Between sound and smell, which preserves memories better?
For me, I would choose sound over smell because the former is firmer, and there is likelihood to come across it even in a thousand years. But smell could be distinct and unique, appearing once in every generation.
I spent three weeks at Iseyin (a beautiful town where three hills rest against the eastern sky), and it was again sound and not smell that preserved the thrilling memories I had of that camp. Perhaps, it was because Iseyin had no smell or rather it had different arrays of smells which superimposed, resulting to a destructive interference.
I have preserved Iseyin memories with complex sounds from Yanni's soundtrack like: At First Sight, Tribute, Nice to Meet You and Rite of Passage. These memories were stuffed into these beautiful music, so that when I listen to them now, it's as though an invisible force is leading me around Iseyin Camp: the open and closed pavilions, the halls of residence, mami market, man o war ground, the early morning parade in which smokes of cloud perched on the crests of the three hills.
I miss Iseyin, especially the scenery and the few friends I made there even in my silent state. I have preserved these in eternal sounds; they will live forever now.
Ohikhuare Emmanuel Isuku,
(Remembering Iseyin Camp With
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For me, I would choose sound over smell because the former is firmer, and there is likelihood to come across it even in a thousand years. But smell could be distinct and unique, appearing once in every generation.
I spent three weeks at Iseyin (a beautiful town where three hills rest against the eastern sky), and it was again sound and not smell that preserved the thrilling memories I had of that camp. Perhaps, it was because Iseyin had no smell or rather it had different arrays of smells which superimposed, resulting to a destructive interference.
I have preserved Iseyin memories with complex sounds from Yanni's soundtrack like: At First Sight, Tribute, Nice to Meet You and Rite of Passage. These memories were stuffed into these beautiful music, so that when I listen to them now, it's as though an invisible force is leading me around Iseyin Camp: the open and closed pavilions, the halls of residence, mami market, man o war ground, the early morning parade in which smokes of cloud perched on the crests of the three hills.
I miss Iseyin, especially the scenery and the few friends I made there even in my silent state. I have preserved these in eternal sounds; they will live forever now.
Ohikhuare Emmanuel Isuku,
(Remembering Iseyin Camp With
