It cannot be denied as even from the doorstep, you can perceive that sweet smell. Of course, you will know that the aroma is different. From the aroma alone, you will know the soup will contain meats, pepper, curry and other ingredients needed for a soup to taste exceedingly delicious. It was my mom's Okra soup.
She never disappoints, producing sweet and tempting aromas from her meals whenever she is cooking. There is just a way those aromas can drag you home if you are perceiving it from afar.
On this fateful day, I was in a rush coming back from an outing just to get home and get quality rest. Pushing our rusted gate and entering our compound, I was welcomed with something unexpected. I saw our last born, John, sitting on the wooden bench placed on the veranda. He looked at me with one facial expression.
"Uncle Ade, You eventually returned back home?"
"Yes na, I immediately returned back home as fast as I could". In recent months, my workplace has been choking me, and I haven't had time to visit home all this while.
"Uncle Ade, mummy have been asking of you all this while". John responded.
"Yeah, I was told. I am sorry, I have been busy with work schedules. How is she feeling right now?" I asked John.
"She is fine just that she is tired. You can check her inside." John responded to my question.
In anticipation, I hurriedly entered the house. I saw Mum sitting on one of the chairs at the parlour. She looked so lean and worn out. Looking into her face, I instantly realised how far I had been away from home and how much I had missed her.
"Ade, My son",, She voiced out, calling my name.
"Mother, Ade is here" I knelt beside her feeling her warm embrace.
"Son, you took so long coming back to check up on me". She asked.
"Mummy, I know; I am so sorry; I have been preoccupied with work issues. I am so sorry, Mother," I replied to her in total sober.
John entered the parlour where my mother and I were still talking. John was carrying this rounded pot that contained this egusi soup that John had prepared a few hours ago. Placing it on the table beside the chair my mum sat on, John rushed out to get the pounded yam that was packaged in a plate.
"Mummy, this is your food; you need to eat now", John echoes to my mom before leaving the parlour.
Her eyes turned to look at the soup. "Who prepared this soup. You?"
"No, Mother, it was John", I responded.
"I thought as much because I know my son, Ade, you will not know how to prepare it"
Later on that fateful day, after I had made sure that my mother had eaten and also slept. I spend quality time chatting with John at the veranda.
"John, I am sorry" I started our conversation.
I actually knew I needed to apologise. On several occasions, John has reached out to me through calls to come home. But work issues have always been preventing me.
"No problem, Uncle Ade; at least you are here with us right now,, and that is just what matters,", John responded.
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STOPGood one. Nice exposition revolving mummy , her soup which was salivating.
Top notch exposition.
I support @consistency and @marriot5464 .
Sometimes we just need that taste of home, it brings memories that cannot be broken