The very year I turned twenty, my anxiety to go to my hometown became high. Gracefully, one of my uncles came to visit, he intended to travel to the village that Christmas. When I heard about his decision, I convinced him to speak to my father so I could follow him, but my father could not agree. His excuse was that my village people were not brotherly in their conduct. He said:
A man died of hunger in our village, but during the funeral, a lot of food was served.
As he mentioned this, cold gripped me. I could not believe that there would be people so heartless.
At that moment, I decided that it was not necessary to travel to a land where your welfare is not important.
I had carried this notion in my mind till I turned thirty. I was not proud of my hometown and hardly spoke of it with my comity of friends.
One of my friends named Chisom was going to get married. The wedding was to be held far away in the east. We were from the same state. As his best man, I was on the ground from the first day of the rites ceremonies.
The bride's family were happy to see us, all young and happy people. During the payment of the dowry, I spotted my uncle.
What could he be doing here?
I asked myself, then walked up to greet him.
Good evening Uncle Anechebe.
He looked at me, trying to figure out who I was. It's been a whole ten years since I last saw him.
Nna, what are you doing here?
He queried with his eyeballs flickering so wide.
I accompany my friend who is getting married.
I said to him,
Chineke me e. The bride is your cousin.
I was taken aback. My cousin? I couldn't be here as the best man. That day, Uncle Anechebe introduced me to everyone as the first son of my father, the one who had refused to bring his family home. It was a mixed feeling for me. I never knew I was in my hometown and that my friend was marrying my cousin.
The wedding ceremonies went well but I had to turn down the office of the best man for another of our friends.
When I returned to the city, I reported to my father my experience at the wedding. Everyone laughed at him. Then, we began a very serious discussion about all of us traveling to the village.
My siblings were very glad when my father finally agreed that we all should prepare to go home next Christmas.
We started planning. Everyone wants to look good. So, we engage in a savings scheme that would enable us to cater for some of the things that will be needed and not make our two weeks stay in the village boring. All these we did without our parents knowing.
The journey to the village was quite fun. For my siblings, it was their first time traveling for about seven hours in one bus.
When we reached home, everywhere seemed strange with strange faces too. Everyday during our stay, my father took us round the village introducing us to all our relatives. We mingled with as many as we could. To keep in touch with most of them who were in our age bracket, I volunteered to open a social media group and add all of them and more of our people joined. Since then, we connect and share life experiences.