Chapter Seven
In the morning, I woke up with excitement, eager to see my relatives today. Peering through my bedroom window, I observed the hazy light of dawn. We had already packed our luggage the previous night, but I still went around the house to double-check that nothing had been forgotten for our trip. I let out a soft sigh of relief when I confirmed that everything we needed was ready and waiting for us. So, after enjoying a breakfast of akamu and akara, we would set off for our village.
Following our satisfying meal, we boarded a bus and embarked on our journey to the village. As the bus slowly traversed the busy road, I gazed out of the window, counting the rows of cars lining the way. The traffic was heavy due to the multitude of people leaving Owerri to reunite with their families and enjoy quality time together during Christmas. Despite the complaints about increased transport fares and the congestion on the road, the importance of being with our loved ones outweighed any inconvenience. For the sake of our cherished family members, we were willing to endure any hardship.
At that very moment, the familiar landscape of my village flashed by, filling my heart with joy. The baby pink sweater I wore perfectly complemented my smooth, brown skin, adding vibrancy to my appearance. I let my long, dark hair cascade down my back in curly waves, and my younger sister Ella looked adorable in her black jeans and white sweater adorned with a cute cartoon dog. While Ella was undeniably sweet, people often remarked that I possessed a certain beauty surpassing hers.
The anticipation of seeing my beloved grandmother, who doted on me, filled me with uncontainable excitement as we neared home. Along the roadside, various shops proudly displayed Christmas dolls, trees, and ornaments, creating a festive ambiance. The night sky sparkled with fireworks, painting it in a breathtaking array of colours. Children gleefully played with firecrackers, and I delighted in the joyous sounds they produced.
Soon, we approached a police checkpoint. Old tires and sandbags lined the road, leaving a narrow passage. A dark-skinned policeman signalled our bus to halt as we approached. Our driver wore an expression of discontent upon seeing the policeman stopping him. However, without uttering a word, he retrieved a hundred-naira note from his pocket and handed it to the policeman through the window. The policeman smiled and waved us through.
It saddened me to witness how the police officers were solely interested in collecting bribes from drivers, without bothering to check vehicle documents or conduct searches. I couldn't help but ponder the morality of bribing them or the option of fighting against this corruption. However, nobody seemed willing to protest, as the overwhelming desire was to reach home, including myself.
When the bus stopped at the junction leading to my village, we disembarked amidst the bustling crowd and hopped onto motorcycles, known as okada, heading towards our compound. Along the way, we passed a young man who playfully hoisted his daughter onto his shoulders, allowing her to grasp at a mango leaf above before gently setting her down. Excitement filled the air as children played, some singing Christmas songs, while others threw sticks at udara trees.