Okantomi

I stared out of my window seat dreamily as I was admiring the golden sun peeking out of the fluffy clouds. One hand cupping my face and holding my weary face up, I rested my elbow on the armrest waiting out this long-drawn-out flight.

I've been sitting on my ass for close to an hour with a bothersome baby crying making it impossible to have any shape or form of quiet.

The person in the seat next to me was quite peacefully reading a book that seemed to be about architecture and art. He read his book intently; his mahogany eyes moved left to right beneath his classic black circular framed glasses.

His skin was a beautiful tawny brown. The sun shone on his magnificent skin illuminating all the sharp plains of his face. He was mesmerizing.

He turned his head, "umm, can u stop staring at me it's kind of distracting me." he asked

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" I said snapping out of my trance.

"Don't worry it's fine, if you wanted to talk you could've just asked instead of burning lasers through my head," he said turning his head to give me a full view of his perfect face

"So, what do you want to talk about" he inquired.

" well If you don't mind, what is the book you're reading called it looks really interesting? ", I said looking straight into his eyes,

" it's called the long and laborious history of art and architecture. "

"It sounds very interesting," I said sarcastically, low-key regretting my decision. "Sound shit, right? "

"Yeah, it sounds really bad like uni course workbooks" I admitted

"So why are you going to Nigeria? and don't tell me anything to do with helping with the water issue for some water aid type stuff", I joked.

" Oh, I'm going to be an architect there so I'm moving there for universities. So why are you going? " he replied

"To visit my family over there and do this rite of passage ritual" I shared.

"I know this is odd but do u want to exchange numbers, you seem interesting, and maybe get to know you better" he requested. And obviously, I agree cause it would be a disservice to both of us if I rejected him and it would make for an awkward rest of the flight.

"Yeah, definitely" I chimed running my hair through my hair and taking my phone from my backpack. And we shared our numbers.

The remaining 46 minutes of the flight were quite relaxing and enjoyable since I and the guy I met (Ahsan) had been talking for the remainder of the journey till we had to part ways at the end of the arrival.

after watching him go I whipped off my phone and scrolled through my limitless contacts till I found my grandmother's (Adaego) contact and called her. She wasn't very good with the technology of today so I called her instead of texting her to save us all the hassle.

"RINGGGG, RINGGG", my phone went; I held it up to my ear waiting for her to answer.

"Hello", my grandmother replied in her thick Nigerian accent, "Who is this ?"

"it's me, Okantomi" I chimed "where are you I've arrived at the airport .which pick-up station are you in?"

"Pick up 8"

Immediately as she told me where to go, I exited the building into the humid, thick air of my homeland from the mediocre air conditioning of the airport. wasted no time taking in the urban scenery and searched for her.

My suitcase rolled on the gravelly sandstone and my backpack bumped into my back as I walked speedily. I passed many cars driving within the speed limit, twisted and turned around the various islands containing people waiting for their cars. People hurried into their taxis,m minibusses, and family cars eager to enjoy their holiday and family time.

finally, after 10 minutes of walking, I reached pick-up lane 8. I scanned the pickup lane for my petite, youthful grandmother .thankfully it didn't take me long to spot her. I began walking over to her and Omotayo. I meandered between families, couples, and chauffeurs trying to get to my family and ride.

As soon as my grandmother spotted me she embraced me in a constricting and loving hug while she bombarded me with questions like"how was your flight, have you eaten, hope it was comfortable?" Simultaneously Omotayo loaded my luggage into the family car while my grandmother ushered me into the backseat. two of my younger cousins were sardined next to each other on the black leather car seats.

a few seconds later Omotayo and grandma Adaego got into the front seats and started the car. We drove around the same twisting and winding road we had to enter.

Many cars drove slowly around trying to get out of the airport pick-up station as well as trying hard not to cause an accident therefore it was heavily congested and tight only allowing the car to move a few meters until we had to stop again. this went on for around 20 minutes until we reached the busy streets of Abuja

For the next few hours, it was smooth sailing by Abuja's standard, with no crazy drivers, minimal traffic,c and finally hawkers coming at the most convenient times (when I was hungry).

Me, my cousins and Grandma caught up with me and how I was doing in Canada with my Uni degree in Engineering, my tutoring, and social life in general. I had to admit life was pretty hectic but I've improved since last year.

last year id has been struggling with depression and anxiety ever since I witnessed my friend's murder .it was a traumatizing experience coming back home from my side hustles to find my friend lying cold in the snow in December.

snapping back to reality, we pulled up to the wrought iron gate and waited for the gateman. he hurried out of his watch station to where the lock was located and scrambled to undo the lock and pushed the gate open.

the car drove in and parked at the side of the house.

I was home .

we dismounted the car and enter the magnificent house.