Mide

Describing home is hard. From the sound to the feeling, From the tears to the laugher. I say it's the sound of my siblings shouting - No, I won, I won, Mum!? My sister says it's the deep rumbling voice of my dad As he speaks on the phone, shaking the house, almost. I say it's the taste of jollof fries - Nigerian for the win. My sister argues, it’s Lidl crisps that I hate. I say it's the smell of the cologne that I stole from my dad. She rolls her eyes and says it’s our mum’s cooking. I say it looks like the stain on our ceiling. She scoffs and says - it looks like our house? I say it feels like my keys, as i move to check for it But of course, she opposed and says it's the feeling of her pillow. So I guess home is a little different for all of us.