A Long Overdue Farewell

I actually left Nigeria over a month ago now, but in order to surprise a friend at her hen night, I decided not to post anything about it. And then, the hurtling pace of life in the UK just kind of took over and I forgot that I had unfinished business on this blog.

I’m sad to have left. Every now and again I feel a sudden and real wave of sadness at everything that I no longer have in my life. The people: my friends, who will always be friends but whom I know I won’t see again for many years; those beautiful, beautiful children who are now gradually forgetting who I am; the people on the street who were so friendly and full of laughter and who would hand me their babies or chat to me about their lives. The general joy of life: the sun and the warmth; the laughter, everywhere and always laughter; the pleasure I was able to take in everyday tasks at an African pace of life. The calm, and the space and the time to really live life.

And it’s not just those big thing I miss – it’s also the little things. Like the food, and the fact that there are toothpicks with every meal, and taking okadas. And having a fairly limited choice of what to buy or cook or eat – it’s overwhelming to have so much variety!

And then there are the things that I don’t exactly miss, but I’m finding it weird to be without. For instance, I still find it strange that I can have the window open at dusk and not worry about mosquitoes. Or that I don’t have to worry about my laptop’s battery running out of charge. And I wonder how long it’s going to take me to see a twig or shoelace on the pavement and not have my immediate thought be ‘snake!’. I’m having to remember what it’s like to live in the UK – what constitutes a meal, how to move in a busy London commuter crowd, how to work a washing machine!

For the first couple of weeks, I really didn’t want to be back here (although it was amazing to see my friends and family again, to eat mushrooms and to marvel at just how wondrous a thing the NHS is). Now, a month later, I can’t say that I’m wholeheartedly excited about being back here, but I’m getting used to it. Which, I suppose, is how it felt when I first got to Nigeria, so I’m hoping with time I’ll fall back in love with my own country. The trouble is, part of me thinks that it might actually be the case that I’ve been shown a way of life which is ultimately better, closer to the fundamentals of life, and that it might be impossible to ever feel comfortable in any other world.

Nevertheless, I remain hopeful that Nigeria has worked its way into my system, under my skin, and that I will take something from that experience into the rest of my life. I think it has probably changed me in ways that I can’t even see at the moment. Not the dramatic “I’m going to go and live in a hut for the rest of my years” sort of change, but a deeper, more subtle shift of how I view the world and live my life within it. And for that I will be eternally grateful.

So farewell, Nigeria; I can’t thank you enough. Sai watarana.

(PS This will be my final post on this blog – thank you for listening, and goodnight. If you are so inclined, you can follow me on Twitter @jennyfawson)