Posted: February 9, 2012 in Uncategorized

Murtala Muhammed International Airport Lagos (courtsey Nigerian masterweb daily news )

“Attention all passengers, please take your seats, we have not yet completed our landing process. The captain is still taxing. Please take your seats! I repeat please take your seats.” I chuckle to myself as I hear the German female flight attendant struggle to take control of the situation. Her pleas fall on deaf ears as my country men, male and female, young and old, snap off their seat belts and hurry to their feet; as though a prize awaits the first person to step their feet onto Lagos soil. In the midst of the chaos, I myself, choose to stay in my seat; not because I’m particularly an obedient person but I like to be the last one off the plane, to ensure I get a chance to rummage under the seats and make sure I have all my belongings with me. Virgin Atlantic is still owing me my first digital camera…sigh…but I digress.

“Good evening all”, a voice booms over the intercom, “this is your captain, Captain Kirsch. We are at our destination, however we do ask that you please stay in your seat as we are still taxing to our gate”.

The conversation that ensues next is one that I will never forget:

“Won so pe ka jo ko” (The pilot has said we should sit down).

“E ma da won lohun jare se won fe gbe mi de enu ono ile mi ni?” (Don’t listen to them! Does the pilot want to drop me right at the door of my house??!)

As I hear my neighbours dismiss the pilot’s instructions so flippantly I burst into a fit of laughter. Really? Really? So, for some reason this individual has determined she knows better than the pilot?! Wow.

At this point, the aisles are filling up with people struggling to take their bags from the over head cabin, with lone passengers like me still tightly tucked into our seats. “Sister, sister…please pass me that my bag, its in the cabinet on top of your seat na”. I realize I’m being prompted to get off my butt and join in the, do I dare say, madness.  I’m this close to retorting to the man, “Why can’t you follow instructions?” but instead I refrain myself from engaging with him and simply pretend as though I didn’t hear him. As people continue to struggle with their bags, and maneuver themselves into the stagnant queue, granted no one will be leaving the plane until doors of the plane are opened; I resolve that experiences like this are almost only unique to my people and that I am truly back in Nigeria.

I’ve been back to  Nigeria now for a number of months now. When I talk to friends, they always ask me, “How has your move back been?” I always feel like I’m “cheating” them when I say, “it’s fine” or “I’m learning”, or “Abeg…get me on the next plane out of here!”(I kid, I kid). Anyway, those answers all fall completely short of the truth about my back-to-naija experience. It’s not that easy to explain. The Nigerian experiences are…well…hmmmmm, what’s the word….(still thinking)….hmmm. They are SPECIAL. That’s the word.

Now, I’m not so new to the blogging world. Let’s just say I’ve made a number of attempts at putting my thoughts out in cyberspace. Unfortunately, the blogs died before they even began, with a once in a blue moon visit from….me…the author. I’ve had a lot of interesting experiences in my lifetime that I wish I had documented. It’s on this note that I say its time to officially execute an active blog in the world of blogosphere. No more waiting around. I’m more or less settled into my new (new being totally debatable) life in Nigeria and I am ready to narrate, my many daily special experiences. So, here it is “The Nigerian Experience”. Join me as I blog about the good, bad, exciting, sad, frustrating and best of all, hilarious experiences that I will share with you from my life in Nigeria.

*Disclaimer* In no way am I claiming this to be the daily experiences of ALL Nigerians, this is simply the experiences I, the author has had in Nigeria.