Meet Aziza
Eritrean culture is all about joy and togetherness. Life can feel like a series of celebrations, whether it’s a birth, a wedding, or a joyful reunion. And all good celebrations call for one thing: food.
Aziza’s love of cooking began with a classic case of sibling rivalry.
At just nine years old, she discovered her younger sister expertly cutting chicken for dinner. She was shocked – how did her little sister know how to cook when Aziza didn’t? She asked, “Who taught you this?”
“Our mother,” her sister replied.
Not wanting her sister to outshine her, she marched to their mother, asking for lessons. But what started as a competitive challenge quickly turned into a passionate pursuit.
It turns out Aziza was a natural in the kitchen, and her knack for cooking didn’t go unnoticed. She remembers coming home from school one day and whipping up dinner, placing it on the table for her whole family to share. Her aromatic rice dish went down a treat. “My dad said, ‘never your mum cook – you cook!’. That time, I was happy.”
From then on, the cooking baton was well and truly passed. She mastered all of the big dishes of Eritrean culture, and even cooked for big events, adorning her table with spicy dishes, injera bread, and sweets, all staples of her heritage. “Since then, I cook all the meals at home and for ceremonies like Ramadan,” she says, “I cook everything!”
Although Aziza didn’t grow up in Eritrea, the small northeast African country bordering Ethiopia and Sudan where her parents were born, her heritage is woven into the fabric of her life. Aziza’s mother’s refugee journey took her from Sudan to Saudi Arabia, where Aziza was born. Aziza recalls her mother’s sadness and longing for home, as well as her determination to keep their culture alive.
Eritrean culture is all about joy and togetherness. Life can feel like a series of celebrations, whether it’s a birth, a wedding, or a joyful reunion. And all good celebrations call for one thing: food.
When her sister’s wedding approached, Aziza remembers her house buzzing with activity as neighbors gathered, each contributing to the feast. “Anyone could come into our home,” Aziza remembers. The celebrations didn’t stop; they lasted for months, each meal an expression of love and community.
Now living in Australia with her family, Aziza continues these traditions. When her far-flung family members (including her six brothers) reach a special milestone – a new baby, a marriage – she gathers friends and neighbors at her house here to commemorate. “If I hear a good story, I cook. I say, ‘today is a good day’. We dance, we eat. Coffee, cake, food – everything is a reason to celebrate!” she says. “This is our culture.”
Within her own four walls, Aziza is carrying on her culinary legacy by teaching her eager daughter the art of cooking. She also carves out special time to be with her family each week (using food as a bit of an incentive, of course). Every Friday evening, Aziza makes popcorn, cake, and coffee, lighting traditional incense as she waits for her kids to arrive, drawn by the warm, buttery aroma.
“My son says, ‘I’m hungry! I smell popcorn!’ and then all together, they come sit and I’m happy,” Aziza says. They gather around a small coffee table, sharing laughter and stories before settling down for a movie. This weekly ritual keeps her connected to her culture and loved ones.
In the end, Aziza knows that happiness is meant to be shared. This is what she is most looking forward to in her Free to Feed cooking classes: bringing more people into her celebrations. “We share our food and happiness,” she says. “If you’re happy, do something! Share that happiness.”