Is it really him? Or am I looking at a ghost? After all these years? Is my uncle really here, standing on our doorstep?
These were the questions I kept asking myself and no matter how much I tried to pinch myself back to reality, that familiar face from my childhood was still there at our doorstep, seated on our couch, with new faces he called his family staring and smiling back at us. it was really him.
Then more questions followed: what had happened in all these years? What had brought him back to us?
As a teenager, I watched at the gate as my uncle, my dad's younger brother, who'd been living with us for like forever, was driven out the gate by my dad. He was headed to the airport, off to some foreign land for a supposedly better life.
At first we had contact with him. Sometimes he would send us gifts too . Not until it happened.
And for over ten years, he stopped calling and no matter how we tried to reach him we just could not. In summary, we lost contact with him.
Everyone wondered what could have happened to him? If he was really okay and thriving. We prayed and fasted for his safety. But for a decade, nobody heard from him.
Rumours had it that he was arrested for a crime abroad and might be in prison. We prayed and hoped it was all a lie.
Just like me, I was sure every other person must have all forgotten about him, until this past Christmas morning, we heard a knock on the door.
Of course it was Christmas and everyone knows that we always have guests showing up at the door, so we all thought it to be our neighbours or friends. But as I opened the door, on the other side was a familiar face I had last seen years ago. It was my uncle standing there at the door with his family.
Was I happy? Of course. Was I surprised or shocked that he was okay and now have a family? Of course.
Also just like every other person we wanted to know what really happened.
It turned out that my uncle had not been arrested, as the rumours had suggested, but he couldn't just explain what really happened. All of a sudden l, it felt like he lost his memories of where he was from or his family back at home in Nigeria. Not until a few weeks to Christmas did it all come flooding back to him, his lineage, his family in Nigeria and he hungered so much to be home. So a few days before Christmas he packed his bags with his new family and flew down to Nigeria.
I sat there with the rest of my family as he cried telling his story. While steadily repeating with tears "I can't tell what happened or how it happened, I just lost my memories about you all. I'm so sorry"
We consoled him. And reassured him that we had no grudge against him.
He shared with us the tale of meeting and marrying his lovely wife overseas. It was truly a beautiful love story which I might write about some other time.
We spent days catching up and getting to know my wife and children. Honestly, the transformations in his life over the past years have truly impressed me. It's quite astonishing to observe the considerable changes he has undergone. More impressed as to how much had stayed the same in his relating with us. He was still the same caring uncle I remembered growing up.
In fact, it felt like his love for family had grown the more, although he now had a second family to cherish and care for. Also he showed that he was willing and ready to make up for lost years he never spent with us. It was a memorable Christmas one I would never forget in a hurry
