I grew up in a small village in northern Nigeria.
What I remember best are the evenings. As the heat of the day slowly loosened its grip, people gathered beneath the great baobab trees. Mats were rolled out, paraffin lamps were lit, and the conversations began. The grown-ups told stories and talked together. We children played around them, listened in now and then, and eventually fell asleep on the mats. The evenings had their own rhythm. There was always time for one more story.
I don’t remember much of what was said. But I remember the feeling of being there. Of belonging. Of having all the time you needed. In Hausa, the language spoken in the part of Nigeria where we lived, there is a word that captures exactly this feeling.
Hira.
Many years later we found a plot of land in North Jutland. Surrounded by heath and forest, with the North Sea close by. A completely different landscape, but with something of the same calm. We dreamed of building a house where life could slow down. Where there was room for long conversations, quiet mornings and evenings that didn’t need to end.
It became HIRA. A house in the North Jutland landscape, with a little of my childhood in Nigeria.
Welcome.
HIRA is first and foremost our own holiday home. We use it as often as we can, and when we are not here ourselves, we are happy to share it with others. We hope you will enjoy being here as much as we do.
