Lagos to Kano. Three days. Five buses. One backpack. No plan beyond curiosity.
I was running from a breakup and decided the best medicine was movement. I was wrong — you cannot outrun yourself — but the journey gave me something else entirely.
Person one: Mrs. Patience, a trader from Ondo who shared her jollof rice with me somewhere between Ibadan and Abuja. She was 62, had never been on a plane, and was more at peace than anyone I had ever met.
Person two: A 19-year-old boy named Emeka travelling to Kaduna to meet a father he had never seen. He rehearsed what he was going to say out loud for two hours. I listened. I still wonder how that meeting went.
Person three: A retired soldier who fell asleep on my shoulder and apologized so genuinely when he woke up that I almost cried.
Person four: A woman who sold boiled groundnuts at a junction in Niger State who told me — unprompted — "Young man, stop running. Whatever is behind you will still be there when you stop." She looked at me like she knew.
Nigeria is enormous and complicated and frustrating and miraculous. I came back from that trip with a full heart and the understanding that no algorithm will ever replace the randomness of real human contact.
I was running from a breakup and decided the best medicine was movement. I was wrong — you cannot outrun yourself — but the journey gave me something else entirely.
Person one: Mrs. Patience, a trader from Ondo who shared her jollof rice with me somewhere between Ibadan and Abuja. She was 62, had never been on a plane, and was more at peace than anyone I had ever met.
Person two: A 19-year-old boy named Emeka travelling to Kaduna to meet a father he had never seen. He rehearsed what he was going to say out loud for two hours. I listened. I still wonder how that meeting went.
Person three: A retired soldier who fell asleep on my shoulder and apologized so genuinely when he woke up that I almost cried.
Person four: A woman who sold boiled groundnuts at a junction in Niger State who told me — unprompted — "Young man, stop running. Whatever is behind you will still be there when you stop." She looked at me like she knew.
Nigeria is enormous and complicated and frustrating and miraculous. I came back from that trip with a full heart and the understanding that no algorithm will ever replace the randomness of real human contact.
Comments
51Join the conversation
Login to Comment