A Silent Rambler: The Diluted Nigerian Edition (Part 2)
Welcome one, welcome all!
Too lavish a greeting? Yeah, I thought as much…
I feel like in my posts I have to address the reader in some
way, acknowledge that there is a presence reading my stuff, judging, waiting…
Ok maybe not judging and waiting but I know somewhere in the world someone is
reading this, so, Hi!
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| Pic above - On the bridge leaving Victoria Island - Lagos |
So the ‘Diluted Nigerian’ has returned to Nigeria! After 12 long years, I was reunited with my grandmother. I must admit, I pictured this moment in my head so many times, each time I would burst out crying whilst clinging unto her, cherishing the moment whilst onlookers admired the endearing scene from a distance…dramatic, I know. The reality, not so dramatic but still very cute. Shall I set the scene?
It is a warm, sticky
afternoon in Nigeria. I had just flown into Owerri (my mother’s hometown) on a
local flight from Lagos (pronounced Lay-gohs NOT Lah-gos – If you’ve seen the
new Captain America movie then you’ll understand the reference). My cousin is
waiting for me at the baggage carousel and informs me that my grandmother is
waiting outside by the chairs and I started to consider if waiting for my
luggage to arrive was really worth it, I just wanted to see her. Even in that
moment I could still see myself breaking down crying upon seeing her face, the
tension started building. Swarms of people in front me lazily pulling their
suitcases behind them as they begrudgingly left the cool comfort of the aiport
building into the unwelcoming, sweltering Nigerian heat – how’s that for
dramatics? ;)
It’s like my cousin
could smell the air of impatience around me and insisted on taking my suitcase
as I proceeded to squeeze myself through the crowd. Then I hear her call my
name in her sweet motherly tone, the faces of irrelevant people around me
become blurred and all I can see is my grandma, teary eyed, with frail arms
beckoning me over to her.
Now, don’t get me wrong there was clinging of all sorts, we
hugged, marvelled at how time had aged both of us in different ways and hugged
again. I became teary eyed but that was it. Not a drop rolled down my cheek, I
just simply smiled at her and it was nice. It was a really nice moment, we
walked out of the airport hand in hand and made our way to my cousin’s
air-conditioned car.
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| 'Hand of Rochas' Statue - Owerri |
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