I didn't have the time to go to a local joint to take a proper picture with a cup of my favorite drink. I totally forgot that I will be writing a post like this until late in the evening as I returned home from work. Though I am not a drinker of any kind of drink today, I have fond memories of my kind of drink which has followed me from my childhood days.
When I was a kid in my small village in Nigeria, palm wine was a common drink tapped fresh every day from palm trees in many homes. In almost every home, you would find palm trees towering over the rooftops with fresh palm wine being tapped from the trees each morning.
My father used to wake up at the crack of dawn to climb our palm trees and extract the sweet nectar inside. By the time I opened my eyes, he'd return home carrying huge gallons of palm wine in calabashes. As a young boy, I always looked forward to whatever my mom would let me drink from my father's morning harvest.
The fresh palm wine had a taste like no other drink. It was sweet and slightly fizzy, going down so smoothly. While the adults would dilute it with water, my siblings and I loved drinking it straight from the tree. The elders warned us we would get drunk, but we never seemed to. We just couldn't get enough of that sweet nectar!
The fresh liquid was usually warm and would drip slowly into our cupped hands when we got to take it from the younger palm trees near the house. Sometimes we got impatient and sucked directly from where my dad had tapped the tree. Of course, my mother would scold us if she caught us doing that. On special occasions, she might mix the palm wine with local fruits like mangoes or oranges to make a refreshing juice drink. Those fruit wines remain some of my favorite childhood memories.
My mom would take most of what my dad harvested to sell at the local market. Palm wine was a big part of our family's income. All through the afternoon, the sweet aroma of fermenting palm wine would waft through our compound. By evening, the calabashes my mom took to market would be empty, sold to neighbors and villagers enjoying the local brew.
As I grew older, I started to appreciate palm wine in a different way. The elders would sit for hours under the trees sharing stories over cups of the drink. There was a real sense of community and bonding. Evenings were spent socializing and strengthening relationships over palm wine. I'll never forget those carefree days of my childhood spent running around the village or helping my dad climb palm trees. Palm wine was interwoven into every part of life back then.
Now as an adult living in the city, I don't drink alcohol besides occasional beverages. But palm wine will always have a special place in my heart. Its sweet taste takes me back to simpler times - memories of carrying kegs of palm wine for my dad, helping mom at the market, and bonding with neighbors. I still get a craving for fresh palm wine sometimes these days, though It might not be good for my health today, but it will always remind me of growing up in my little Nigerian village.
The last time I enjoyed a cup of palm wine was during my visit back home two years ago. I enjoyed sitting with the elders as we converse in the local language about changes in the community exchanging news over cups of palm wine. This experience helps keep me connected to my roots. While I've adapted to life in the city, a part of my heart will always remain in that little village surrounded by palm trees and filled with childhood memories of drinking fresh palm wine.
