Let me tell you about... my first days back in Nigeria

I was excited to journey back to Nigeria under the assumption that things were moving forward. Though my assumptions were correct, the pace is unbearably slow. Coming from a country that has already established its pace and desperately tries to follow it, I was naïve to think that Nigeria’s progress would be in the same galaxy as the United States. My naivety began when I landed in Lagos, I was not bombarded by greedy immigration officers making it difficult for me to pass through the arrival line. However, the moment I made it to customs, I was immediately asked “aunty, do us merry Christmas now?” I politely said I had nothing to give. Though a little forward, I was not surprised nor was I upset. As I scanned the crowd to find my Aunt, I was disappointed that the eating options near baggage claim was minimal. I was more disappointed at the appearance for the gateway to Nigeria. The floors were dirty; the walls had chipped paint or were just plain dirty. Brown was the color of the day. It was disappointing. This is the first thing foreigners see when they enter the country and it was surprisingly an accurate representation of the nation. Brown, dirty, and chipped. One thing about Nigerians, they don’t pretend. They don’t pretend to be a put together nation, you get what you see. The nation is flawed and it shows in our infrastructure, our technology and our way of life.

Moving on, I finally found my Aunt, we made our way to the car lot however we were bombarded by people begging for money. It was extremely disappointing. People did not even give you the chance to settle into the country before they began bombarding for money for one organization or the other. Once again, an accurate representation of the nation. We do not sugarcoat things. Once you arrive, you must get used to the Nigerian way. The country does not stop for you to play catch up or learn the ropes. You are thrown into the trenches and expected to fend for yourself. You can either sink or swim. If you swim, you have a chance of survival, however if you sink, you’re sunk.

After maneuvering past the hordes of beggars and sellers we made it to the car, there more people wanted to “help.” In the sense that they will receive a tip from you after “helping.” We refused help but they were persistent, we told them we had nothing, yet they persisted and at the end asked for money. I could not help but laugh and think to myself “who send you?”. Once on the road home, I noticed that I could never drive in Lagos. The roads were crowded with cars, buses, kekes, okadas and trucks (tankers). There was no clear demarcation of lanes, traffic rules seemed to be suggestions not law. Vehicles maneuvered in and out of lanes with no regard for the other drivers. With all of the reckless driving, the roads were horrible. The main roads were okay but the inside streets were not made for smaller cars. The potholes, the size of the road, and the hordes of people selling and walking made it extremely difficult to move freely. As I sat in the car, excited to be home, I couldn’t help but wonder what I had gotten myself into. My reservations were validated when my aunt told me that they had not had light in months. What? What do you mean you have not had light in months? I thought you all where on a day on, day off system? What happened to that system? So do you still pay a light bill? Oh you do, so there’s no light from the power company but you still pay a bill? Oh okay!! So I’m going into darkness? Okay not to worry, you have your generator right? Oh fuel is too expensive? So no generator? Oh you still have the generator but only for a few hours a day? Sweet baby Jesus!!

We get to the house, I am greeted with light and the soothing sounds of the generator. Thank God your gen is on!!! I get upstairs, shower and eat. Immediately out of the shower, I am drenched in sweat. Wait! What just happened? Am I still wet from the bath or is this sweat? Oh it’s sweat? Okay. Thank God the gen is on, yes God for this Fan!! My cousin, her children and my aunt sit and talk for a while as they watch Telemundo. Once the clock struck 10:30 it was time for bed which meant the generator had to be turned off. Okay, no big deal right. Wrong!! I. DID. NOT. SLEEP. The humidity pounced on me like a lion pounces on a gazelle, I was suffocated, and held prisoner of the night. The rechargeable fan in my room lasted one maybe two hours until it gave up on me and left me for dead. I could not sleep. I did not sleep. I sat up waiting for morning to rescue me from this prison sentence. I sat in bed, fanning myself as I pondered my decision to come to Nigeria six months prior to the start of school. I should have stayed in the States until it was time to come but I knew that would not be possible. I had to get used to Nigeria. I had to become a Nigerian all over again. My nigerianess was watered down and needed substance. I had to come six months early. Plus, it’s Christmas. Christmas in Naija had to be lit. J I suffered in silence. Finally, I was rescued, dawn broke and people were up and ready for life to begin. Those around me laughed at me for being too hot to sleep, however they reassured me that I would get used to it. And that’s the problem, people in this country have gotten used to mediocrity and have lost the will or energy to fight.