The Airbus A319 touched down on the runway of the Murtala Mohammed International Airport.
Outside of me — I listened half smirking, yet fondly, to the familiar clapping of passengers every time a Nigerian flight lands.
Inside of me — I struggled to hold back my usual tears of joy and relief.
Relief.
Living abroad, away from most of your loved ones, and in a climate different from one you’ve always known, comes with all sorts of emotions.
They are not active emotions for me. I go through the rituals of work routine, socialising, making friends, going to mass, numerous trips to cafés, concerts, etc.
For me, the emotions sum up into those tears of relief that come every time I arrive in Lagos.
The relief means that I smile inside at things that we Nigerians complain about — the clapping, the heat, the disorder in the airport, the noise, the essences of our Nigerianess.
I get ready to have the time of my life, which Nigeria always promises and delivers.
…..
I don’t know when it happened.
The flight to Bristol always feels quicker than I expect. The Bristol airport always seems cold, wet, and extremely windy.
Some years ago, I woke up as the captain announced the descent of the city hopper into Bristol Airport.
As we touched down, I felt it inside. Could it be? I touched my cheeks and felt it outside.
The familiar tears of relief that came whenever I arrived home.
I was home.
Bristol was home.
Too.
