​My fiancé and I always talked about stopping at Jamil's but never had until today. Upon entering, the smell of incense hits you like a wave. The small shop is crammed floor to ceiling with nonfiction books—including titles like Mass Incarceration in America, history tomes about Islam and Egyptian civilization, and children's books featuring Harriet Tubman and George Washington Carver—plus jewelry, clothing, handcrafted soaps, incense, and perfumes.

I wandered around, not sure what to purchase. I fingered a bangle, contemplating a gift for a friend, I flipped through a children's book, mindful of my niece's birthday, then my eyes set on African Black Soap. It's the same kind my partner and I use every day. I grabbed two bars.

The proprietor pointed to a giant block of what looked like marble. He offered to give me a block of "real African black soap" handmade by a friend of his. We discussed the difference between the soap I was purchasing and the one made by his friend. Apparently the handmade is harsher, but better for deep cleansing. I declined, saying maybe I'll be braver next time.

As we left, my partner commented that we can do better about supporting local small businesses. The soap was cheaper than it is at Target. I'll be grabbing the soap at Jamil's from now on and will probably purchase the book on mass incarceration.

At first I felt odd entering the store, like I didn't belong there. My mind quickly changed as soon as the proprietor engaged with me. It's rare to make human connection as part of a transaction anymore. 
One Large participant: RF
Name of black-owned business: Jamil's Global Village
Location: Pittsburgh, PA
Race/ethnicity of participant: Caucasian