Excerpt

Pumped with nostalgia and patriotic anticipation, Ndomupei comes back from abroad to resettle in her country of birth, joined later by her husband Chigs. She is taken aback by the pervasive corruption and rent-seeking behaviour lurking in most national offices, souring the national flavour and making ordinary citizens accomplices in their own oppression. Her personal life is not spared. Anchored by familial love and unity, she is challenged to reconsider the fulcrum of her home front. The secrets among key support and inner circle threaten her inner peace. She navigates betrayal, death, and daily reminders of the need to forgive. Can Ndomupei forgive? Will she ever forget?

aAs I awaited my bags, I saw individuals that I could easily identify as employees of the state in the airport but who were just moving around as though there was something they were looking for. Others were sitting like pythons waiting to strike as they analysed everyone who came through. I couldn't help but note this surveillance for what it was. While waiting, a man came directly towards me.

"Are you Muriel who's going to the home of…" the man mentioned a high-ranking political official.

I didn't respond with a yes or no but rather asked, "what did you require?"

He responded, "Auntie, I'm the one who was sent to pick you up. Please show me your bags and I can take them and we depart."

I answered, "Unfortunately I am not her. You made a mistake," being reminded there and then that we were not equal even for something as simple as being picked up from the airport. I started looking up at the observers' lounge where people generally wait for incoming flights. I was looking for my younger sister who was supposed to come and meet me. I could see all the people above clearly even those who were behind windows. When I finally spotted her, it was the same time she spotted me. I grinned, put my hand in a fist and shook it as had been our habit. She was holding a white hat which she waved from left to right. No-one who knew us could ever question our love for each other. When my bags arrived, I put them through the security scanner and proceeded to exit. In front of me, I saw the man who had been looking for Muriel whose luggage appeared to have been taken from an entire department store. She had over six suitcases. It was proof that some land at the airport as though they are going to their grandmother's home while others, like me, do so worried about harassment from officials. And just as I thought this, a Customs official came to me, in the manner that Professor Enzeneiyo had talked about and interrogated, "where are you coming from?"

I was annoyed at being stopped and the manner of questioning but I did my best not to show it. I was further annoyed that this man had just let someone with a lot of bags through and now he was asking me a question without even the basic decency of greeting me. But I answered softly, "Boston."

He looked and asked again, "where?"

Either he had never heard of the city or he wanted me to repeat myself.

I replied a little differently, "Boston, in America." A person working at the airport needed basic knowledge of geography.

He enquired again, "What's in these bags?"

"My clothes and my books," I responded gently again.

"And how long have you been away from home?"

"25 years although I have often come for holidays but now I'm coming to stay so I was getting a returning resident clearance thus my delay since I have more luggage coming through," I responded.

He started asking enquiring what electronic goods I had and there would be a payment if it was more than permissible. I informed him that I had electronics within limit as required by law.

"Open your bags."

I started looking for my key and after finding it, I opened one suitcase which he went through and then opened another that he ruffled through in the same manner.

"So what electronics do you have?"

I was getting angry but still spoke gently and smilingly, "sir, I already mentioned I am coming home to stay so a lot of my stuff will follow, as I already mentioned. I'm not here to visit, I'm back to stay." He was anxious to have me open even my hand luggage. Then he ordered me to pay a fine because I had two laptops.

I refused reasoning that there was a laptop and a tablet. We stood like that for a while like two black mambas waiting for the other to strike first. He insisted and I refused and demanded to speak to his supervisor.

As the supervisor came, I overheard him asking his junior, "is she stubborn or is she stingy?"

"Stingy," the underling replied.

In my mind I told myself, "you too are the hard-headed ones making it difficult for people like me to return home happily and harassing travelers here at the airport."

When he got to me, he smiled and I thought he was being deceptive but after a little chat, he agreed with me and commanded his junior to let me go.

I would have appreciated it if he had corrected his junior colleague in my hearing so that I could be sure what had happened to me would not happen to someone else but I had to let it go so I could get home.

My joy at coming back home had been diluted. This was not the reception I expected on getting back to a home I was proud of. I was shaken at being treated this way on returning to my country. I had expected to be welcomed with warmth and happiness for coming back while others were leaving the country in numbers. These officials were not like that. I was coming from a place where I was treated like a second class citizen on account of my race and I may not have liked it but I excused it because it was not my home. Now here I was at home where everyone looked like me and I should have just blended in but here I was being stressed before even spending one night in the country. Meanwhile I also reminded myself how whites born in this country were treated with respect and wouldn't have been put through what I encountered. I had bile in my mouth at this sort of stupidity where people are so mentally colonised they can't find it in themselves to respect those who look like them when this is the only home we have. There needed to be a tutorial for this lot on black being beautiful.