Yegna
Untitled | Same Barker |
Yegna by Asha Dees
It was a perfect night for a photoshoot.
The air in Addis Ababa smelled like thunderstorms, meskel flowers, and diesel fumes. Our footsteps sounded muffled as we stumbled onto the roof, buoyed by our own laughter. We arranged ourselves in the dark, basking in the glow of each other’s company.
Our giggles echoed in the quiet night. We pulled each other close and punctured the air with our bright smiles.
The camera flashed once and the air was filled with the crows of our happiness.
The camera flashed twice and captured the night full of childlike joy.
We raced and screeched into the night, trying to be the first to grasp the polaroid as it tumbled onto the ground. We howled in celebration and shook the still towards the stars and satellites dotting the night sky as the muted black transformed into an explosion of color.
Our faces, our stories, our triumphs in friendship: it was all right there in the photograph. The mischievous grins, our heads thrown back in laughter, fists of victory pumped in the air, and sparkling eyes taking it all in. My best friends and I, standing together, united.
Looking back, I can see that our friendship was a gift born of the choices we made to strive towards understanding. It was a choice to eat from the same gebeta together, sharing Ethiopian food and our own stories with each other. It was a choice to seek each other out as we explored the country we all called home, playing soccer, finding our voices, and having new adventures together. It was a choice to celebrate our differences, the things that made up our cultures, our past, and our dreams.
In the city of Bahir Dar, we had expressed our gratitude for the opportunities we were given. On bumpy car rides, we had sung along to songs familiar and foreign, forming playlists to the melody of glee. At school, we had swapped ideas about how we could contribute to the betterment of our world and acted on them in classrooms, in clubs, and in conversation.
My friends and I taught each other to find the joy in the unexpected. My friends and I learned the importance of curiosity. My friends and I grew to recognize the strength in vulnerability. My friends and I from the United States, France, South Korea, India, China, Croatia, Harari, and Tigray found home in each other. Though we are now separated by distance, their lives, their experiences, and their ideas are forever entwined with mine.
As that night that smelled like thunderstorms, meskel flowers, and diesel fumes faded, someone found a forgotten sharpie on the ground. They wrote the word perfect in a messy scrawl on the polaroid, the beloved emblem of the gift of our friendship.
It was a perfect photo because it was ours.
It was a perfect night because it was ours.
Our perfect night lasts forever on the polaroid proudly hanging on my wall.
