“I open my eyes to see a Mexican wave of women dashing to their seats, each breathing a loud sigh of relief—except for Big Mama. She’s already slumped in her chair, shoes kicked off and legs outstretched. Her toenails look like pork scratchings dipped in red paint. With a plate of chin-chin balancing on her protruding stomach, she scoffs a handful of the biscuit-like snack, crunching like a horse chewing a carrot. I smile. Big Mama may be the loudest of my three-hundred odd aunties—yes, because in Nigerian culture, every Afro-Caribbean woman who is older than you by at least ten years, is by default, your auntie, regardless of whether or not you’re blood-related—but still, I cannot help but love the woman.”
Extract from ‘Yinka, where is your Huzband?’– included in the showcase