On Tuesday, my mum wasn’t feeling too well, but she picked up a basin and machete and announced that she was going to the farm. This particular farm is about a mile away from home.
I immediately asked her to stay back because of how she was feeling, but she insisted. Thing is, the people who own the farms next to hers had been calling her repeatedly to let her know that her plantains were due for harvesting. She was worried they might get stolen if she didn’t go and get them herself. Since she was determined to go anyway, I decided I was going with her. I’ve heard too many stories of women collapsing on their farms because of health issues, and I really didn’t want to ever receive heartbreaking news about my own mother. So, if she was going, I was going too.
But I gave her one condition that we weren’t walking all the way there. We were taking a bike. My mom is kind of financially prudent and is always too calculative that even when ill, for a distance she knows is walkable, she’d rather walk and save money. I wasn’t in the mood to walk with her that morning so I insisted.
We eventually found a bike man, and he took us to the farm. On our way, we stopped at a small chemist shop to get some medication for her. When she went inside to buy the drugs, I sat outside admiring another bike I saw parked there.
We eventually continued to the farm, and when we got there, I was honestly shocked. The entire place had practically turned into a bush.
It has been raining heavily and frequently, which has given the weeds enough opportunity to grow like they pay rent there. They had completely outgrown some of the crops.
Considering how far the farm is from home, my mum can’t go there as often as she would like to keep the weeds under control. She was already looking around, trying to figure out where she would even begin. I told her to relax.
I’ll pay someone to clear the farm for her because, honestly, looking at that bush was enough to make me tired on her behalf.
We went there specifically for plantains, so plantains we were going to get, but of course, we couldn’t leave without bringing a few other things home.
My mum plucked some afang leaves, which is one of the native leaves we use for making our local soup. We also got some pumpkin leaves and, of course, the plantains.
There were about three bunches of plantains ready to be harvested, although two of them were still too young to cut down. My mum decided she would leave those ones to mature properly before selling them.
I also discovered that her banana trees were doing quite well. There were two bunches I noticed. One is almost ready to be harvested and brought home, while the other is still pretty young.
And then there was this other thing I’ve been curious about for the longest time. It’s this purple-looking thing that grows alongside young bananas or plantains. I don’t actually know what it’s called, but I’ve seen people eat it, and I really want to try it.
I think there’s a particular way of preparing and cooking it, which I haven’t properly studied yet. People also say it has some health benefits. I even told my mum about it, and she said that once I find a video showing how to prepare and cook it, I should show her.
So now we have a little farm-food research project going on. Haha. Oh, and I found a snail.
She was tucked between the plantain leaves when my mum cut one of the plantains down. I didn’t take her home, though. I just admired her for a bit and let her go. She was very slimy, and I wasn’t about to start a new relationship with a snail. My cats are really jealous.
After we had gathered everything we could, we started heading home. This time, we walked because there wasn’t a single motorist in sight. Somehow, the walk back felt different even though the sun was scorching. I think it’s because we were carrying fresh produce or because I was just happy that my mum had made it there and back safely. Also because it is satisfying coming home with food you watched growing on the ground.
It was just a simple trip to the farm, but I’m glad I went with her. She even thanked me for it.
