e

eels over tracks echoed softly in the background, like a heartbeat beneath memory. He sat by the window, head lean

shadows that danced across the rooftops and stirred memories long tucked away-Eid mornings in crisp new clothes, his mother's cooking fillin

old them he

over the past few weeks, nestled between early mornings on the farm and qu

parcel tied with string, the edges slightly frayed from the journey. He stepped off the platform, the dusty scent of Ede wrapping around him like a fami

from the market with baskets on their heads, children kicked a worn football down a side stree

thrill of a surprise well planned. A boy again, but a man

gate, took a breath

. His mother. Wrapping a faded Ankara sc

Before he could even respond, she pulled him into a tight embrace, h

ulder. The scent of fried oil and camphor balm fille

half-scolding. "What's this surprise, eh? Couldn't ev

lted into a wide grin. He embraced Femi with a firm pat on the b

d, humbled by the fami

all. The same ceiling fan rotated lazily above the prayer rug. His younger cousi

aromatic. A silk scarf in deep emerald for his mother. A leather-bound Quran

nd gbegiri with a touch of groundnut, her eyes watching him as if t

er in the open-air veranda. Both men were wrapped in light shawls as the evening breeze carried the scent of cookin

ding a warm cup of tea. "You came back not ju

ratitude. "Alhamdulillah, Baba. It's a

f soil during dry spells. Femi spoke with quiet conviction about Ilẹ̀ Ayọ̀, the lan

, the conver

bout settling down?

tly, dodging with

ur own? These things matter, Femi. The land needs more

kin. He thought of her then. Of Suraiyah. Her voice, low and thoughtful. Her hands

t it sometimes,"

a thoughtful n

ere so

, but said

there is, bring her next Eid. Let us meet

d. "Insha'A

lay on his back staring at the ceiling. The same old fan creaked above him. Books

one, stared at her

aiy

umb ho

he

ly joy and blessings. I hope someday I get to ce

ssage for a long mo

es pa

e scree

. I'm actually in my hometown too, spending Eid wit

is lips. He could a

mily-oriented. That m

It's the little things t

continued. Easy.

th his father, the smell of sandalwood clinging to his new clothes. She told him about her mother's famous kunu and how the whole neighbou

. Shared silences th

sage that nig

ay, Femi. It felt rand

t twice.

nk it was r

he closed his eyes. There was still distance. Still uncertai

t like somethin