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Monday 22 February 2016

This Past Valentine ... Experience of a traveller

I was really hoping my first Valentine in Nigeria since I left many years ago could have been my very good retreat as I just needed some sleep to rest my mind from all the adjustment that I've had to do in the past week. Nothing more, nothing less. So, you'd understand my shock when Shola called to inform me that the gang was hitting the beach.

"Huh, What gang?" I asked, and as I expected, he went on to call Diobi, Jamal and Terngu and their several partners, all old friends from secondary school. I hate being the third wheel, the insignificant other - I thought. But really, deeply I knew I needed the chill and just some good relaxation, I'd gotten tired of being alone, and much more on a day like that.

So, I quickly rose to my feet as I aimed for the bathroom. Within seconds I was done washing up. As soon as I was done, I hurried for the car, and left within minutes. Well, factor in the maddening Lagos traffic and the many red-clothed people that I'd have to see, I was exhausted to say the very least. I always have to be the single one on every valentines.

As you'd expect, the 'gang' was all there and Lord, the sun was something else, which makes me to wonder how I survived my early childhood in Nigeria. Well, I was without a doubt dehydrated and drained from all the fumes and traffic.


As I approached them, I thought I saw something in a bottle sticking out from the mist of the ice cubes in the flask, you'd expect me to hail the guys before reaching for it, but no, I reached for it even before reaching for my self.

I opened it, gulping it ferociously, without grace or any of those little weird things my mum told my sisters to imbibe while growing up, and in that second, everything seemed fine, settled and familiar. The sun had stopped burning, the breeze blew coolly and my racing heart slowing down as as I sipped my last gulp.  I was finally in love, I'd finally found something invigorating and refreshing about Lagos, I'd finally had a drink of La Casera. I had finally gotten over America. And I was home again with La Casera. 

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