and sea salt. It can also be found in each bite of crisply fried chicken thigh that has been glazed with ketchup. Wherever one finds comfort can serve as an anchor when things get a bit overwhelming.

    It was a cool evening in the first week of March 2018, the day before the wake, I didn’t go to school that day so I had spent all day indoors avoiding visitors and watching movies with Uncle Lamide. The house felt empty even though it was at its fullest in a long while and perhaps he sensed how stuffy I felt and decided to take me on an adventure.

  As we walked out of the compound, I took in my surroundings like it was the first time I had stepped my feet into that close. But, it was still the same old Unity Street with the unpainted cement wall that served as the poster board for election posters of the umbrella and broom people. In that moment, I wished there was a drastic change outside that matched the change that had occurred in my life.

  Time went by very quickly as we walked and talked, so when we reached the main bus stop, it was like we had been immersed in the vibrancy of the city. The sky was darker and the vehicles hooted as people made their way back from the activities of the day. The okada riders called out to whoever walked by them. Some women haggled with the pepper sellers and the mallams that sold round, juicy oranges. I felt at ease in that loud and busy junction because it was the first time since they told me the news that the silence was gone. 

  As we inched closer to the suya shack, the tasty smell of grilled meat made my mouth water. I watched in awe as the mallam artfully sliced the meat into small pieces and sprinkled red pepper flakes all over it. I smiled when he offered a complimentary taster and chewed on the piece feeling the flavor melt into my tongue, setting my mind on fire. Uncle Lamide said something about the suya in Port Harcourt but I didn’t quite catch it because I was so happy. In the dim yellow light of the suya shack, as the smoke billowed out from the makeshift grill and Uncle Lamide spoke about movies and suya, I felt happy.

  Later that evening as we walked back home, the sky completely dark and the warm glow of the streetlights and the lights from the shops and houses by the road lighting our way, my hands cradling bags of suya and oranges, I felt assured then that I would be okay. 

  The next day during the wake, all I could think about was suya and all the comfort it gave me.

Picture credit: https://pin.it/7KME3sogi