Eeeeeekkkkk! I’m melting! I’m melting!!!!!!!!!!
Oh my gosh did I die in transit? Are these the fiery waiting rooms of hell? They must be. It would explain the suffocating heat, noxious smells and the surge of people trying to step on my beautiful Kurt Geiger clad feet. Watch it sister! These are limited edition bejeweled gladiators I’ll have you know. Bought at full price and £79.99 no be joke. Not even sure why I am bothering to explain this to you …are those original Liverpool street market sling backs you’re rocking? Thought so. My style is so wasted on the masses. Anyway I’m way too hot to be giving style challenged sister tips. I’m soaked to my Spanx(I am endorsing your product and I expect to be paid because I don’t see why I should have to pay £30.00 for the privilege of being tortured to fit into my jeans) and I need to get out of here. Where’s the blinking exit for crying out loud? Wait! What was that? I just felt a cool blast of air. Where’s it coming from? Oh my gosh! There it is … My knight in glossy white armor. Come to Mama.
Ah! Thank God. Cool, refreshing air. I can feel my skin regenerating and plumping out. My once frizzy weave is soaking up the cool moisture and becoming all slick and bouncy again. I’m starting to feel like Mena again. Like maybe I didn’t make a mistake packing up my stuff and heading home. Maybe things won’t be so ba…
Great! What now? Can’t a woman enjoy air conditioning in peace?
“Excuse me madam I am talking to you. Can you please explain to me why you are attempting to mount Nigerian Airport Authority property?”
“I’m sorry?” Fine; I might be straddling the cooling system but I have a perfectly good reason. As I said before I am wearing spanx and anyone who’s ever worn one of those bad boys knows they get pretty darn hot. Especially if you’ve had them on for over 10 hours and then get thrown into a freakin heat wave. I need to cool my tushy and I have no intention of explaining to anyone in a badly ironed uniform that 1) I need to cool my burning loins and 2) my sexy figure is not all au naturel. I shall ignore the commoner until he goes away.
“Sorry for yourself. I say tell me why you are trying to have relations with an air conditioner belonging to the NAA?”
“I beg your pardon officer. I am doing no such thing. I am a soon to be tax payer and I am merely prevailing myself of the facilities my taxes will be paying for. Now if you don’t mind, I am trying to get better acquainted with the Samsung E300 cooling system. So run along like a good little airport official and go catch someone trying to smuggle in Primark’s spring/summer collection. Look, here’s something for your diligence”
“Wetin be this?”
“It’s a 2 pound coin silly. Uuuuhhh…Look how shiny it is. Now don’t spend it all at once (Cute girly giggle. That always gets them)”.
“Madam!!! I beg enough of the grammar and dismount from our AC immediately before I have to call for back up.”
Oooooohhhh! I beg this man should go away jare. Not only is he messing with my flow, he’s also starting to cause a scene. There’s a crowd starting to form and I can already see a sweaty, ample bosomed, bubu wearing mama eyeing up my AC. I can hold my own in a street fight but this mama looks hotter than I do. I am not sure if my freshly chilled limbs can muster up the necessary Kung fu moves to stop her dead in her tracks should she make any kind of attempt to overthrow me as the current head of state of the AC. Anyway, God forbid anyone is going to move me from this AC until I am good and ready. Even if I haven’t paid any tax yet, my father has been paying it on my behalf for the past 20 years. So this AC is as good as mine. In fact where is the plug sef; this baby is coming home with me.
“Yankee. Charlie. Bravo. Come in. Na me Ejiro. I require serious back up in the arrivals terminal. Over”
“Bravo. Charlie. Yankee. Na me Jimoh. Wetin dey? Over”
“Na one woman wan damage our new AC wey Fashola just send come.”
“Chia! Na lie?! Enemy of progress. After 10 years of standing fan she wan come spoil better thing. She dey craze? Abi na those boys from Nigerian Port Authority send am come because dey no get?”
“I no know o. She just dey lomance the thing. I beg dey come and bring like 2 other boys with you.”
“Ah ah! Wetin dey? Sebi na woman? I beg deal with her and stop disturbing us.”
“En na woman but she big pass malu and me I never chop.”
“Ah! our AC don finish be that. We dey come”
“Madam I have called for backup. So if you like yourself I suggest you come down and start going before we decide to arrest you. So now, before I count to 3.”
Me? 3? Do I look like a 5 year old or who is he counting for? It’s good. Let them come. We shall see who really owns this AC today.
Mennnaaaa!!! Is this really the way you want your new life in Lagos to begin? Remember what we said about anger management before we left?
Oooooohhhh…rational side of my brain, leave me alone o. Let him count to 3 now and then we will see how well I manage my anger.
Remember it’s your anger issues and impulsive nature that finally left you no choice but to come back home? So let’s think hard about this…do we really want to pee of airport officials so we can start off our first day back home in jail?
I ain’t scared of them!
I know you’re not but think what would happen to your brand new glad’s if they get taken off you in jail. You might never see them again.
Ok! There was no need to bring the glad’s into this. Fine, I will disentangle myself from the AC but it’s not because of them or anything you said. I just happen to be tired of straddling the darn thing.
That’s a good girl. Just keep sliding down. That’s it; you’re almost at floor level. No, no…ignore the crowd’s jeers of “Orobo you wan break am?” Just pick up your little drag along suitcase and walk away. No, no…don’t try and collect your 2 pounds back from the airport official. That’s a good girl. Just head towards the sign that says Immigration and luggage.
God save them that I did not want to run the risk of someone stealing my luggage or else they would have needed a crowbar and a blowtorch to pry me off that AC. Anyway it’s not their fault. It’s mine for deciding to embrace my spirit of adventure, chuck in the UK and head for pastures new. And to think my mother tried to warn me…
"Hi Mum! Great news. I’m coming home".
"Why? Have you met a man that you are coming to introduce to me and your father"?
"No mum. I..."
Click... Please tell me that woman did not just hang up on me?
"Mum what happened? Is something wrong with your phone"?
"There is nothing wrong with my phone. You just weren’t saying anything that interested me. Abi at my age should I not be getting phone calls from my daughter who is over 30 that she has a boyfriend or that someone has finally decided to give her a new last name ? Abi you think the one you have now is your own? It’s not o. That one is mine and I went out there to find a man to give it to me. So please stop disgracing me".
"Mum for goodness sake will you stop harping on about this hubby thing. It’s not my fault that I haven’t met a man worthy of being my hubby".
"Really... I should stop harping on en? No problem. Carry on with what you were saying. You want to come home abi"?
"Yes mum. I’ve managed to get a job. It’s not awesome and so not at the salary scale I was expecting but hey it’s a start. Anyway I figure it will give us a chance to hang out and stuff".
"Hang out? You and who? I am too busy going to other people’s children’s weddings to hang out. Anyway are they giving you a house with this job or where are you going to stay"?
"Of course I’ll stay at home with you and Dad".
"Which home? You mean MY HUSBAND’s house abi? You want to come and enjoy my own husband’s generator, food, water and DSTV on Dolby surround sound wide screen TV, whilst you are saving your own mystery husbands money for him abi? I don’t think so".
"Mum he might be your husband but he’s still my father".
" See this alakoba child. Did I say he was not your father? or you want your useless village aunties to come and do family meeting in my house? He is your father that’s why he’s fed, clothe, put a roof over your head and sent you to school. But you have now graduated, worked and provided for yourself, so my husband’s job is now done. So if you want come home prepare to fend for yourself. There will be no free ride. You have been reading Genevieve and you think Nigeria is all Aunty Funmi hair and parties abi. You don’t know anything yet. Anyway if you are staying with us then it will be under my terms. Also you have 3 months to bring a man home to me and your father or else you better start looking for somewhere else to stay. I have said my own".
This is why I have issues.
I’ve only been in the country half an hour and Mum’s already winning the torment Mena battle. Oh well at least I’m almost out of this blasted airport. Gone through Immigration and now all I have to do is wait for my 7 suitcases, go through customs and find my way home to the loving arms of my family. I can’t wait to start living the good life everyone’s been talking about. Yeah right! What the hell have I let myself in for? Oh well it’s too late now. Lagos here I come.