I am from the pink lake and slaves’ house, from sabar and thiebou djeun.
From the 200m2 straw hut shared with the whole family, cramped and tribal with the scent of a secret mix of thiouraye.
I am from the baobab, big and scary the madd sweet, or spicy, the kinkeliba leaves hot and delicious, enjoyed, by my friends and me under a tree, where we sit talking about everything and nothing.
I am from korite, tabaski and hospitality, From Absa and Niania, and Yakhya.
I am from the shouting of my uncles over a soccer game, strong and loud.
I am from the excitement of my cousins as we approach holidays.
From “appreciate whatever you have and share with whomever is in need.”
I am from faith, charity and a pilgrimage to Mecca, From Ramadan and the five daily prayers.
I’m from mbalax, drums, and all different kinds of music. From mortar and pestle and the wood sifter..
I am from the “guess what” and “let me tell you something”, the “what’s wrong” and the “I am here for you” I am from where everyone plays around no matter how big the situation is. From corruption and a lack of universities.
I am from Gueule Tapee, where everyone is welcomed, the city of gossip, curiosity and pride. I am from generosity, happiness and memories.
Photo by jurvetsonTags: New York City Writing Project's 2018 ELLs Academy
My experiences, my treasure. by Mame is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.