On Saturday, October 1st, I just got terribly home-sick: there is no place like home, so the saying goes. For the first time in many weeks, I felt like hitting the Murtala Mohammed runway. I wanted to be part of the obvious celebration that was in the air even from the beginning of the last week of September. Nigerians looked forward to this year’s independence celebration once more, as they always did in the previous years (was there a reason for that is the story for another day). Howbeit, all my friends were expectant – some planned to travel and spend the day with their families and loved ones, some planned picnics with friends and loved ones, while others planned to hang out with friends especially my male buddies.
Hmmm … me nko? Wetin I go do on that day sef? Many of my Nigerian folks in the Gold Coast were out of the country on official assignment and hanging out with my friend, Nana and another of her friend (kai, I don even forget her name sef) would not be a bad idea. The hanging out no be to celebrate Nigeria's Independence oh … hia. Nana’s friend is a returnee who wants to catch up with the events that she had missed out during her absence from her motherland and I accepted to be part of that catching-up affair, at least make I no dey house dey reminisce over nothingness. Check am now, except for my relatives in the house who are obviously unavailable due to their academic and religious inclinations, the best I could do would have been to bury my head in one of my write-ups, while my Nigerian buddies were busy catching fun for Naija.
I feel am oh, I no go lie you. So when I accepted to hang out with Nana and her friend, I was hoping to forget the loneliness that would grip me, at least for some hours and get the day rolling by in full speed.
Ok! The arrangement was that this chick (Nana, I mean) would call me up on Saturday morning, and we would all meet up at a particular point and then start our waka. So far, we had two basic things in mind: a wedding and a book launch (by my facebook friend). Also, we promised to have mutual talks on business prospects that we find profitable. I woke up with this bad abdominal cramp (Now, not what you are thinking, see una wakajugbe head …) Na wa oh, I waited for my friend’s call to no avail, so I called her up. She hadn’t heard from her friend either; and actually sounded impatient and unsure. At once, I perceived that it was not a good day to go out – not with the uncertainty in the air and an ailing body, but I seriously longed to attend the book launch, I promised my facebook friend that I would make it.
I was able to steal a nap and waking up an hour later threw me into the greatest fever that I have never felt before in many years … Independence Fever, I call it. First, I felt this depression that made me home-sick as though I hadn’t been in Nigeria in ten years. I suddenly began to imagine my favorite lagos scenes, scenes in my village … I felt a strong urge to dash down to Lagos at least.
When the reverie was gone, I realized how impossible it was for me to make that trip: I didn’t plan to travel and since my family members are mostly outside Lagos, the trip would not be as exciting as it should be. The joy usually was to hang out with my friends and return to my family; so the combo is incomplete. I moaned in my spirit … I shivered as I lay quietly on my bed; locked up in my room the whole day. I began to playback the conversation I had with some of my friends the previous day – the picnics, the trips, the fun-catching events etc, I felt miserable. I took some novels to read but I just could not concentrate. Nigeria on my mind …
Finally, I ate my favorite meal at noon and slept till late in the evening. I woke up refreshed and satisfied – I imagined that my friends in Naija go don shack drink finish; the ones wey travel go don reach house and the ones wey go picnic, go dey on their way home. Well, the independence day was over and so did the fever also. Nana never called back; guess her friend did not call her either. I strolled to the living room and a conversation began, “Nigeria is 51 today: Is there really anything to show for it?”
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