FROM LONDON WITH PAINS

CHAPTER THREE

She felt like she was on a different planet, a very busy planet where everything seemed to be done with haste. There she was, at the Lagos international airport. She was in Nigeria, a place she dreaded.

‘Unbelievable…’ Adaora whispered to herself. Taking note of everything and everyone she saw.  The people at the airport were all looking classy and fashionable. Not the stereotypical hungry people she had thought Nigerians looked like.

There were girls cat-walking all over the airport lounge in their heels. Some noisily chewed gums, some were laughing loudly over the phone, while others punched the screens of their expensive looking phones with nails which could pass for claws and outrageous makeup on their faces. One thing most of the girls seemed to have in common, as Adaora had observed, was their clothing sense. They all donned different colors of clothing pieces, trying to color block.

Neither were the males left out of the fashion parade, with their body hugging trousers and Ankara bow ties and monkey jackets.

It was rowdy outside the airport. People tugged at Adaora’s arm, asking her to convert any hard currency she had on her to naira, while others were begging her to let them carry her luggage. She paid no attention to them but held on tightly to her mother, who as well, seemed a bit lost in the commotion. Owing to the fact that, she had not been to Nigeria for the past 25 years.

They soon flagged down a taxi, after much negotiation between her mother and the taxi driver; they finally flung their luggage in the boot of the yellow and black taxi, and got into their seats.

There was a lot of hold up on the road, fume from the exhaust pipes of old rickety road-unworthy cars threatened to choke Adaora, as they kept on exuding seething smoke. There were also children on both sides of the road, and even in the middle of the road, undaunted by the vehicles, selling their wares and running from car to car, showcasing what they carried. Some were at the side glass of her taxi.

‘Aunty see oh!’ A young boy with fried groundnuts peered through her side of the car.

I get am! Buy my own!’ Another joined, beckoning at the bucket on his head.

Adaora shook her head and they both left, running to another targeted taxi. She felt pity for them, doing such menial work at tender ages. She fumbled through her backpack and produced her iPod plugging the earphones in her ear. She slouched on her seat and let the music, emanating from the iPod take her into another realm, where she built her castles in the sky.

‘Honey, we’re here.’ Her mother gently tapped her. Adaora realized she must have fallen into a light sleep. She alighted from the taxi, not bothering to help her mother with the luggage. She took a look at their surroundings. It was quite clean and peaceful, unlike the other parts of Lagos she had just seen. The road was tarred and the houses were all storey buildings with flats. The neighbors were beginning to peek out their windows to see the new arrivals.

‘Nwuye anyi! Eeh bata goh?’ Adaora turned around to see whose lips the strange language was coming from. A fat woman ran out from a black gate in front of them, engulfing Adaora’s mother in a warm embrace.

‘Is this our baby?’ the fat woman had asked Adaora’s mother, pointing at Adaora. Adaora was enraged to hear someone refer to her as ‘Our baby’. Did the fat woman know how old she was? She thought to herself. Before she could dodge, the fat woman had already wrapped her arms around Adaora, nearly knocking her out of breath as she hugged her. Adaora felt like a toad in snake’s coil. She struggled to get herself free, and when she finally did, she mumbled a hello. The fat lady laughed, saying she spoke like an American.

‘Chisom! Agatha!’ The fat woman had called at the top of her voice. In less than a minute, two teenage girls on low cuts came forth through the black gate. She ordered them to carry their luggage into the house. They stared at Adaora and giggled. The fat lady led the way to their flat. The rest followed her lead.

Her flat was middle flat and the sitting room had been stuffed with old brown chairs. Adaora could make out a wedding picture on the wall, as well as many other family and individual pictures which hung on the wall. She saw a family portrait of the younger versions of the two girls whom she had earlier met; the fat woman, whowas holding a baby boy in her arms; and a man sitting by her side. Adaora then realized the fat woman was the mother of the two teenage girls.

Her mother sat on one of the brown chairs, discussing with the fat woman. The teenage girls were sitting in the dining room. She could hear them talking in whispers.

‘Go and chat with your sisters, oh.’ The fat woman said, making her last word sound like a question. Adaora wondered what sisters the fat woman was talking about. Had she gone crazy? Adaora thought to herself. The fat lady, sensing Adaora hadn’t understood her, pointed towards the dining room.

She felt uneasy about going to sit down with the girls, and first thought of objecting, but the firm look on her mother’s face made her give it a second thought. She turned and walked to the dining room, aware that the girls had stopped whispering.

‘Uhm, hi,’ Feigning a smile. ‘I’m Adaora.’ Her British accent made her name sound like ‘Add-raah’.

The eldest of the teens smiled sheepishly. ‘My name is Chisom,’ she replied, in a heavy Igbo accent. ‘And this is my junior sister, Agatha.’

‘Could you please, direct me to the restroom?’ Adaora asked, smiling back.

‘Ehh?’ the two girls replied in unison. Adaora repeated herself, adding the word ‘toilet’ to her sentence. They both nodded their heads and giggled, pointing their fingers to the first room by the left.

The toilet housed the bathroom as well, but she didn’t mind. She felt relieved to leave their presence, although she wasn’t at all in need of the toilet. She stared at herself in the mirror, brushing her hair back with her hand and wishing she could teleport herself back to London.

Still lost in her thoughts, someone knocked on the door. She tried to flush the toilet, so the person at the door would think she had just finished with the toilet, but not a single drop of water came out. She tried again but got no result.  She gave up and unbolted the door.

‘Aunty, good afternoon.’ A little boy ran into the bathroom as soon as she opened the door. He went straight to the toilet, without closing the door, zipped down his shorts. She looked away in disgust.

She didn’t want to go back to the dining room where the two girls were. They were fascinated by everything she did, and Adaora didn’t like it. They made her feel like she was an alien from mars.

She decided to listen to some music from her iPod. But first, she needed to go to a quiet place, to fully enjoy the bliss that came with the music. She wanted to be anywhere but not in the presence of the girls, who spoke less but stared and giggled more.

She came back to the dining room and sat for a while before she asked them for the room where she was going to be sleeping that night. She followed their directions and came upon a room with her luggage in it. She threw herself at the bed. Glad to finally rest her body.

That night, neither Adaora nor her mother could sleep. They both had to share a small bed with barely enough space for two souls to lie on. The weather was extremely hot, as though that wasn’t enough; the invincible and invisible midnight mosquitoes gave them no rest at all.