Growing up, you knew trouble was coming the moment an elder reached into the cupboard and pulled out that little tin or jar of menthol ointment. It did not matter whether you had a cough, a bad headache, a scraped knee, an upset stomach, or a fever. The diagnosis was almost irrelevant because the prescription was always the same: you were about to be rubbed down with something that smelled like eucalyptus and pure fire until your skin was glowing. Every household had its own variation of the ritual. The most feared was the steam session. Dropping a generous scoop of balm into a basin of boiling or steaming water, putting your head directly over it under a thick wool blanket, and being told to breathe deeply. By the time you emerged, your sinuses were cleared by force, your eyes were streaming, and your entire room smelled like a pharmaceutical warehouse. If you dared to complain about the burning sensation, you were simply told that the burn meant it was working. Across our dear Africa, different regions pledged allegiance to their own specific brands and nicknames. In Lomé, we had Assévita (literally "cat head"), instantly recognized by the cat head on the tin. In Niamey, it was famously called Sabon Robb. Elsewhere in West and Central Africa, classic Robb and the notoriously volcanic Aboniki Balm were famous. In East Africa, Mentholatum, Tiger Balm, and Vicks dominated medicine cabinets, while in Southern Africa, the green tin of Zam-Buk was the go-to herbal miracle for everything from dry lips to sprained ankles. We laugh about it today, but those little tins were a real sign of care. They were cheap, they were always in the house, and they were a big part of growing up. Which balm was the rule in your house, and what was the funniest thing your family tried to cure with it?   submitted by   /u/Bakyumu [link]   [comments]