Browsing: Omo Olopa

The rhythm of the pestle hitting the mortar was a Sunday-Sunday affair. The cooked yam would soon give way to a succulently formidable Iyan after series of pounding at a regular frequency. Nobody cared about what part of Ekiti the other came from. We shared everything together. To us, Ekiti was one community, bonded, not bounded, just like the chopped yams that eventually transformed into one inseparable Iyan.