Abbayayo’s Place

Kojo sleeps most of the way home from our journey back from Abbayayo’s place. His eyes never quite close completely as if he doesn’t want to miss anything along the way. My own eyes are not entirely open and half of me is still in the kitchen where we sat around the small table and watched Abbayayo make faces as we devoured fresh eggs and crumbly magdalenas. From the kitchen we watched the mountains in the distance, the people gathering around the small pond, and the gaviotas gliding effortlessly by. Abbayayo knows how to listen and watches over Kojo carefully. Despite the years between them, they get along so well. 

“We’re home, Abbayayo, no need to worry.” I say to myself as I open the gate.

The time away was just long enough for me to feel transformed when we return home. My feet are tired, but I don’t mind. Abbayayo packed a little of the mountain, pond, and wind to take home with us.

This Ghanian waxprint fabric is called “Birds Flying Home.” It means that we all have a safe haven.

8 thoughts on “Abbayayo’s Place

  1. The moment you say *to yourself* “We’re home, Abbayayo, no need to worry” – that’s when I had to go back and reread the whole thing. You have managed to make Abbayayo come alive to me through the emotions more than the concrete details.

    Liked by 1 person

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