THE DIASPORA JOURNEY

It was a bright day. The sun rays penetrated through the curtains of his house. The birds sang

joyously and even the grasses and tress danced to the tunes. The busy road ahead gave rhythm to

the song and dancing. Indeed, it was a bright day. Omololu, the very first child of his family was

travelling out of the country.

Omololu is an industrious, energetic, black, young man full of life. He has in him the full

Nigerian spirit. To crown it all, he hails from Ondo state, one of the greatest Western states in

Nigeria. His father, popularly called Uncle Brown because of his skin color, a typical Owo Man

and his mother who hails from Egba in Ogun state. Omololu was the only child of his parents

and was loved by them and everyone on their block.

Omololu had just concluded his WASSCE exams and cleared all his papers. He had distinction

in all papers except for Yoruba where he had a C +. He applied for seven different full-finding

scholarships abroad and he got five of them. He was to choose one of them, he chose the

University of Saskatchewan to study the very famous course, Cybersecurity major and

Criminology minor.

He had started packing his bags ever since he knew he was traveling out of Nigeria to Ontario,

Canada, he was excited and joy was all over him. He checked his traveling documents for the

umpteenth time to be sure he had not missed anything out. Luckily for him, as at the time

checked, he had not packed his tuberculosis test paper with other documents. Immediately,

Omololu screamed, “Mum, where is the result of the tuberculosis test?!” “I left it on the bed’s

shelf”, his mom yelled at the top her voice from the kitchen where she was preparing his
sumptuous meal as a “send forth” package. He hurriedly picked it from where it was. “There!

I’m ready for this journey”, he retorted after he was sure he is not forgetting anything.

Mr. Brown, emerging from his bedroom called out, “Omololu, my son, the very one that took

after his father with height and after his Mum with voice, how are you? Are you excited about

this journey? I wish you will not just leave.” As his father hailed him, he felt very much on top of

the world. He was very happy; he feels very proud of himself. Tears rolled down from his eyes,

he blinked multiple times to stop the tears from flowing. The more he tried, the more the tears

flow.

All of a sudden, Omololu jolts back to reality and realized he had not packed his complete

documents. He opened his bag and ransacked it thoroughly to confirm his thought. Lo and

behold, it was missing. His entire file jacket was nowhere to be found. Immediately, all hell was

let loose. His life was flashing before, his entire trip is almost becoming a naught. What to do?

Where will the search begin?

By the time he had gone through the entire house and his documents were recovered, his “send-

forth” package was ready. His meal of steaming hot jollof rice and peppered turkey was served.

He ate every grain and almost the plate. He complimented his mom’s skillfulness in the kitchen.

More of it was packed for him. “Here is more for the journey”, his mom said. He was so happy.

The food was packed and he was ready for his journey.

Omololu hopped into his “Dad’s Maserati”, a shiny 2017 wine coloured Volkswagen four seats

car zoomed off to the international airport in Ikeja, Lagos. In no time, the whole family got to the

airport, joined the queue to usher them into the departure hall. As his dramatic mum stepped her

feet in the departure hall, she rolled on the floor and screamed in her dialect, “Oluwa mi a dupe
rowo re, omo mi a re iriajo lo ilu okun.” Every person in the building fixed their gaze on her.

Omololu was showered with another ray of beautiful embarrassment. “This woman and causing

scenes that are not needed”, he mumbled under his breath to avoid some serious last minute

spanking.

Omololu was to fly with British Airways, that has been on his bucket list for the longest of time

without any justifiable reason. He quickly brought out his notepad, ticked it off his list. He was

two hours earlier than his departure time; he used the opportunity to familiarize himself with the

airport environment. He “strayed” away from his parents and off he went. First, he went from the

departure hall to see those coming into the country- arrival hall. There was a map and since he

was a brilliant student, he was able to find his way around. It was a very big place.

While strolling, he saw one of his friends from school and together strolled around. They went

from the arrival hall and into every nook and cranny of the airport. “Wow, how beautiful would

it be if we had these in an average Nigerian home”, said Omololu’s friend when he saw the

aesthetics of the restrooms. It was really a sight to behold. They almost laid on the floor of the

restrooms asit clean and dry. Having checked the restrooms, his friend got a call from his mum,

he bid Omololu farewell and he left.

“This is the boarding announcement for passengers on British Airways flight BA-17813 to

_______________, proceed for check-in at the check-in counters”, the announcer’s voice blared

from the speakers around the airport. With the speed of lighting, he dashed to the departure hall

for proper check in and documentations. He met his parents trying to give him a call, his mother

gave him a long stern look and said, “so you want this opportunity to pass you by abi?”. She

rolled her eyes and gave a long hiss like every angry Nigerian woman. Quickly, he scurried into
the line that was already formed by other travelers and muttered under his breath, “ make this

mama sef chill. Shey she no know say I be international boy now ni?”

Omololu passed all check-ins, weighed his hand luggage and his spinner, it was the exact

kilogram required and here is the hardest part of the journey- the “separation” of the family.

Omololu starts to cry like a cradle drawing attention of travelers to himself. He cried, hugged his

parents and does not want to leave them again. While in the euphoria of the moment, the

speakers “spoke” again, “this is the boarding announcement for passengers on British Airways,

flight BA-17813 should proceed for boarding. This is the last departure call.” His parents

hurriedly pat his back and encouraged him to keep moving. He reluctantly agreed and off he

went to the restricted areas. Omololu was all alone to a distant land for the first time.

Soon, he boarded the plane, having gone through another round of check-ins, immigration check,

ticket pass and passport stamp. The seat allocated to him was 18-C, an aisle seat. He had hoped

for a seat next to the window so he could see all he saw in home videos. He begged the lady on

that particular seat, 18-A, to swap seats with him and she obliged him immediately. He was so

happy, brought out his notepad again and ticked that part of his bucket list done.

The plane was soon filled up and the captain spoke, “this is your captain speaking, we are

departing Lagos, Nigeria to Ontario, Canada but there will be stop over at Heathrow airport,

London. We have clear skies and hopefully it is like that throughout the journey. Sit back and

enjoy the journey.” The engine of the airplane roared to life and the pilot carefully steered it to

runway 34, taxied and into the air it went. “Omololu goes international”, this was his thought as

the plane ascended into the skies and into the clouds.
After the longest journey it seems, the Captain spoke again, “this is your Captain speaking again,

we will landing at the Heathrow Airport, London. Be on your seat and fasten your seatbelt.

Enjoy the descent.” Omololu couldn’t stroll away like he did the Lagos due to the fear of being

left behind. He maintained his cool and remained with the remaining travelers. They were

checked into another flight going to Canada.

After what it seemed like forever, the checking in traveling to Canada began. He finished his

checking-in and proceeded to board his flight all by himself. There was a great turbulence in the

skies as the journey continued. His heart was literally in his mouth as the plane fought through

the rigours of the turbulence. He held on to the next passenger on his pew and silently prayed.

The passenger who traveled frequently with plane, held him close and comforted him all through

the storm. Omololu curled under the comfort of his comforter. Finally, the turbulence seized and

once again he ticked it off his bucket list.

Upon his arrival in Canada, he boarded a taxi to his already rented apartment. He was happy,

picked his phone almost immediately, called his mom and shouted, “Mummy, I’m here live in

Canada.” The conversation continued for the next fifteen minutes while he sat on the ground and

heartily chatted away with his mom. After sometimes, he pulled the trick of speaking “queens

English” on his mom. His mom with her full Nigerian spirit and always at work in her at all

times, said, “o da wi pe ori awon ara ile baba o pe. O je ma di ad’eko d’ere sha.” Immediately

he saw that it backfired, he apologized and ended the call like a well-trained African child that he

is.

His hostel is an 11-storey building with four wings and so many rooms of different sizes. He was

to stay on Wing C which is known for its crop of people, the good, the not-so good, the bad and

the not- so bad people were all occupants of that wing. For each floor, there were ten rooms each
and his floor was on the seventh floor. The house was without elevator and a ramp, just staircase

so he has to go get his loads one after the other until the very last. By the time he climbed up and

down the staircase about twice, he lost his breath and cussed the engineer and everything that

made him come to Canada. After a while, he packed his stuffs up.

He was impressed with the little furnishing of his room. The room was tiled and the wall was of

marbles. He saw marbles for the first time. He walked to the cushion, felt the soft material –

gentle to touch and made of cotton.

He was tired from the whole journey and needed rest. He laid on the sofa and drifted into what

seemed like coma.

After so long, he felt a tap and heard a familiar voice, “Lolu! Lolu! Wake up, wake up, it is time

for school.” Omololu dragged himself to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and had his bath. He

was excited he will be starting a new phase, wore one of his “Christmas clothes”, carried his

backpack and he was ready for school. His mom out of annoyance called him back and shouted,

“what is the meaning of this?!” Lolu, after it dawned on him, he ought not to be in Nigeria but in

Canada, he ought to only speak to his parents electronically but look at his mom in her full form

shouted, “I was dreaming all along. God, why now?”