The Day I Drank From the Tree of Sweetness 🍃

They say the first sip of fresh palm wine is like tasting the laughter of the earth. I used to laugh when old men said that—until that sunny Saturday in my village.

The air was hot, the drums were playing, and the palm wine tapper had just climbed down with his first harvest of the day. The calabash in his hand was foaming, fresh, and calling my name.

I joined the circle of elders under the mango tree. My uncle passed me a small calabash and said, “Today, you’ll learn why palm wine is not just drink. It is medicine. It is culture. It is truth.”

The first sip? Sweet. Fizzy. Cold. Like nature itself was dancing on my tongue.

As I drank, I felt something loosen in my chest. The stress of the city, the noise, the tiredness—it all melted. One of the elders looked at me and laughed. “You see? Palm wine does not lie.”

He went on to explain the benefits:
🌀 It helps with digestion.
💤 It makes you sleep like a baby.
🦴 It’s good for your bones.
❤️ It’s full of natural yeast and nutrients.
🌿 And when it’s fresh, it's even said to cleanse the blood.

But beyond the health talk, palm wine connected us. Strangers became friends. Elders became storytellers. I sat for hours, sipping slowly, listening to folktales about talking animals, flying women, and the tree that cried.

That day, I didn’t just drink palm wine—I drank in laughter, wisdom, and the spirit of community.

And when I returned to the city the next week, I carried the memory like a full calabash in my heart.

So, my friends on Ecency, if you ever visit the village and someone hands you a calabash of palm wine—don’t refuse. Sip it with respect. You might just hear the trees whisper.

Thanks for your time
I appreciate you guys
Am still your faithful @jenny27