sitting at the airport in paris waiting for my connecting flight to lagos. meant to write about my trip to nigeria before it began but as i have yet to touch african soil i guess this still counts. i haven’t been to nigeria in 17 years, when i moved to the u.s. at the age of 9. i have optimistically been looking forward to this long awaited trip but as the day grew closer i began to feel quite anxious. it’s be probably a mixture of excitement and also to the fact that i am facing an unknown.

in response to my trip to nigeria i have elicited one of two response- 1. you’ll have fun, people will take you out and show you a good time. 2. why are you going? don’t get your hopes up.
ok let me back up, there is usually a third response from friends in general which is a bit of awe, some asking to be taken along as and of course have fun. the previous responses were those from nigerians or those of nigerian decent who are american born/bred. don’t get them wrong, the latter of the first responders mean well but to a certain extent feeling so far removed from the country and the culture the desire to visit isn’t there so my excitement is strange.

i don’t blame them though, I have few family there, even less friends, barely speak my language [getting ready to hear that commented on a million and one times. sigh], have been spoiled by living in the states for so long but with all that said i remain anxiously excited. though i have few memories from my time long ago in nigeria, this might as well be my first time going. let’s hope i don’t come off too touristy, lol.

it’s 9:25am in paris, plane begins to board at 10 [can we address how painful it is to be in paris and not actually get to see it!]. lagos here i come, here’s hoping for a great 2 weeks.