( Only those who wear the shoes knows where they pinch)
Dad, knowing I’ll never see you again is a hard pill to swallow. You were kind and caring, always sacrificing and giving your best to everything and everyone. I can’t believe I’m writing about you in past tense and that you won’t be able to read this and give me feedback.
I remember one of our last conversations, I told you I had lost every hope in Nigeria and how I don’t see it becoming better in another 50-100 years, I told you I don’t see Nigeria as home anymore, and I said “Home is where I am safe!”, you disagreed, you said “home is where you’re from, Nigeria is your home!”. You went on to tell me to be optimistic, you mentioned that you benefited from Nigeria in the past, the free and quality education you got in your formative years was one of those things that made you feel indebted to the country. You felt you needed to give back to the country, you had these glowing, utopia image of Nigeria in your mind.
Well dad, you were wrong! I wish death was like prison, where we get visitation at least once a month, so I can tell you just how wrong you were. Nigeria is not home, Nigeria couldn’t keep you safe, Nigeria cut your life short, Nigeria ruined your dreams and didn’t let you reap the fruit of your labour! Nigeria wouldn’t find your killers; Nigeria is NOT home!