Briq

For my Creative Writing course, we take a field trip each week to a neighborhood/business/personality in Yaoundé and then write a reflection on the experience. This is mine from Briq, the Muslim neighborhood. I've been to Briq countless time and it is by far my favorite place in Yaounde -- culturally its a world apart from the rest of the city and has the best food & fabric to be found. I’m not pretending this is good writing, but its a quickly written blog post!


When I think of Briciterie, I imagine a silent film. The silence may be deafening, but it only makes the movie better and focuses the audience not on endless babble, but rather on the magnificent scene before you. Or maybe, Briciterie is more like a dream where the sounds and shouts never resonate and only come out sounding like whispers.
As I wander the dusty red streets, the quiet hangs in the air and unlike the rest of Yaoundé which feels as if it is in revolt with the honks of the taxis, the catcalls, and the shouts of a good bargain, Briciterie feels like a pious older sister who is content to merely observe and knows full well the merits of restraint. Here, I can walk the streets undisturbed, able to freely step in and out of shops without explaining why I won't buy and instead focus on the colors -- the rust red blood of the slaughtered cow, the faded blue signs for kossam, the pale yellow of the Mosque tiles. From the storefront, fabric hangs in the air forming a fantastic swirl of purples and greens, yellows and reds, and orange and blues that dares not to move in the heavy, still heat.
Turning the corner, suddenly smoke fills the air and my eyes begin to burn as we head towards the soya stands. On the grill, laying out on the brown paper are the countless sticks of soya piled next to a delicate pyramid of peppers and spices. Nearby a woman patiently sells kossam, doling out the paper cups of milk as she sits under her umbrella, avoiding the blistering heat.
And then finally, there is the children. The boys dressed in the traditional agbada and girls covered in headscarves who from the street corners and storefront stare out at us with a solemn look in their eyes.