Preordained #ProjectNigeria

55- Welcome Back!

"Me, too."

"I wish you were here. Right now."

"If only I could fly at night..."

"You'd look ridiculous on a broomstick."

We both laugh, trying to imagine what she has just said.

"How is your day going? I know I asked you about your day a few hours ago."

"Maduka, it's the middle of the night. How's it supposed to go?"

"Cool, hot, rainy, cold?"

She laughs again, and I imagine her shaking her head. "It's cool right now. But we should never trust our weather, because the day will likely be very hot. By the way, congratulations on pulling this all together. I wanted to tell you earlier, but it skipped my mind."

"What?"

"You've settled down, isn't that great? Your cousins are chill with you."

I chuckle. "It does feel good."

"I'm proud of you."

Warmth spreads all over my insides. "I didn't just do it for me. I did it for you, too. And I couldn't have done it without you."

"As usual, this makes me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside."

Ditto, I think. "Have I said that before?" I tease.

"You know you have."

"But seriously. You've brought nothing but fortune since you came into my life, Nwanyieze. I don't know how you do it."

She giggles and in my mind's eye, I see her covering her mouth with her free hand.

"I can't wait to see you again."

"You've said that about ten times, and I only left two days ago."

"You have no idea, do you? I want to see you every day."

She yawns, a sign of suddenly feeling sleepy. It is on the top of my tongue to ask her of Saheed, if he has contacted her yet. But it feels like a bad idea, like it will run our conversation. After all, I trust her and she promised to tell me if something happens.

"Get some sleep, baby girl."

"You, too, Madi. I'll be waiting for you."

"I love you."

I hear her breath hitch, and just as I'm about to tell her good night, to my surprise she whispers, "I love you" before clicking off. I choke on my own saliva for a few minutes, coughing with teary eyes and laughing at the same time.

For the next two hours, I lie in bed, staring into darkness and blinking in disbelief, my cardiac muscles struggling to function normally.

Work desperately calls and after another week, I leave my village for Lagos. Daa Ndidi is the one who cries at my departure, telling me that it reminds her of the past. I promise to visit as much as I can; after all, this is my home. My cousins are also preparing to leave, as they have lives to lead as well. The farewell is a bittersweet one, and we plan to return for the next major holiday.

"Bring back our wife for us oh," Onyekachi jokes. They had heard about Nwanyieze, the dark skinned beauty I had initially come home with. Apparently, she is held in high regard already, as they heard from Daa Ndidi that she was the one who had encouraged me to come back home.

My bags are filled with gifts: corn cobs, avocados, coconuts, wraps of ugba, dried fish. I don't have the heart to reject them, and so I pay for excess luggage at the airport. The lady attending to me laughs when I tell her about this.