Chapter 1. Leaving Home.

"Tobe, it seems like you've forgotten that someone is waiting for you at the park", my mother said packing up my bag.

"Mummy uche'm Diya,"¹ I replied and wore my shoe.

I'm Tobe and that morning, I was leaving for Lagos to Ghana to start up a life.

After the deadly Coronavirus, I lost it all in business and wanted to start something afresh. My cousin came back, so mum advised me to join him and start something there.

Well, it's sad to say that apart from business and Cybercrime there is no well-paying Work for youths in Nigeria, especially with the 'Get Rich' Syndrome that has eaten the minds of a lot of youths.

Since my business failed and no hope of getting support from anyone including the government, and I don't support cybercrime, moving to another country became my only option.

I stepped out to hug my sisters who were awake to bid me farewell. My dad hugged me and I must confess, there is this spirit exchange when parents hug their children and for a long time I felt that spirit in me.

Mom was a strong woman. Even without looking at me, I saw the pain in her face. It was not easy for her to let her Only son go to another country where he will start his own life.

"Be focused in all you do. Even if he tells you what you don't like, just keep quiet and respect him. Remember why you left home and also know that a good name will always open doors for you. I trained you well and I didn't train an alcoholic; don't get there and lose focus Tobechukwu." Mum said as we walked down to Orogwe park where I met my cousin, Ndidi.

Mom and Ndidi shared pleasantries before she left and we got into a bus heading to Onitsha where we will get a fast and cheap car to Lagos state.

My journey to Lagos was a beautiful one. It was my first time travelling to Lagos by land and I enjoyed every bit of it. I refused to eat snacks to avoid getting pressed and getting myself embarrassed, so I held in the hunger.

We got to Lagos at night after over seven hours. Ndidi was too sharp and experienced with the environment, so we picked a motorcycle and drove to Mile 2 under the bridge and got into the car heading to the Seme border.

Believe me, Lagos is a wild place to live. I had travelled to Lagos a few times but spent most of my time in my hotel room. I got out my phone when we got stuck in traffic and the driver, adjusting his inside mirror, asked what I was doing with my phone out in traffic.

"I want to call someone sir", I answered him.

"o ba wa Mad ati Karachi?² Do you want to get us robbed here?", he said angrily.

I had to pocket my phone immediately and my cousin gave me a stern look. I know he insulted me in his first sentence but I was wrong.

We got to the Seme border. Cars were searched and lights went flashed in from bright torchlights, by police officers and each checkpoint was settled by Our driver until we got to the last.

Ndidi brought out a card and called the number, a few minutes later two motorcycles arrived and picked us up. My rider asked if I had laptops in my bag, I said no, which made him speed up. I later learnt that it was to give someone else to cross for me to prevent the Police from collecting more money from me.

We were stopped by a pot-bellied policeman at a checkpoint; he allowed us to pass after he was settled by the riders.

It was then I got to know that people actually lived in Seme; all my life I thought the area was restricted but I was surprised to see a lot of houses on the border.

We were searched by young Benin immigration officers and allowed to pass; they were still settled by our riders.

Finally, on the last lap, I had to come down and push the old rusty motorcycle so it would ride through the white sharp sand on the Benin border which I've always read about. Being close to the water, here was where Africans were sold and said goodbye to their motherland, while heading to a land of no return as slaves.