I was taken around a cluster of huts in the Fulani village during a pre-funeral gathering. Escorted by a woman who only spoke Hausa, she linked arms with me as she shutteled me from one hut to another. There I sat among the chattering women, while the teenaged girls peered inot the doorways, staring at me in wonder. I was offered food and a dirty spoon that looked like everyone had been sharing it. I ate and it was good.
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