Short Story: A Trip to Nigeria

I’ve had sleepless nights since I knew the grand finale is around the corner. But I really love him and this has no bound. My mom asked if I could do this, my only reply was a nod. Nigerian lawmaker disgraced by kinsmen in Germany, the Sky News reporter on TV made my heart beat faster. After some time alone in my bedroom, I continued with the picking of light clothes into the box for my trip.

“I have to do this for him momma”; that was the first word I spoke the next day as I prepared for my long-awaited trip to Nigeria. I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to calm her nerves as she shed tears while we hugged. Twenty-five minutes later, I arrived at Heathrow Airport. All dressed in an Ankara top my husband bought for me in an African store before he left for his country of origin months ago, maybe that bit of Africaness would help because a part of me still feels unsafe.

Even though I was born in a tough hood in Kingston, I still feel Nigeria is a hell of a place. The announcement on arrival at the Lagos based airport after several hours of mixed feelings in the cabin dropped a grenade in my heart. I held my bag closer to my chest like a college student and my luggage walked at a faster pace. “We are on our way, join you in twenty minutes,” my in-laws, who were coming to pick me from the airport, made things worse. I’ve heard the stories of Lagos touts and pickpockets, I just can’t wait any longer as I thought my accent would make me susceptible to attack. 

Hey! Cutey, we’re here, we were held by the traffic. Welcome to Lagos! My mind was at peace as soon as I saw them around. The first thing I did as I entered the car was to pick my phone and post a picture of myself, tagging mom with the caption: me and my luggage are safe. First time in Nigeria.

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