Chapter 4: CHAPTER 3
KIKIOLA ONABANJO
I alternately paced around and sat down at the departure lounge. The long wait made me feel so restless. A mixture of boredom and unease could be sensed in most passengers; Only the older folks seemed relaxed, perhaps they were highly experienced in this sort of waiting.
After an hour delay, we were summoned to board the plane. What a great relief. At last, we were going to take off.
I stood up from my seat and joined the end of the queue at the departure gate. It was very irritating to see passengers, especially adults jumping the queue. Could it be that there is a prize for arriving first on the plane? Or did they think they would be denied entry if they were the last to join the queue?, I couldn’t help but wonder why people exhibit such behavior in public.
After a long wait, my turn came. I handed my boarding pass and ID to a gate agent next to the boarding gate. He looked at them swiftly and gave them back to me. I then headed to the hallway that leads to the plane.
A few weeks ago, I received notice that I have been admitted into the economics program at Ahmadu Bello university in Zaria, a city in the state of Kaduna, in Northern Nigeria. On my first visit to Zaria, I perceived that Northern Nigeria is a predominantly Muslim community, the same way Christianity is most prevalent in Southern Nigeria. I couldn’t help but wonder, how would a devout Christian like me cope in a Muslim society?. Well, I would arrive in Zaria within an hour, therefore l shouldn’t anticipate.
As I stepped aboard, I looked at my ticket and at the seat I would be sitting in. The interior of the airplane was elegantly decorated; it was large and spacious, with luxurious seats.
I walked down one aisle in the airplane until I got to Row 23, I found the seat number on the arm of the chair. Fortunately, it was a window seat, nothing beats the luxury of glancing out the window and taking in the views.
I took a seat and a middle aged man sat next to me. He was dressed in a black long sleeve kaftan with matching pants and a traditional woven cap. The kaftan style is popular in this region that it is by default, the most common dress that the male population uses.
A loud, soothing voice came on the intercom, welcoming us on board and requesting us to fasten our seatbelts. We all obeyed the rules.
Another announcement was made then the plane began to taxi away from the gate and soared in the sky. I looked out of the window and enjoyed the panoramic view.
The landscape appeared very attractive. The buildings seemed like small toys and the trees looked like tiny plants. The seas appeared to be small drains of water. As I was gazing, the air hostess came over and offered me a drink and some snacks.
My mother left my father when I was six years old. We both relocated with my younger sister to Oklahoma in the United States. The reason
my Mother left my dad was solely on conjugal violence ranging from verbal abuse to beating her numerous times.
After my mother raised us single-handedly in Oklahoma for eleven years, my dad pleaded and asked my mom to move back to Nigeria, and she agreed because she was wanted us to have a father figure in our lives.
My father had me apply for a degree program at Ahmadu Bello University when we returned to Nigeria but my mum obliged because she is a deeply religious Christian and the university is a Muslim School but he insisted.
" Border Force officers shot dead by intruders along Sokoto border, " The man sitting next to me said, reading aloud from the newspaper, " This is an indication that the people’s safety is not guaranteed "
The statement he made diverted my attention from my thoughts. What a bad news. Is it safe to go to school there?. I would have to find out from him.
" Excuse me, Is the north safe at the moment? "
" I’m sorry, I didn't catch that " He responded.
I guess my accent must have been influenced by my long stay overseas. I should pronounce my words very clearly, slowly and distinctly to enable my listeners to grasp what I have said.
" I said, 'Is the north safe at the moment?' " I spoke very slowly and clearly so he wouldn’t miss a word.
" The North has been experiencing insecurity as a result of tribal conflict but not the whole north, some northern states are experiencing peace, " He replied, " Where are you heading to in Kaduna? "
" Ahmadu bello university, Zaria "
” Zaria is a safe haven for most northerners; being an ancient city, recognized in historical annals as a jewel of education "
" Yeah, My dad said the same "
" Where are you from?, are you a Nigerian? " His tone is curious and teasing.
" Yes, I’m a Nigerian " I let out a little laugh. I’m used to being asked this question.
" It’s a lie. Your own yellow is different and you don't even sound like a Nigerian " He stared at me in disbelief.
" I’m a Nigerian! " I said assertively .
The man talked excessively about the genesis of the ethnic violence between the Fulani and Hausa tribes. He talked so much that I felt like I was drowning in a sea of words. In no time we reached our destination, and our plane began circling over the airport. The landing was very smooth and comfortable.
I waited patiently in my seat as the front rows of passengers made their way out through the narrow cabin door then I got up from my seat and exited the plane.
As I walked through the terminal, I saw some people heading towards different numbers of gates. There are huge screens displaying the arrivals and departures of flight at every turn. I then walked down hallways to grab my bags from the baggage claim.
The sound of my suitcase wheels dragging on the floor carries down the hallway as I headed to the taxi stand - just a couple of taxi drivers standing next to each other
" Where are you going?! " A taxi driver asked, grabbing my attention and steering me away from his competitor.
" Zaria. How much is it?! " I asked in a loud voice.
" 5,000 Naira " He replied, " Are you going? "
" Yes "
The driver walked towards me, collected my suitcase and got into the trunk. I got into his red Toyota Camry and he started up the car then we zoomed off.
I switched on my phone and dialed my mom's number. The phone rang and she picked it up.
" Hello, I tried to reach you on the phone, but I was unable to get through "
" I arrived a few minutes ago. My flight was delayed for an hour "
" Oh, so where are you now? "
" I’m on my way to Zaria. I got a cab from the airport "
" Okay. Have you spoken to Folu? "
" No, I haven't spoken to her yet. I’II phone her when I arrive in Zaria, " I replied, " I heard that Northern Nigeria is experiencing insecurity as a result of tribal violence "
" There is some truth to that but not the whole north. Zaria is safe. Likewise, The university is so prominent that majority of the students are from upper class families, " My mom clarified, " The northern elites won’t allow their children to school there if it wasn’t safe "
" Mom I told you earlier, coming back here is a bad idea. Nigeria isn’t safe. The quality of life I enjoyed overseas is better than that which I’m experiencing here. "
" Gbenu sohun " — " Shut up, " My mom said in Yoruba, " Nigerians would not discriminate against themselves within their national walls. Being discriminated against abroad for being black - that level of hurt is severe. There is no place like home dear "
" All right, mom. I will call to let you know that I arrived safely "
" Okay, Bye " She hung up the phone.
We got on the Kaduna-Zaria expressway and I began to feel the increasing speed of the car.
Based on my travel experience, I could tell that the roads in the north were far less weathered, therefore they were much more comfortable to travel on unlike the south.
After a thirty minutes drive through rural roads leading through green hills, we arrived in Zaria city. The driver asked me for my destination. I showed it to him on my phone, he nodded and drove off to that address.
I dialed Folu’s number and she picked up the call immediately.
" H-hello, " She said, " Where are you now? "
" I’m on my way to your place. Are you at the hostel? "
" Yes, I’m expecting you " She said with great excitement.
" Okay " I replied and hung up the phone.
The car came to a halt in front of a large block of flats. I handed the driver his money and got out of the car. Folu came close to me, gave me a tight hug, and helped me carry my suitcases into the hostel
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone