This is my attempt to tell you about my experience going back to Nigeria for the first time after being in the States for 6 years.
As you can imagine, I was very excited about going back home after completing my Bachelor's Degree. I was gonna go and see Mom and Dad and show them how well I've done and they will be proud of me. So I packed up my bags and got on the plane in hopes of being back to my father land in about 24 hrs - (We ofcourse had to stop at Amsterdam for 8 hrs since there are no more direct flights to Nigeria.)
I could hardly sleep on the plane since I was so anxious to get back home. When the pilot announced for us to fasten our seatbelts because we were approaching Muritala Muhammed Airport, I almost couldn't keep still in my seat due to my excitement. When the plane landed on the run way, I knew I was definitely in Naija because the runway just wasn't the smoothest. - Hmm,that's Naija for you. As soon as I got off the plane, Oru yen bo mi wa (that means that the heat covered me immensely). The airport was so warm and humid that my perm that I had hooked up on my head "to show them how it's done"went flat straightaway - that was quiet humbling for me. Anyway, as I was making my way jeje to the immigration booths, I noticed that people around me were running towards the immigration area - I mean grown men and women running like they were in a sprint race with their cabin luggage tucked under their arms. I couldn't figure out exactly what was going on but when I got to the immigration line, I figured out why those people were running. The line was sooooo long and the longer you stayed on line, the hotter it got. Don't ask me why but some people had special privileges to skip the line ahead of us even though we got there before them. By the time it was my turn, oru yen ti fe da mi lo ri ru.
Thankfully, I had no problems with the immigration officers but they told me to keep my passport close to me if I intend to leave Nigeria to go back to the states anytime soon - I smiled. These people are so nice I thought to myself.
Waiting for my luggage was quite an experience. I waited for over an hour to get my two bags. When I finally got to the customs officers, they took one look at my passport and smiled. They said I am what they call "Agric". I later found out that they were trying to say that I look older that I actually am. I thought that was funny.
When I was finally done at the airport, I was looking more like I just came from Sokoto. My hair was flat on my head and my body was steaming inside me jeans. But hey, I was excited to see old friends and my family again after 6 years of being abroad without them. That old Shina classic just echoed in my head :
"Baby mi Americana, Naija lo wa yi o ee".
The moral of the story is : There is no such thing as looking cute when arriving at Muritala. Make sure you dress comfortably - don't wear jeans or sneakers to the airport. Upon arriving at the airport, know that you will be there for a while. Ma kanju.
Naija is no joke and yes, I love it.
After leaving the airport, I slowly began to notice that the Naija I left in 1990 was definitely not the Naija I found in 1996. My first shocker was that the price of Fanta was 15 Naira. Before I left, it was 1 Naira and 50 kobo and I remember how I used to complain that that was too expensive. Gone are the days of 1 kobo sweets (candy). Hmm, I remember when I used to collect 1 kobos so that I can buy tomtom at my neighbour's garage store.
Anyway, when Daddy was driving me home from the airport, we were stopped by the olopa officers. I think that we were charged with two offences. 1. We didn't have a fire extinguisher in the vehicle. 2. The engine number in the car was not the same as the engine number on the car particulars. (till today, I don't understand exactly what those car particulars are). We were detained on the highway until the oga patapata told the other olopa's to let us go because they were detaining us unnecessarily. I was thankful for the oga patapata showing up because my Dad was ready to stay there as long as it would take.
So after about an hour's drive, I finally got to my house to be reunited with my siblings - Wow, it was a beautiful event. My sisters were now grown women. My baby brother too was grown and his feet were actually bigger than mine. He was actually posing and speaking the new Naija slangs with me. I ofcourse had to put him in check (just kidding). My siblings were staring at me for a while but it didn't take too long for them to start treating me like I never left.
The first meal I had was amala with obe efo ati igbin - that is my favorite. I can eat igbin for days. I hadn't had amala for six years and I was just eating like I never ate before - Hmmmm. God bless Nigeria.
I spent the next couple of days going over to see my old friends and letting them know that I was back. All the little short neighborhood boys were now towering over me. They were going around bopping their heads to "Juicy" by Biggie. They love Biggie down there. Some of them actually started professing their undieing love for me. Which kind love be that? - after six years of not seeing me. Some friends accused me of "fashi"ing them (that is the new Naija slang for ignoring someone). I told them Yankee land is not that easy. Some asked me for gifts, when I told them I didn't bring anything, they came to raid by house the next week. Now I know not to polongo myself anytime I go home. People change, including your old friends.
Apart from the unfortunate mishap, I had a good time during my first visit back. A couple of people tried to 419 me though. There was a time in particular when someone sold me two 15 Naira donuts for 50 Naira each. My Mom followed me back to get the rest of my money back. But it's all good, I learned from that experience boy. I even went back home in 1997. A couple of my friends now attend UI so I hung out alot with them. Big Up to Gbenga Onakanmi, Bola Onigbogi, La mour (Dayo), Funmi Omiyale, Kayode Onakanmi and Jerri. I also worshipped with the Church Of Christ at Total Garden Ibadan - thanks brethren for making me feel so welcomed.
Before I left Naija the first time I went back, my Daddy called me aside and said :
"Tokunbo, I know you're getting older and men are now going to be interested in you. That is fine with me. Whatever you do, you must not marry anyone that is not Nigerian. If he is a Nigerian, he has to be a Yoruba man from a good home."
All I could do was smile and say "Yes sir". Parents never change. During my stay, they treated me like the little 13 year old girl that left a while ago. My Dad wouldn't let any one of my friends take me out unless one of my older siblings was there. But all in all, I know he was being protective out of love and that's fine with me.
Daddy died a year ago - I miss him dearly.
