Deljen zvok

The market erupted in chaos that morning. People shouted and jostled, rushing toward Mama Taye’s stall as if some miracle had been announced. Frying pans clanged, voices rose in excitement, and the smell of sizzling Jollof rice filled the air. “Hurry! Don’t miss Mama Taye’s Jollof!” a woman yelled. Mama Taye moved swiftly, serving plates with a smile while keeping an eye on the long line stretching far beyond the stall.