Lost At Sea

Chapter Three

I had boarded a flight to Dakar at the Muritala Mohammed Airport. It was a few hours journey in the sky and jokingly I hoped there wasn't traffic in the air like the roads back in Lagos. By the time we arrived at the Blaise Diagne International Airport, the sun was already on the horizon. I pulled my luggage along the floor with my backpack haunched behind me.

Outside, taxis waited for passengers. Beside them were families and friends and acquaintances waiting for the arrivals of their families and friends and acquaintances. Behind me were tourists, both black and white, taking pictures of everything they came about. I could see an Asian couple taking pictures in front of a signboard that read "Welcome To Senegal". I found a fellow Nigerian family of six that I met on the plane. They were overly religious. I could recall the moment the last born son rambled and made mention that the plane's engine was going to fail and that Superman was going to save them like in the movies. His parents rebuked it in an instant, calling upon God's many names before admonishing him. I, on the other hand, couldn't help but chuckle. Now that they had a safe journey here, they didn't shy away from praying and dancing with praises. They thanked the Lord for having conquered stagnancy and hoped to make progress here.

My uncle leaned against his jalopy, a rusty, blue Peugeot 504. This wasn't the ride I was expecting home. He had a pick dancing from side to side in his mouth. It was as I drew closer to him I realized it was a lollipop.

"Bonsoir." I greeted, slightly prostrating.

"My Wole Soyinka," he replied, pulling me into an embrace. "Bonsoir."

He smiled, revealing black and yellow teeth. A reminder that he was an unhealthy smoker. "You're in Senegal," he said as though I didn't notice "Leave that your prostrating shit in Nigeria."

He usually spoke as though he wasn't born and bred in Nigeria. It was when he found a job here about a few years ago that he earned the Senegalese citizenship. Since that time, his feet hadn't graced his fatherland.

I helped my bags into his boot and sat beside him. He fumbled his keys and started the ignition. The engine coughed to a still in dismay.

"This how he do," he smiled. "Give me a minute." He went on with this procedure until the car finally groaned to life. He worked the engine for a few minutes just to be sure. I pitied the old vehicle when it clanked.

"Musique?" He asked with an impressive accent. I raised a brow in surprise. I shrugged an answer as I worked the seatbelts on. He tuned on the radio and "Loyal" by Major Lazer began to play. A smile lit up his face and he turned up the volume.

We drove through the busy streets and I could catch glimpses of pedestrians walking the sides. They were much darker in complexion in comparison to my people. There wasn't any more difference than that. A bus resembling the notorious danfo bus drove past us. A wave of French music accompanied its tracks. I marvelled at the beautiful fabrics displayed in the shops and stalls in the market. They could make a wonderful dashiki to rock on the streets of Lagos. Perhaps, I could buy one for Maami and my little sister.

We were on the road for some hours. We drove over road overseeing the town. Now, I could see the wonderful city of Dakar. Tiny neon-like lights emanated from the buildings below in the distance now. It was beautiful.

★★★★★

By the time we got to his house the moon's crescent was already high in the sky and the crickets were already performing that nightly duties. The building was a bungalow with a hat of green iron roofing sheets. The yellow security lights in front of it could have served as a substitute for the sun in this time with its intensity and brightness.

My uncle offered to help me with my bags now even though I refused. An older person shouldn't be with bags when the younger one was with empty hands, especially when the bags belonged to the latter and nothing whatsoever was wrong with such. That was our culture. He shrugged with raised hands as a sign of resignation, then with a short mischievous nod he ambled over to the door. He reached into his pocket and brought out a bundle of keys.

After lifting the luggage out myself I slammed the boot; too hard. The noise cut through the air. It awoke the barking of a dog across the street. He frowned at me with a look that said "really? At this time of the day or with the car I'm managing?" I replied with an awkward smile. He rolled his eyes and twisted the door knob open. He turned on the lights. I was quite surprised by what I met. The walls were plastered white with intricate golden designs engraved in them. The table was a shiny glass and the red leather sofa could have been mistaken for new ones— if they weren't... All were in total contrast with the outside.

"Me wife and kids are already asleep, okay? Be careful and try not to make a noise."

"Yes, sir." I whispered behind him.

He lead me to the guest room and retreated into his room. I settled my things and got out of my clothes. Then I had a cool shower, changed into my pyjamas and got to bed. I was about to close my eyes when an idea sprang up in my mind. I got up quickly a got out my jotter. By the time I found my pen the idea was gone.

I sighed and fell on my back.

******

Hi guys! I'm so sorry I couldn't post this chapter last week Saturday. I was caught up in a LOT. 😔 But I'm fine now. 😊

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