The Holiday Entries: Christmas Day-

It's funny to me sometimes how adversely I react to going back to a place that was home for my first 13 years. It's even funnier still how little of the place itself I remember. I've got the whole "Nigerian in Diaspora" thing down to a T it seems. The sad part is that I don't particularly feel at home outside of Nigeria either. I think I fit perfectly into the category of what a friend of mine calls Confused Global Citizens; I manage to be simultaneously from everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

Merry Christmas everyone!! Peace to all and joy on earth and all that gollywash. So whilst everyone is digging into overly dry turkey and carolling I can’t even leave my house. I still have no bag. I spent the day (so far) cooking for dogs I hate and who hate me And I came to the conclusion that without proper editing, i.e. deleting the majority of this, it will never see the light of day. 

I received some bad news too about a dear family friend back in Manchester and Lord knows that alone has ruined my day. I received a call that picked me up though, so I'm thanking God for little blessings as always.

Also I told Mother I wanted to go see my childhood house, maybe take some of my father’s books with me. We have no driver at the moment and letting her drive all the way there from here is like actively seeking death so I’m hopeful but not optimistic. 

The Holiday Entries: Small Blessings

This is an extract from Day 2. I feel the need to point out that these were all written in the heat of the moment.

I think I have my appetite back on the upside. Something about travelling takes the whole idea of food off of my mind for a while.

I really want my stuff back and I am getting even more homesick; I swear I cannot wait to be back in Dubai. I keep calling the airport almost frantically and there has been no answer. My mum keeps telling me all these things; ‘in case of next time’ she says…I am too angry to contemplate the possibility of a next time. I keep chanting ‘home is where the bags are’ in my head. Currently the bags are in upheaval which means home is in upheaval which means I am in upheaval.

I had an argument of sorts with God today and I told him that if I didn’t get my stuff back I would never come back. I feel like he laughed and said ‘you were never gonna come back anyway’.

Oh I took some pictures today. Not anything to write anywhere about. 

The Holiday Entries: Home??

I've thrown out hints about writing some stuff about my time in Nigeria but as you can see it took me a little longer than it should have. The truth I was hesitant to upload anything about it because frankly I disliked almost all of the time I spent there. 

I kept something akin to a journal for the duration of my two weeks though most of its contents are self-censored and may never make it into public viewing. So this is how I plan to work it. I'll put snippets of my journal entries on here with some of the pictures I took and hope and pray that is enough to satiate your appetites (JIA!!).

Let's start with Day 1:

I hate travelling. I think I’ve said that over a handful of times since I got to the airport and I think my friend who has the unfortunate task of travelling with me is sick of it now. But I have my reasons. Journeys never go the way they should and destinations almost always prove deceptive or painfully correct. First they had a problem with my tickets which took them all too long to sort out and led to me buying overly expensive perfumes in duty free. Then they delayed my transit flight by an hour. Then upon my arrival and after almost an hour of pointless waiting, it was disclosed to me that my bags had in fact been misplaced/left behind/or its location were otherwise unknown.

Of course my mother blamed ME for the fact that the AIRLINE misplaced a BUNCH OF PEOPLE’S bags...I can see how all that is my fault.

Nevertheless I returned “home” to mull over the fact that I had lost not only my bag but my friend’s bag that I had checked in for him. GREAT START. 

Eventually I found myself thinking that this was a sign that I should never have come. I should never have returned to the motherland after all. I truly didn’t want to come. I am in that place in my life where I am spreading roots in some place other than what most others would call my home. I am as yet undecided as to whether that is a positive or negative change; maybe it’s a bit of both. All I know is as much as I love my country and my people, my family and the few friends I still have there, I don’t think I can live in this country.