“Nne, give me your hand and climb up” my mother said to me.
I didn’t know what the time was, but I knew it was early. So many people were at the park, more than enough to fill up the buses, but the conductors still shouted at the top of their lungs- “Owerri, Enugu, Aba, Abakaliki, Asaba.”
Boxes of different sizes and shapes were clustered around. Bags of rice, foodstuffs, and bags twice my size were lying around. My 9 year old self did not understand why people needed to buy rice from Lagos back home. Did they not sell rice in their villages?
“Daddy, why are these people carrying rice to the village? Don’t they have rice in the village?”
“It’s because it’s foreign rice and has good quality. E jenu inwe nivo- They won’t have it there.”
My father was exiting the bus to make sure our things were secure too. We were also going home with rice but I didn’t notice.
I was dressed in my favorite dress at the moment. A purple long sleeved gown with a teddy bear on it. I wore sandals as my 8 year old brother too, but mine was deep blue and his was brown.
I had never been in a bus this big. My mum called it a luxi. I could easily fit through the windows. The bus was noisy as many people cackled and discussed like this were not the first time they were all meeting. They threw in an occasional stay quiet to their children running in the bus. I didn’t run around like them, I was content to sit on my aunt’s lap and watch.
“Only God knows when we’ll move today” my aunty says to my mum.
“Asin eehh. Ndi luxi na manu igbu oge- This luxi people can delay.”
“Aunty, kpo onye gala- Call the gala person. Nne, iji taa gala?- Nne, will you eat gala?”
“Yes mummy.” She asks Buzo the same thing and he says yes. He didn’t say no to these kind of things. My mum would always say we wouldn’t remember the important things that we needed to, but the minute it had to do with ive a na ta taa- the things we would eat- no one would remind us.
The ultimate traffic meal is lacasera and gala. It’s the second or third best thing after rice, yam and eba.
We were going home, and I was determined to stay awake all through the trip. It was the first trip I would remember as our previous trips home were in my parents’ memory, not mine. I was going to stay awake, but sleep and I were best friends. I was only to keep my eyes open till the bus finally finished loading and we were set to move. I managed to stay awake through the prayers of safe journey by the chosen prayer warrior family on the bus. By the time we left Ejigbo, I had fallen asleep in the warmth of my aunt’s arms and the soft breeze from the window in my hair.
I panicked about sharing this. I felt a series of emotions from nervousness to impostor syndrome to just do it now😂, and I choose to go with the latter. So, on the 11th of September, I will be hosting a one day workshop on creative writing. The class will cover:
– Introduction to creative writing
– Description and imagery with words
– Characters and much more.
I will be teaching all I know so far about creative writing and starting out in it.
The class is FREE, but you will need to register and you can do that using the link in my bio. After registering, you will receive an email containing the link to the workshop group.
I’m excited to have you .
Registration ends on the 10th of September by 12pm and slots are limited because the class will be super interactive and very practical and I want to be able to talk to everyone.
So register now and grab your slot!
Register at nnewrites.disha.page
Meanwhile, I’m back from my blogging break😁😁😩. Who missed me??!!