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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!


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.

'Hand of Rochas' Statue - Owerri

It was strange being back. It was like turning up to the Family barbeque in your house but everyone there is an extended family member that doesn't really know you. You're just that estranged family member that turned up really, really late. They were really welcoming, and made me feel at home. Unfamiliar faces greeted me and spoke of how little I was when they last saw me whilst I smiled awkwardly at them (standard Chanel response).

So I came back from Nigeria learning a few things:

1. The drama in my family has the same consistency of that of a Nollywood film.

2. My grandma is very very small now, I find that weird. Either that or I'm actually getting taller, which makes me happy.

3. I can be stubborn as fudge. I found myself saying no soo many times during my trip with such bluntness I surprised myself.

4. Apparently I am to start searching for a husband, according to my grandma and various other older family members.

5. I am so not ready for marriage.

Can't wait to go back!

This post first appeared on A Confused Me, please read the originial post: here

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A Silent Rambler: The Diluted Nigerian Edition (Part 2)


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