There’s something uniquely special about weekends spent at home in Akwanga, surrounded by family, friends, and neighbors who feel like family. This past Saturday was one such day—a day that started early and ended with the warmth of accomplishment and the smiles of those I cherish.
As the sun rose over the hills of Akwanga, casting a golden glow on our backyard, the day began with a shared sense of purpose. Today, we were going to make palm oil—an age-old tradition that binds us to our roots, and there was a buzz of excitement in the air.
The process had already started the day before, with the palm fruits being machine-ground at a neighbor’s house. But today, the real work began at our home. The backyard was our stage, and each of us had a role to play in this communal adventure.
It was still early when Ummah, our ever-reliable neighbor, arrived with bundles of firewood, stacking them neatly near the big, blackened pots that would soon be bubbling with palm oil. Goodness, ever eager and strong, was already bringing out the large pots, each one clanging as she placed them on the ground.
Meanwhile, my dear nieces, Christabel and Miracle, were hard at work washing the pots and fetching water from the borehole. The two of them worked in harmony, laughter punctuating the sound of splashing water as they filled the pots to the brim. Their spirits were infectious, and soon, everyone was caught up in the joy of the task at hand.
Miracle and Goodness
As the preparations continued, I set to work on the fire. There’s a certain satisfaction in striking a match and watching the flames catch, knowing that this simple act will bring about something so essential and nourishing. With the fire crackling and the pots in place, we began the process of extracting the oil, a task that requires patience, strength, and a bit of know-how passed down through generations.
Me and Christabel
Each of us was involved in one way or another. Walid and Usman, two of our younger neighbors, were sent to the market to buy yams—a perfect accompaniment to our freshly made palm oil. They returned with a bundle of yams, their faces lit up with the pride of their contribution.
Yayooo, affectionately known as Biggy, was a steady presence, always ready to lend a hand or crack a joke to keep the mood light. Tomoh and Mummyo, our other neighbors, hovered nearby, watching the process unfold with curiosity and excitement. There was a palpable sense of community, everyone coming together for a shared purpose, whether they were actively participating or simply enjoying the spectacle.
As the day wore on, the pots bubbled and the rich, red oil began to emerge. There’s a kind of magic in watching something as humble as a fruit transform into a golden liquid that will nourish us in the days to come.
Me and Christabel while Goodness watch in awe.
With the oil nearly ready, Usman and Yayooo set about roasting the yams. The smell of roasting yams mingled with the rich scent of palm oil, filling the air with the promise of a simple, yet deeply satisfying meal. The yams, once golden and crisp, were sliced and drizzled with the fresh palm oil, a true blessing for the day’s efforts.
Finally, after hours of work and camaraderie, we had a full 15 liters of palm oil—a bountiful result that filled us all with pride. But the real reward was in the sharing. Each of us took a portion of the oil home as a commission for our efforts, a tangible reminder of the day’s work and the bonds we had strengthened.
Myself, Mummyo and Tomoh
Me and my Miracle
As the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard, we all took a moment to appreciate what we had accomplished. It wasn’t just about the palm oil, though that in itself was a triumph. It was about the laughter, the teamwork, and the simple joy of being together.
This weekend wasn’t just a routine task; it was a celebration of community, of family, and of the simple pleasures that life in Akwanga offers. As I watched everyone head home with their share of the oil and a smile on their faces, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for days like this. We had made something beautiful together, and in doing so, we had made memories that would last far longer than the oil in those bottles.
Gracias!
All pictures are mine and taking from my phone. Tecno spark 7. Thank you all.