"Home sweet home"
I miss hearing the blare of Afro-beats that highlights the street of Owerri
"Ha! You want to bam ba? You wanna chill with the big boys? Na you dey run kiti kiti"
the streets covered in sand and mud; sometimes wet, sometimes dry.
Which tastes like a delicious stew made by one of those roadside restaurants; smelling like a delicacy, ones that will make you salivate to hunger.
With crooked roads and loads of horrifying traffic, one that can delay workers from going to work early and make you spend hours on your way, one that could leave you no choice but to pick an okada.
I long for a city comfortable and pleasing; an area where I can quench my hunger and thirst by stopping road sellers and buying 50 naira donuts.
A place where teenage boys and girls make the rules, where dancers can stop the traffic to dance for the entertainment of road users.
I weep for not being in that area where I feel popular, friends shouting my name in salute and admiration. It sounds like listening to Sensima by Skibii on the street, headphones on, with your hands moving and legs jubilating along with the lips as you pour your heart out joyfully at the mention of the lyrics.
How can I forget the horn of the Moi-Moi sellers, reminding me it's breakfast time, a crazy combo with garri that gives you heaven on earth vibes.
The yelling and busyness of market women passing by, reminding you that it's time for hustle. There was never a dulling moment in Nigeria, no matter the weather.
I dare not compare those pleasures with this sleepy place that drowns its occupants, come rain come shine. A place that humbles you and asks you to mind your business.
It tells you what to do and uses it's favourite slang "if you want" and at the end of the day, you are just obeying rules cos you know "you'll be alright"
My first instinct in the plane made me think that I was finally liberated by the crazy mosquitoes that bites at night, the school strikes that befalls students and the bad government that fell unto us like a pandemic but I was wrong because all these now lives in me, a part of me I wishes to hide.
My hope is my current room reminding me of a patient Mum who had been through nooks and crannies and still survives, not complaining about the pain of this crooked nature.
It tells me to be strong and it motivates me, ensuring me that everything will be okay.
The pillow on its head, I comforted. Even when it gets soaked up by the liquid from my eyes, I let it in, in the comfort of my arms thinking of home, sweet home. Waiting and longing for the day I would behold its face again.
By Melody
Okada - bike man
Moi-Moi : bean cake
Garri - cassava flakes
