The Search For Home

Chapter Eight: Starting Somewhere

Port Harcourt, Nigeria.
15th July, 2014.

Her lips curved into a small smile as she listened to a young lady seated at the nearby table speak lovingly to her mother on the phone. Siddiqa couldn't help but be reminded that lately, she could barely conjure up her parents and sister's faces in her mind without glancing at their photos. She believed it had everything to do with the fact that she was far away from Cardiff.

Her attention soon came back to the spiral of the menu in front of her. She must choose her dinner or die of hunger. But seemed to be one of the toughest decisions she has taken since she arrived in Nigeria. Choosing the right food has become chaotic. The past two months had taught her a lot. She just realized that her whole neighborhood was taking care of her back in Cardiff. Mrs. Gaddafi had been feeding her well even though she insisted she was okay on her own. Oh, now she misses that woman. Life would have been more miserable without her. And make a mental note to call when she back to her room.

Just as she felt herself sinking into a pool of melancholy, the same voice from earlier resounded in her ears, "Aren't you the same girl from the room next to mine?"

"Am I?" Leah responded with equal enthusiasm and wide eyes staring right back at the young woman.

"Of course you are," the girl laughed. "By the way, I'm Zahira." She extended her hand towards Leah.

"I'm Siddiqa," Leah said as they shook. "Nice to meet you, Zahira."

With that accent, you're not from around here, girl," Zahira observed as Leah pronounced her name.

"Ah, you've got a sharp ear," Siddiqa acknowledged with a laugh, as Zahira settled into the chair across from Siddiqa.

"I came from Wales."

Zahira's curiosity was piqued. "Wales? That must be a long way from here. Which part of Wales are you from? Not that I have been there before." She chuckled.

"Cardiff, to be exact," Leah replied, her eyes lighting up with memories of her hometown. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia.

Zahira nodded thoughtfully. "Cardiff, I've heard of it. Must be quite different from Port Harcourt."

Leah couldn't help but smile at Zahira's genuine interest in her background. "It's a world apart, but I'm excited to experience something new. And you, Zahira, are you from around here?"

Zahira chuckled again, shaking her head. "A Nigerian, from Yobe. This is my second time in Port Harcourt.

"Wow, your second time here? That's exciting. It sounds like you wanted to explore this place."Zahira nodded enthusiastically, matching Leah's expression.

"Absolutely! The first time I was here, it was for a school presentation, and I hardly got to see anything. This time, I made sure to come back with a plan to discover more of Port Harcourt and its surroundings."

Leah admired Zahira's warm and welcoming demeanor. "This is my first time in Nigeria, and so far, the weather seems pretty friendly."

Zahira grinned, finding Leah interesting. "The weather is indeed nice here, but there are places where it can be harsh. You'll find that Nigeria has a lot of diversity."

"A friend told me that sunscreen is a must-have," Leah added, remembering Bilal's thorough explanation about the harshness of the sun, which one will assume he has been there at least once in his life.

"Well, it isn't so bad. But your friend is right."

As they chatted, Siddiqa couldn't help but feel a sense of connection and belonging, knowing that she was not alone in this foreign place. Having Zahira at that moment with her is another kind of blessing.