The Challenge

Suya & Letters.

My Love,

Do you know Ali is a poet? I got to the sailing club early, to catch the sunset and the ripples in the water and to allow myself get lost in nature. And I think because I was alone, and probably looking new or maybe out of place, he walked up to me and asked for my name. No first, he asked what song I would like played on the old blue jukebox, with dancing sailors painted on. And I picked Celine Dion's My Heart Will Go On, for the plot; the water, the side railings beaten by the elements and the years, the crabs going about their business from sand to water, frantically, lazily and you, far away from me, but here still.

Anyway, I think the choice struck a kind nerve because he asked if I was waiting for you and how it wouldn't be until an hour before the first batch of suya would be ready. I told him I'm here to count the long hours until you return, to a home you haven't seen, but a place you grew up in; to spark my joy as I wait. He's almost convinced that he knows you. He knows everyone, apparently, one of the perks of years of skewering and cutting, spicing and smiling. Stories find their way to him and in return he says the suya gives them something to remember. I wonder what you remember of this place, if its changed so much from when you were a boy. I can see children playing with dogs and swimming across the river. Was that you in another life?

They are making changes to the serving area. Putting up new neon signs, an image of a man, with bright eyes, and kind lines traced across his face. I tell Ali, it bares an uncanny resemblance to him, when he comes to drop my first helping of suya and his "do you think so?..." is one of raised eyebrows, and thoughtful staring, complete with a scratch of his white beard. And this is where it gets interesting. He's making changes as a fulfilment of a long time promise (he won't say to whom, yet), but he'd like my help in setting up the socials and documenting the story of change for two weeks, 14 days, in exchange for free tozos and chicken suya, a verse of poetry and stories of all he's seen, on the river, across the river, on the grass and in the rain, scenes built over the scent of groundnut flavoured spice melted into beef and chicken. I also get DJ dibs on the jukebox. Honestly, a generous offer, considering the prospect of stories alone would suffice.

So, my eternal audience of one, as a starter, here is a verse of the poem he sang as the clouds ripped themselves into tiny pieces of red balls, golden in the middle, rowed out across the heaven like farmed paradise, as a family of six, standing close by debated on all the meals they would make, from Ali's labour of joy;

But, God

Have I not scoured the length

And breadth of this life you have given

For a thing to love

For a pebble that sticks out in the sand

For a shell the sea has given back.

~

• Navy Town Suya is a suya experience company for the community focused, and relationship conscious, who desire quality and convenient suya. Read our story here. Subscribe to stay informed on our events, offerings and posts.

• This story is the first of a 14 day content consistency challenge with Creatuuls. Share and tell us what you think in the comments. 🙏🏽❤️