I sat there, looking at nothing, just lost in my own miserable thought; not even the constant noisy footsteps of the lots could distract me. Was it pain or anger I was feeling? Was it regret, or was I just being emotionally dramatic; I had said the same thing to her last week when she complained fervently of the new me, the stranger she could no longer tolerate. I took my mind off my thoughts for a few seconds to observe the people seated with me in the waiting room; different races all waiting to board the airplane out of the country. I took notice of some blacks sited at the far end of the room with some policemen around them; probably they were for deportation. I thought to myself, “At least they have left nothing behind; they have not labored for decades only to leave all that they have achieved behind, like me.”
I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and took some pictures out of it, I stared had at the first picture of myself, my British wife and my two lovely kids, Fernandez, 9 and Stephanie, 11; we looked so happy. I put it under and looked at the second picture, my lovely, magnificent mansion worth millions of dollars, my sweat. It all seemed like a dream to me until the judge announced her verdict; i lost the house to my wife, alimony? I hated everything British from that very second. Despite the heavy taxes imposed on me, I was still able to pull through and now what...they took it all away like a candy out of a toddler’s hand. No, a tear did not roll down my cheek, no! Where the hell did I keep my handkerchief?
“...all passengers for flight 3-6-5 should please get onboard...”
That was my flight just been announced, I stuck the pictures into the wallet put it into my back pocket and grabbed the handle of my big travelling bag and got to my feet, the only luggage I had on me. Down the aisle I walked, just hours away and I would be back to my country, back to Nigeria, to the family i... no! I have just one family, my wife, Regina and my two lovely kids. Was I not leaving them behind? Did I not become a stranger to them? Or rather, did they not become strangers to me? All of them. How did my life turn out this way? Did I not see it coming? I have to take back what was mine, my family...the other family I left back home...i am going back to them and they have no choice but take me back; they have always cried to have me...
Few minutes after takeoff, I leaned against my seat with my eyes closed trying to shut off my emotions by taking a nap; only God knew how much I needed sedation at that point.
“Hello, I am Frank...” that was the voice of the passenger seated next to me. I did see him sit down; he looked so happy, so accomplished, heavy smiles on his thin face.
“...can you hear me sir, I am so happy to be heading home back to my family, I have been away for nine long years, I can’t wait to have them in my arms once again...” he blabbed on. If only he knew how long I stayed away in this country before getting to see my family again two years ago...twenty good years.
“...how long have you been away from Nigeria?...” I remained silent. “...there is nowhere like home you know, the thought of reuniting with your...”
I opened my eyes, irritated by the blabber.
“What did you say your name is again?” I asked with a straight face, the smile on his face grew wider; finally he has my attention, so he thought.
“Frank, Frank Chuk...”
“-Frankly speaking Frank, I don’t care. I don’t care about whatever you have to say, I just want to close my eyes and nap this journey through. Thank you.” I leaned back and shut my eyes. I could sense him retract, with a frown, maybe.
I was glad when it was announced by a hostess that we were in Nigeria, about to touch down. My ass felt like steamed beef, and my legs, stiff. I had no doubt my family would be waiting for me at the airport, I had informed Emilia, my wife, of my arrival. I could imagine the smile on her beautiful stressed face, I could not wait to announce to her that I was back for stay; she would be so thrilled beyond imagination, answered prayers she would say. As we taxied to a stop, I could feel Mr. Frank’s smile widen to the extent that it could have forced me out of the window...if that was possible.
At the Arrival, it was emotions at its peak; lover reuniting, husbands coming back to their wives, tourists happy to finally be in their dream country; tears and laughter, public display of affection, hugs and kisses, so much...if not too much. I saw Mr. Frank’s eyes widen with joy, he lets go of his many luggage, dashed towards a woman, short and not in any way close to what I would refer to as beautiful. She ran towards him, a little boy behind her, a replica of Frank; no doubt his son. She jumped into his arms, he spun her three-sixty, they laughed and kissed, nobody seemed to care. I walked slowly past them.
“Hey friend, this is my wife, the woman I have been telling you about.”
Truly, he did yap on and on about this woman that I had to swap seat with a young, lone man who had no problem sitting next to a happy chatterbox.
I couldn’t ignore his call, I looked over my shoulder and nodded with a fat faked smile and continued on my way.
“Nice meeting you sir, been a pleasure knowing you. God bless you.” he called after me.
“God knows you know nothing about me, but I know everything about you.” I said to myself. “...one of the most unpleasant meeting of my life.”
After waiting for about an hour in the airport with no one coming for me, I decided to head outside the airport and maybe take a cab home. As I walked, I thought of several plausible reasons why Emilia did not come to pick me up from the airport. Sadness came upon me; maybe the usual Lagos traffic jam had got her trapped.
I felt something sting inside of me; a pang of jealousy, maybe envy...envious of the man who had made my journey almost a traumatic one; he had his wife and son there, waiting for him hours before arrival. And that is why I have always placed Regina above Emilia, she was always there to receive me and show me love in the most romantic ways ever...until she changed.
Standing outside the airport, struggling to ward off several cab drivers pestering me for a drop, I sighted my car, the brown kia-rio I had let my family use, it pulled to a stop some meters away, I recognized the plate number and hurried towards it with immeasurable joy in me, my heartbeat tripled. I knew she couldn’t disappoint me, she loved me too much to do that, and the kids too.
I got to the car and a man stepped out from behind the wheels, my old gateman; how the hell and when did he learn to drive? This is a great improvement, I thought to myself.
“Hey, Abdu, howdy? You look great.
” I said, trying to get the passenger’s door open, to help my wife out of the car...the windows where tinted.
“welcome oga,..” he began with an accent. “...madam husband say make I come pick you come as madam dey busy for house.”
.................
I must not have heard right.
“madam what?!”
“Madam husband.” He repeated. I froze.
Chidera Reginald.
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