power, poetry & Passion

Oranges are not just a staple fruit to me. Its a symbol, a core memory dare i say. Its significance and symbolism in an African household. Oranges was a gift to be shared the unspoken symbol of love. At hospitals loved ones peeling off skin to feed to their sick ones as its citrus scent bathed the hospital gloom.

The sweet hellos during visits and bags of oranges on the way to villages. Oranges and how unique its gets devoured. My father loved to cut his in halves while my mother loved to squeeze all the way. I love my oranges in slices because i know someone would like a piece. Oranges is community through time. Nourishing our bodies as well as our souls.