Bits from My Second Trip to the Motherland
7 January 2025
Ambition
One of the underlying themes not matter where we were- Awka, Lagos, or Obodukwu- everyone was pursuing a hustle. I witnessed people hand constructing leather furniture on the roadside in their shacks. Many were walking around carrying sewing machines on their head and ringing their bell to alert people that alterations were near. And young children were risking their lives to maneuver through traffic on the Lekki expressway to sell strawberries, groundnuts, chin-chin, house decor and any other random goods that could earn them a few naira.
An Ancestral Homeland
Within recent years there has been a trend in the Black American community, where people make trips to Africa and call it “homecoming”. A sort of pilgrimage to understand their roots and the essence of black culture/life in the diaspora. And similarly, during my stay in Awka we constantly had reasons to visit the village whether for a funeral, house warming, my uncles cheiftancy ceremony, etc. All of these events were located at or around the “Obi”, the house that my grandfather and his brothers started their families and legacy. This tiny house is maintained by the elder who was chosen to maintain the land, and I learned that when he dies his son will take over the responsibility. Cousins, siblings, elders will flock to this one sacred site for important occasions. Its a beautiful thing to see that this tradition is still alive.
A Fresh Start
I think that starting my year in Nigeria has consistently been the reset that I’ve needed for the past two years. We always come during the winter (in NE U.S.) So it’s dark at 4pm, the weather is cold/wet/ and gloomy, I spend more time indoors, and less time socializing. Its just a recipe for seasonal depression! Then I get the opportunity to feel refreshed in a place that is so vibrant. I don’t have to beg for a crumb of direct sunlight on the face. Instead, I get to enjoy 90°F heat, wear dresses, and eat fresh coco and papaya off the trees. All while adding more and more gems of cultural knowledge that my father, uncles, and aunts share with me. (Its very therapeutic). It helps me actually feel like I’m stepping into a new year you know. I leave home, break up the pattern, get away from old triggers and cues, and when I come back its easier for me to commit to new habits that I’ve decided for myself.
The Paradox of Luxury
It’s so funny how most people have this one image of Africa and that it’s just poverty, poverty, poverty. But when I visit Nigeria I experience more luxury than I do in the United States. People have drivers, they have house keepers, an abundance or fresh and healthy foods, they get clothes custom made, etc. I even went to a funeral where the water bottles had customized labels with the deceased’s portrait and a quote. And there are people with the idea that there isn’t even access to clean water!*1
The Community
But the true luxury in my opinion is the sense of community. How people still turn up to your house unannounced expecting nothing more than a good conversation for a little while, of course no one wants to be that available all the time, but there’s still something sweet and nostalgic about it and the cost of community is a little bit of discomfort here and there. Its unbelievable to me how my family is so connected with everyone in their area. Someone recognized my dad after having not seen him for almost forty years as we were driving on the road, but they still got on as if he were neighbors with them ot this day. The most impressive part is that my aunts and uncles also remember the generations that came before them in such detail. “This is my grandfather’s third wives first born son and this is what he did in this life blah blah.”( Like what?!!!! Just say it’s your uncle because I’m never going to remember that. The family tree that automatically populates in his head is impressive nonetheless.)
Food
As a pescetarian in Nigeria, sometimes I just had to tough it out and have a little bit of white rice and plain stew while the rest of the family decided on goat meat pepper soup or chicken and beef soups. But when I had my way, the food was so good. I’d have spicy fish suya, barbecued catfish with yam fries, smoked fish stew, spinach stew, pawpaw, and akara. I had egg sauce and yam every morning I could, and was extra lucky when it was paired it fried plantain. Getting to Lagos was when I could occasionally give the rice and stew a break! Thank God. After getting back to the U.S. I didn’t even want to blink at another grain of rice. In Lagos, we dined at one of my favorite spots Slow, a Latin-West African fusion restaurant. They had fruity cocktails, scallops, truffle infused quinoa, and a live band that did jazz renditions of R&B classics and Afro-beats. Major vibes and good food! Going to the grocery was also so fun because I could stock up on zobo/bissap, yogurt, snacks and other specialty things that were less common in Awka.
- Although, I understand and acknowledge that people who live and work in the United States can afford to exploit their dollars and the cheap labor to live a cushioned life in Nigeria. The wealth disparity is very drastic with the rich and dirt poor, with barely any people in between, it’s unfortunate but very real. ↩︎
My wishes for my next trip are that I’ll be able to explore more of West Africa, like Ghana and Senegal, and maybe have the confidence to practice a bit of Igbo!
