Back in Africa, I remember growing up pounding yam in the mortar. I remember my grandmother custom-made a very small mortar for me so I could pound yam in it.
It was a very tedious task, but at the same time rewarding because at the end of it, you get to enjoy the flavor of the yam mashed in wood, and the feel of softness from the unconditional pounding of the yam.
One thing I always did after a full plate of pounded yam was to take a long nap 🙂 . It’s really not pounded yam without a nap 🙂
A close friend of mine who resides in the United States sent me a video of her son pounding yam, and I was so impressed that she kept this culture of ours that could easily be forgotten once we travel out of our African Countries.
What tripped me more is that, it is her son pounding the yam. Our cultural understanding is/was that this role is mostly for women and girls.
Way to go AbbaModupe.