My feet miss the familiarity of the sand back home

The cukurookoo from the cock

As it awakens us to a brand new day.

The clang to the pots

As Iya Amala prepares for a new day of sales

My ears miss the familiarity of the noise back home

The laughter and shrills as my little cousins run

Playing a game of hide-and-seek

Voices breaking into accusatory tones

As they go meet grandma to settle who won

My mouth misses the familiarity of the food back home

My tongue burning from mama’s pepper soup

And the sweet smell of plantain as they fry

In preparation for Sunday’s special delicacy

The rice and stew

Topped with goat meat killed during the week

My heart misses the familiarity of my lover’s words

As he engages me in poetry

Whispered lightly into my ears

Asking me to belong to him forever

My whole being misses the familiarity of mama’s hugs

Her perfume too strong yet so soft

As she places me on her laps

Massaging my scalp and laughing to gossip

I miss the familiarity of the noise back home

Now in a foreign country

All I get is goodnight as I press send on WhatsApp

With pillows for companions