Diary of A Nigerian Immigrant
I am back in RM 211 writing. At this time, I think I have been possessed by a writing muse to write this long and consistent I know that the sentence structure looks like I haven’t been through elementary school, but only strangers will see this, I hope.
I ought to be reading about African poetry, and I know I will get to it, but after lifting boxes, I can only think of Chris Anyaokwu and the poetry class back home.
See there, I said back home. I am beginning to romanticize Nigeria and my family, attributing it to my home. In my head, this is only an adventure. One in which I will go back home someday. I also think writing helps me document and heal at the same time. I have the ability to process all of my emotions and work through them. It is similar to cooking ‘Aboki’s indomie’.
Ehn, ehn, where was I?
How I got lost last week I had completed my class late at night and was heading to the hostel. The bus dropped me at a distance from my hostel. The intelligent thing to do, which I did, was to check Google Maps. The app, however, began to function like I was in Akute, and it started to rain. So here I was, shivering and lost. I knew that I would get swallowed up by the dark because I was literally standing in the woods.
Luckily, a friend saw me and asked about my destination. I unashamedly told him about my plight, and we walked down to my apartment together.
I know I like fine boys, and I acknowledge that lust is one of the seven deadly sins. Wait, calm down. I grew up with the Baby-Sitters Club book series, Nora Roberts, and Harlequin books. So my idea of a fine man may have been screwed up.
Tell me why I am entering the church and why I am noticing a Latin American brother. If you think this is a faith-based diary, you lie. I am processing it.
Anyway, I had noticed the brother for a while, but he didn’t seem to see me. For the movie “Love at First Sight' on Netflix to happen, you have to borrow a phone charger. Now that we are not on an airplane or in need of a phone charger, what do we do? Anyway, I will tell you what happened to the white shirt and blue jeans trousers, brother. It is how you will be spirit-filled and still be a nymphomaniac. Well, I am binding and casting the lust demon. If you have ever experienced an apostolic church or mountain of fire ministry in Nigeria, you will know the deliverance service is intentional. I just spoke with my cousin about premarital counseling. We are both mad at boys.
Back to school, I had my first class presentation last week, and I love how everyone gave me supportive glances. I think I may have made friends in class, but fingers crossed.
We go again this week. I think I am alone, but I am still trying to figure out if it is loneliness or a search for identity in this land. I have a lot of emotions running through me that I try to hide behind my busyness. This is akin to the COVID-19 period, where I forgot to process my emotions after a heartbreak.
I love that my roommate made me potato soup. I love the connection with my friend Mike, but I am searching deeper for something I can’t describe.
Wow, they want to take light abroad. I am so glad that it is not only in Nigeria that we experience power outages. PHCN, I hail you.
On the issue of faith, the Lord is supplying my needs. Meanwhile, my mentor, Sarah Jakes Roberts, is already in my home country. I will see you when I am done listening to her sermon.
