GIFTS

Continuing my story about Ama’s life in rural Ghana. This time, it is because I am missing the food. The story captures an image that I see when I travel to the outskirts of Ghana, we call our home town. This is a slice of Ama’s life.

The meal would never be complete without the accompanying carb fix.

Who was going to help Ama with the fufu though? The whole fufu preparation experience is such a palava. There was no one at home to help at the time, so Ama walked to the neighboring house to call one of the young men lazing about. He smiled knowing it was his lucky day. There was no way he would help without being rewarded with a taste of the fufu and the bubbling palm nut soup.

The mortar and pestle were washed, the cassava and green plantain boiled, a winning combo. Ama sat ready to turn the mash as the young lad pounded in rhythm. This is such a tiring part of the preparation but as they say, “the end justifies the means”. Ama’s meal was to feed the house hold so the fufu preparation took a bit of time.

The black pots were set out ready to receive the beautifully rounded mash looking balls. The children would eat from one pot and the adults their individual pots. Ama had to be calculated with the sharing as there wasn’t enough meat to go round. So with the children sharing they could also share the meat. On finishing, young lad had his share and hid behind Ama’s house to finish it before walking back home. He knew there would be intruders if he ventured home with his portion, so he made the right decision.

It was meal time! Ama called her mother, the children and the other members of the household… like they say, “Chop time no friend”.