This writing is something I was supposed to do immediately after Eid-ul Ad’ha but then you know, I stood in my own way, as Charley Pride says.
Growing up, we always had dhadha oola (sheep oil) in the house and there’s nothing we hated more. It had a strong smell, it was fatty and we just preferred our food made with vegetable oil. Mum would often put a small amount of it in her food or porridge and we couldn’t fathom it. When my sister suffered boils, she was made to take it in her food because it sort of helped cure it. And on occasions when we were out of cooking oil, we’d use it to cook and on those days, we grudgingly ate our food.
Fast-forward to a few weeks ago, and on Ad’ha, we slaughtered a sheep. That meant we’d have to make dhadha oola, and I was surprisingly, looking forward to it. The skill to make it is just one of those ones that you know, because, ain’t you a nomad? And so it feels inherent. ‘What do we do with the oil?’ Father asks and my sister says that actually, adha is interested in taking some back and dad is surprised because last he checked, none of us could stand it.
Pumped by the fact that there would be a consumer for it, he shows us a plant to add to the oil while it is forming, to help remove the strong smell the oil usually has. Basso billa or something to that effect, is the name of the plant. I don’t know what it’s called in other languages, as is my conundrum with a lot of things I grew up with. With the help of my sister, I cut the thick fat of the sheep’s tail fat into little chunks, not too little because you don’t want them getting burned. And then I placed the pile on the jiko, and dropped a few leaves of the plant onto it. I thought four pieces would be enough but dad, when he came back, said nope! A lot more, and it felt like he dropped the whole shrub in there.
The heat melts the fat, the oil slowly drowning the chunks of fat that shrunk significantly to tiny, hard pieces we call guguble, and love to eat because with the fat out of the way, it feels like popcorn. And then I poured the oil into a different pot. The trick is to empty the oil as it forms, to avoid the chunks getting stuck at the bottom of the pot, burning and eventually ruining the oil. After it had cooled, I poured some of it into an empty soda bottle and brought it with me, and have since been taking little bits of it with food and porridge.
My sister will still, not touch the thing but I don’t mind it at all, especially knowing the health benefits now. It is said that paternal my grandfather, used to drink the oil through his nose. The stories told of him are wild, and he is somewhat a legend to us. Even though we never met him, everyone who did says the same thing. My transformation into my ancestors is cruising smoothly and maybe one day, I will be everything they were, or maybe just the brave things, the beautiful things.