I sincerely apologize for my long hiatus from writing you stories of my “Return to Naija Experience” but I had been caught up in the politics of not wanting to paint a gloomy picture to you, which may in turn scare you away from making the decision I made two years ago. I have decided that what I promised you was my experiences and that I will go back to delivering on that promise with honest description of various stories that highlight my experience both good and bad and leave you to make your decisions. I am also available by phone, e-mail, facebook message or twitter to answer any questions you may have or gist about my experience so far. So please enjoy my first story in a very long time…..
The palm trees are symbolic of the tropical rain forests which lined the entire Niger Delta region and most of South Eastern Nigeria. Sometimes they stood very tall, towering above all the other trees and vegetation in the forest, sometimes the vegetation were so densely populated by palm trees, it looked like they were the only type of trees in the area. Occasionally you would see other trees like Bananas, Plantains, and only a handful of palm trees scattered around the forest. For a while, I took my mind of the bumpy road and went into a day dream of how nice it would be to take the kids on a road trip in Nigeria and point out the differences in the vegetation by the road side here as compared to what we see on our frequent road trips across the United States. The driver missed an attempt to dodge a major pot hole and that jolted me quickly out of my day dreams and reminded me why a road trip around Nigeria with the boys may not be happening any time soon.
I started to ask myself why I was going on this trip. I am saving up to pay for an apartment which is no easy feat in Lagos, and I can’t really afford to spend money on a trip to the village. For a while now, I have been thinking of visiting my step grandma, who is the only old person left in my village that I had any personal affiliation to. Then, I found myself in Warri on course with one weekend in between and started toying with the idea of making the trip even though I had been told by a lot of people that the roads where really bad since it was now rainy season. When a friend offered to give me a car and a driver and threw in a mobile police man in the mix, I decided to embark on the journey home. That is one of the good things about being in Nigeria, mighty generous friends.
I haven’t been to my village in almost 6 years, and for an Igbo person, that is a long time. I use to love going to my village when my paternal grandparents where alive because I was always happy to see them and they were even more happy to see me. The last time I went to the village, was the first time I went there while they were both gone and it just was not the same. I don’t know if it’s just me but I have found going to the village quite depressing lately. Everyone seems to be doing poorly and no one actually meets you to welcome you happily. They just get right into all their problems and seem to believe that you should have been solving them like yesterday. Funny enough, I did not get to see my step grandmother as it turned out she went to an “August Meeting”! Apparently that was way more important than my visit, but the good thing is that it showed she was still full of life so that is great.
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| Aunty Chidiebere and her pretty daughter |
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| Holding Aunty’s pretty blessing |
