Friday, 2 November 2018

Coming Back to Africa


It's 3.am, and I am awake, safely strapped on my seat, waiting for the plane to descend.

 My eyes are wide open, heart racing like Usain Bolt, mind lost in grandma's words.
"We would go to the Oba's palace during the Nchakah Festival and dance round the streets of Omoku during Christmas."

Grandma loved to reminisce about her happy moments back home before she was cargoed across the sea. The tales of her trip made me cringe yet her wish to return home made me smile.

Postmortem, Grandma is coming back to Africa - in the body of her granddaughter.


© Ajumoke Nwaeze. October 2018.

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