How did Yaremi deal with her grief?
Yaremi’s kitchen became her kingdom, more appropriately; hideout. She did a lot of her work there. She would spend so much time washing, boiling, cleaning, arranging, and rearranging effortlessly. Her kitchen was large and Ajumobi helped her give it good shape. It could be described as a traditional yet state-of-the-art kitchen. It had everything; a grinding stone, mahogany slab, baskets, and space. Hence, meals were easily prepared within.
During Ajumobi’s lifetime, for helping her keep her kitchen well furnished, she compensated him with delectable meals for his good work with her kitchen.
She reminisced about how joyful and occupied her kitchen used to look. Her kitchen used to emanate energy and noise to the hearing of the Kufi villagers, but now, it was just her patiently watching the glowing fire. Cooking had become tiring – cooking was tiring, but a village woman had to cook at least three meals a day.
Pottage with pepper soup, fried lobsters and crab in the morning, Amala or Poundo yam in the afternoon with ebola vegetable soup and boiled beans with fried plantain in the evening. Hence, her kitchen was always in use. It simply stressed her out, but Kufi women were powerful singers.
They loved songs so much because they signified a means of expressing consent and dissent, a means of intimidating rivals and vexing opponents, a means of putting children to sleep or attracting love and attention. Music was such a powerful tool to her. So, she sang a song from time to time to lighten her burden.
Yaremi sang a song about fire. Fire was a gentle lamb and also a blitzing monster. This song mirrored her reality. Her life had become hot- like fire since her husband died.
The lyrics of the song went;
I’ll tame this fire
I’ll cast a spell on this fire…
I’ll put the burning ember of this fire..
Inside my palm
And smile a smile of courage
To the world
Life is hot
Hot like fire
Life is fire
It was a song of acceptance and determination, and she sang it with her voice in high crescendo.
Yaremi liked to cook – she revered the accomplishments she made in the kitchen and enjoyed giving Woye his meal, as it gave him new strength and hope (p.16). “Just the right amount of salt” she’d say, after tasting the pepper soup which brought tears to her eyes.
She had accepted and embraced her reality. Now, she understood how to go about her day – tick all the boxes on the list. Her bean seeds were always ready for threshing, her boiling coco yam for tending, old quilts to stitch, her palm nuts, husks and straw to separate, gathering fuel wood. Then her afternoon tasks included; dyeing taffeta, and burning the chaff amongst others. At the end of the day, she retires with a long yawn in her small ante-room.
She had become so accustomed to heavy tasks that most times, she would not feel the pain of the hard work. Sometimes it hurt, in her back to her hips down to her thighs; so she’d fluff a cotton wool pillow, and place her head and armpits comfortably on it to drive away the active pain.
The next day, the same thing happened. It had become a routine. God had compensated her with strength and willpower, even more than that of other Kufi young women (youths). Yaremi’s physical looks depicted youth; she was tall, elegant, well-kept, and agile.
She was 50 years old, but she looked and worked nothing like 50 years old.
I guess that was God’s gift to her.
Did you miss the Chapter 1 Summary? Click here to read it.
