Ahmad Adedimeji Amobi
My mother knew I loved rearing livestock, chickens especially. When I was young, she bought a goat for me. Three days after we brought it home, the animal died. "Your nature might not align with the goat," she said. "Does that mean I can't rear any livestock?" Sadness encroached. "Don't worry. Let's try a hen."
Iwo smells of dust and rusty air, clouding up my mind and drowning my memory. The first thing my mother welcomes me with is water. She is an ardent devotee of the culture that believes water is the most glorious form of courtesy that can be paid to a visitor. But I always find it hard to drink.