You can remember the second and the third and the fourth time, but there’s no time like the first. It’s always there.
— Shelagh Delaney
A lot of hesitation to documenting this experience has built up since it happened but I have to tell it, no matter what, because it frees my soul and marks a moment in the story of my life. It was my vacation in Lagos from 20th -24th March 2021. My good friend Segun was launching a new collection of magnificent dresses on Sunday, 21st and he graciously paid for a round trip. It would also be my first time flying and boy was I excited. This was a much needed experience; The University of Nigeria, Enugu Campus had started to seem like a lot to handle.
I boarded a God Is Good bus to Lagos on Saturday the 20th that was scheduled to arrive at the Ajah Park. It was a better idea staying with him before returning to the mainland where my parents lived. I didn’t want to arrive Festac, then head out to the island the following day. That would be a waste of money and a lot of precious time due to ‘Lagos Traffic’. Arriving Lagos and seeing the intense hustle and bustle reignited the hustling spirit in me. Memories of passionately selling home made Hibiscus Drinks popularly known as Zobo flooded my mind, planting a smile on my face. Enugu contained a fraction of that energy Lagosians had.
It would be my first time in Lagos since 2019, what a damn homecoming! Except that I wasn’t hosting a glamorous show like Beyoncé did or returning with a shit load of cash.
The journey was smooth, but imagining all that could go wrong kept me at the edge of my seat most often. These thoughts largely came from my experience, having been by Kenechukwu, my friend who lost his eldest brother in a ghastly road accident. The slightest abnormal swerve, sharp turn or road bump encountered scared the hell out of me, causing beads of sweat and knots in my stomach. It was one of the most uncomfortable 5 hours plus of my life.
God is good Transport Company seemed to have lost their touch because my bus that was supposed to depart by 7am ended up leaving by 7:40am. On top of that, I found out I was over charged for that trip which was supposed to be N10,640 but ended up paying N11,200. I initiated contact with the management via twitter and promises were made and as at Thursday, 1st April 2021, the difference was reverted. Lagos had changed much. I observed Epe had become busier than it used to be when I last visited in 2015. The rush for real estate there is really hot and early birds would sit pretty in due time.
Thankfully, there was no heavy traffic on our way to Ajah. This city and heavy traffic jams are like the Nigerian Government and corruption that are synonymous and that’s a major reason I abhor the thought of settling down here. I could visit on vacation, to see my family and for business but lol, it’ll be difficult to wrap my head around settling down there.
Segun’s new collection was a delight to behold. A tasteful curation of beautiful fabric, details, Nigerian strength and sexiness of the female lagosian. They were swathed in class, and audacity. I had the best time mingling among the best creative minds across film and media, art, and high fashion. They all looked expensive, with silk and body cons all up in my face. I’m not really a dresser, comfort and functionality does it for me. That’s why I donned my Jalabia (a unisex gown popular amongst muslim faithfuls) gracefully, I wouldn’t be pressured. We partied till late in the night, drank a few and smoked a few with my limits in mind. My trip to Festac the following evening , was all smooth till we arrived at the Apple Junction-2nd Rainbow axis. Brethren, the traffic was locked with insignificant movements and I was ‘offed’ (slang for shocked, popular among Nigerians) few minutes later when the Uber driver, showed me a message cancelling my ride because according to management, a ride that lasts way longer than scheduled, will be cancelled and drivers are asked to drop passengers at safe locations. I met this with long minutes of arguments because I needed to vent on somebody and the poor driver was the only one. I made it difficult for him, telling him that I wasn’t paying him a dime till he took me to my destination but in the end, I had to get out, it was getting late.
At Apple Junction, the sight of hundreds of people, seeking motorcycles (popularly called Okada) to take them to their destinations made me livid. I was ‘offed’ again when I saw a pregnant lady sitting by the side walk, looking exasperated. Then a switch went off in my mind, the Lagos boy in me woke up and I joined the hustle for Okada. An unfortunate fellow tried to cop the one I hailed but I changed it for him (meaning that I scolded him in harsh tones and strong words) then he backed off after uttering the usual threats of thugs all over Lagos, ‘e be like say you dey craze’ (meaning ‘it’s like I’m crazy). I didn’t get on the bike, but I stood my ground and that gave me so much joy.
Tired of waiting for another, I picked up my heavy bags and started walking forwards hoping to cover some distance and if I’m lucky, get a bus or a bike. Eventually, an empty mini bus plying the 21/23rd route of Festac, came up to where I was and trust that I pushed people aside in order to claim a spot. In situations like that, no one waited to queue up. It was literally the clash of titans. Again, I was pleased that I indeed, I hadn’t lost my Lagos boy touch.
From 3rd Avenue Junction, the one by 21 road, I took a bike home. My brother Ebuka was there waiting for me with N100 change to pay the bike man. It was such a great feeling walking through the street of A close again. The bad sewage system that terrorized us in the past had been taken care of, House 2 had been sold to a Christian ministry and it broke my heart because it seemed like Mrs. O’s efforts in raising her kids were wasted. House 7 had changed a lot! My goodness!!! It looked nothing like what it was before and it made me so happy. Deep down in my heart, I couldn’t wait for the day I would pimp my parents’ house like that. My wonderful nephew, Chidubem opened the gates for us and oh what joy did it bring to my heart seeing him again. He had become so big!
Seeing my parents later that night, filled my heart with gratitude especially as they enjoyed the cashew nuts I bought for them. Streams of love, cleansing, fortification, strength and grace characterized the moments I spent with them. A more underlying reason for wanting was to see them before they would pass on for some reason. I wouldn’t forgive myself if my parents left this world before I got a chance to see them again.
The weekend Kenechukwu lost his brother was truly difficult for him, especially because he was the first to be contacted. I understood little of his pain because of my experience losing my eldest brother too. And visiting his mom the day after, made my heart sink as I embraced her. He eyes were laden with pain no one could understand. I wanted to help, to tell her something that would ease her pain but I was in no position to do that. I had never been in those shoes but my mother Achalugo was, she had buried two children. Her last daughter in 2015, then her best friend and son in 2019. She was the real MVP. And so I thought again about what Mr. Famose of the Navigator’s Nsukka said to me while I grieved. He encouraged me to pour my pain into writing, to make something beautiful out of it, something that could help people grieve healthy, and recover with strength and hope to carry on.
I will do that soon, but I wanted my mom to begin hers. 2 years down the line, she radiates even more strength, sustained optimism, and beautiful grace. The moment I got the idea, I called her, and she bought it but only if I would come around to help her. That was it! Another reason to go home. We did it in the end, we spoke, and I recorded the conversations on my phone. On the side yeah, I make it a habit to record my conversations with her. So whether it’s in person, or over the phone, I record and I always thought she wouldn’t think I recorded her when I pulled out my phone.
While we spoke about other matters different from documenting her healing process, she would stop at some point and ask me to stop recording and that was when I knew I wasn’t so smart! Haha! It just makes sense that after Achalugo is laid to rest, I and other generations of Onyemeh children would be able to hear her dish timeless truths, wisdom and practical advice. One of them that i recently began to understand is that in my relationships, I shouldn’t close in on saying that I would never forgive someone. She always encourages me to leave it open, to say instead that it would be ‘difficult’. She would also encourage me to use the good things someone did for me to move past the pain they caused me. Amongst others, she would encourage me to take things one at a time in order to attain mastery of all I set my hands to do, a mother truly knows her son but wasn’t happy that I had to leave so soon. She treated me to the best meals, worthy of a king.
Tuesday got spent in a flash. I spent most of the day at Computer village, Ikeja with my brother Ebuka getting a laptop. The traffic jam we experienced on our way home again, reinforced my decision to be in the city for business or pleasure, and never to settle down because I could die in an ambulance or get crushed by a container. Even worse, by a trigger happy armed officer.
My flight to Enugu Ibom Air, Flight Q1 0600 (HK) was scheduled to leave 7:50am the next day so I had to be at the airport early enough for check in. It would be my first time flying so I was super excited but nervous too, mainly because of the recurrent thoughts that I could actually crash and that would be it. My life would be over.
It was difficult to not fall into the comparison trap seeing people get checked in expressly at the VIP/premium queue. Something in me desired to be treated like that, and boy will I get there! Again, I fell into the comparison trap by trying to diffuse my joy/excitement when I came across people who I suspected to be frequent flyers.
Check in was smooth, my luggage wasn’t excess and I was asked to proceed upstairs to be checked in again into the waiting lounge. To get there, an escalator was the fastest way but my scared ass wouldn’t take the risk. It was while on the queue that I and my beloved brother bid goodbye. I deeply hungered for the day we would switch roles, I would bid goodbye to him and he would be on his way out of the country. He was the Di’Okpala Nna now, and a lot of expectations were on him. I got talking with a stranger while in the lounge; he was a business man with a chain of successful ventures. Our conversation fortified a mindset I already formed. And it was that money was it all, it would give you a soft landing after university, options of going abroad and the much needed ability to live a good life. We rose to grab some light refreshments, coffee for me, green tea for him which he graciously paid for and then we made for the bus that took us to the plane. It was a small one, and I found out later that it was a bombardier jet when we landed. As we rose up the stairs, I was given instructions to my seat, 22D (would never forget) but out of excitement, I forgot it and went to a wrong one which I was eventually asked to leave and back to my original seat.
My seat partner was a really hot Lady with a great body and as the flight progressed, I figured out she had a great personality. We spent about 30 more minutes after I took my seat, probably waiting for passengers who hadn’t boarded to respond to the boarding calls. It was during that time that I got talking with Mmesomma my seat partner. She was an event planner with side interests in skin care. Apparently, she had an Easter event coming up and I swung in to solicit for odd jobs like ushering, or even working as a PA which she took into considerations and promised to hook me up. Take off was next and boy was that scary. I found solace in M, telling her that this was my first rodeo and we laughed it off. At least it was better than pretending but being scared as fuck. She was the ultimate gist partner! My goodness we talked about life as lagosians, the struggles with traffic, exorbitant prices and armed robbery. It was a beautiful beautiful experience while on air. My excitement grew as the houses below became tinier with each feet gained into the sky. I felt like a god hovering above my subjects.
Before I left Enugu, I borrowed a suitcase from my good friend Sedoo of the Navigator’s ministries worldwide. Let me just say that I bless the day I met Sedoo, and everyone at the Nav’s, including Mr. Famose. Sedoo was excited for my flight and finally hoped that I would realize that there are things I don’t have control over. Those words rung louder in my head as we gained a stable altitude. I felt utterly powerless and began to play certain scenarios of how a plane crash would look like. It dawned on me that such things could actually happen to anybody, that something could go wrong and my name & pictures would pop up as victim of the ill-fated flight. I made peace with God, gave my life over and over again just so that I could secure a spot in Heaven because I strongly believe in Heaven and Hell, and the grand judgment. Bursting through the clouds, and seeing nothing but a vast expanse of white all around gave me a fresh perspective of the Creator. The universe is an excellent body of work. There was peace at that height. Like there wasn’t need to worry about anything. How do I describe it? It’s like, nothing else seemed to matter. Flying at that height has ingrained POSSIBILITIES in my mind. So right now, when I think that there isn’t a way out of a situation, I remember that flight, the clouds and the peace I felt. If man could think of and perfect air travel, then nothing is indeed impossible.
At some point the conversation between M and I faded, leaving me to bask in the hums of the plane. A weird sound from the back got my heart in my mouth and I also noticed the obvious concerned looks on other passengers close to me. That weird noise lasted about 10 seconds and everything was back to normal. Trust me to capture some moments but that was before take-off because we were asked to turn off our devices.
Before entering a plane, I always fantasized about sharing every moment on social media, expressing my genuine happiness. But I got a change of heart because it wasn’t worth it. It was okay to post a photo or two and not a collection of memories! It would create more enemies, and people, including my helpers might think I’ve achieved some sort of financial independence. That informed my decision to post just 2 photos, check-in and boarding. The rest, I flooded my family Whatsapp group chat with it, every damn thing.
Landing was smooth, except it was really long and worrying an when we finally stopped taxying, the first flight attendant directed the descent of the set of passengers nearer to the pilots while someone else handed out lunch bags. I received mine with thanks from the attendant and was drawn to say hello to the pilots but was too damn timid at that point.
M offered to give me a ride home but my good friend Marsa was already waiting, then we said our good byes and promised to keep in touch. Chief was already out of sight. Baggage claim was smooth, and walking out from arrival? Boy I felt on top of the damn world! I entered a fucking plane yo! My heart melted when I spotted my good friends, Marsa and Uche and at that point, I promised to return the favor someday. It wasn’t a small sacrifice to get on the road that early to come pick me up and I don’t take that for granted.
