The season draws near
After church service, I felt a dryness that could only mean one thing; harmattan was on its way. The air was different, carrying that familiar, dusty smell. It reminded me of Christmas, a time I always look forward to. But as much as I love the holiday vibe it brings, I don’t exactly enjoy walking around during harmattan season. The mix of harsh sun and dry, cold wind is always a struggle.
When I got home, the first thing I did was take off the heavy senator attire I’d been wearing all day. I’d been roasting in it since morning, and the relief I felt was almost instant. My stomach was growling, and I could barely sit still. Just as I was thinking about what to eat, I remembered I’d missed a call from my friend who lives in the next compound. Figured I’d kill two birds with one stone – see her and maybe find something to eat.
So, I strolled over, hoping she was still around. As I walked into her place, my eyes lit up; she’d just finished making noodles with fried eggs! My timing couldn’t have been better. I handed her some apples I’d picked up on my way home, a small “thank you” for what I was about to devour. She seemed happy to see me too, and before I knew it, I was seated, ready to dig in.
To be honest, noodles aren’t my favorite. I eat them when I have no other option, but this time, they felt like a blessing. There’s something about eating food that someone else prepared for you, it always tastes better. Maybe it’s the love they put into it or just the comfort of having company. Either way, I wasn’t complaining.
We chatted and laughed as I ate, and even though the noodles didn’t really fill me up, I felt satisfied. It wasn’t about the food itself; it was about the warmth of being with a friend who cared. The hunger in my belly was somehow replaced by the happiness I felt from our little meal together.
By the time I headed back home, the dry harmattan air didn’t seem as harsh. I felt lighter, happier, and ready to settle in for the evening.
When I got home, the first thing I did was take off the heavy senator attire I’d been wearing all day. I’d been roasting in it since morning, and the relief I felt was almost instant. My stomach was growling, and I could barely sit still. Just as I was thinking about what to eat, I remembered I’d missed a call from my friend who lives in the next compound. Figured I’d kill two birds with one stone – see her and maybe find something to eat.
So, I strolled over, hoping she was still around. As I walked into her place, my eyes lit up; she’d just finished making noodles with fried eggs! My timing couldn’t have been better. I handed her some apples I’d picked up on my way home, a small “thank you” for what I was about to devour. She seemed happy to see me too, and before I knew it, I was seated, ready to dig in.
To be honest, noodles aren’t my favorite. I eat them when I have no other option, but this time, they felt like a blessing. There’s something about eating food that someone else prepared for you, it always tastes better. Maybe it’s the love they put into it or just the comfort of having company. Either way, I wasn’t complaining.
We chatted and laughed as I ate, and even though the noodles didn’t really fill me up, I felt satisfied. It wasn’t about the food itself; it was about the warmth of being with a friend who cared. The hunger in my belly was somehow replaced by the happiness I felt from our little meal together.
By the time I headed back home, the dry harmattan air didn’t seem as harsh. I felt lighter, happier, and ready to settle in for the evening.
