POUNDED YAM AND EGUSI

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmn, i sighed... My nose defines its aroma.
Sitting at the front yard, Right in front of me is the end product in dishes

Reminisce
The sun was gradually setting
A big family
Everyone was involved in the process
The ladies all in the backyard gossiping and laughing
Osasere on her knees with all focus and determination, grinding onion on stone
Momma standing with a long spoon steering the native pot
Aunts peeling the back of big tubers of yam and placing them in the big pot of boiling water.
It was a regular evening at home in the village

"Osahen" momma screamed out, "come and pound the yam". Osas and i walked in from the corner all set to recreate the boiled yam in the mota.
Side by side we pound set upon set of sliced boiled yam and made them into large moles.

Back in the front yard where i was lost in my thought I regained myself as the others gather together round the dishes.
Pounded yam and egusi was served in fine dishes, the sight of the egusi soup was glorious. Stocked fish scattered around with goat meat and beef in d middle and corner, i salivate.
We were all sited and straight away we dived into the dishes after washing hands.

As the first mole of pounded yam i made with my hands, clothed with the egusi soup hits my mouth all my senses came alive. My tongue couldn't help but rejoice round the mole in my mouth, my eyes widened in excitement, a smiles appear unconsciously on my face.
I could taste the right mixture of every bit of ingredient coming together in agreement to produce a fine taste of what we called egusi. I could see same expression on every persons face. I gracefully swallowed as i couldn't wait for the next experience. My hand stretched for the next mole.

" Momma" i said, "This is good!"