Watching my parents travel was one fun part of my childhood because it was always a buildup of events. From the planning stage to the packing stage to the night before they travelled when they would call each child to give them money for miscellaneous (my favorite part) and eventually the day they would travel. All their journeys pretty much followed this pattern until one time my mom had to travel to a neighboring country, Ghana, for a seminar.
I was really attached to my mom as a kid hence the nickname ‘moms handbag’. I barely let my mom go anywhere without me and this journey was no different. Before now, I started learning “Twi”, one of Ghanaian’s many languages and all I wanted was to travel to the country and have a feel of their rich culture as portrayed by the television (my love for Ghanaians goes way back). Even when I knew that I has classes to attend and as such, travelling with my mom wasn’t an option, I still gave it a shot. A futile shot. I kept pestering my mom, threatening to squeeze into her travel bag with all amount of seriousness in my tone. At that time, I honestly would have hidden inside her travel bag if I was given the opportunity. But now that I think of it, I probably would have suffocated before we arrived at the airport.
After so much deliberation and promises on my mom’s end, I finally allowed her to embark on her journey in peace. The journey was meant to last for three days; three long days. With teary eyes, I escorted my mom to the airport. She gave me a peck on my cheek and a tight hug before beckoning on the driver to take me to school. On this particular day, I arrived thirty minutes late to school. Believe me when I say that I faced the wrath of the angry teachers who were on “lateness” duty. I barely concentrated in class as I was wondering where my mom was? Had she arrived? What was her first thought as she touched down Ghana? Good thing it was a Friday and school activities on Friday weren’t always so long.
Friday, Saturday and finally Sunday. I was really excited when I heard my mom has arrived safely. I scurried into the car while practicing how I would run to my mom in my head.
“Okay. Immediately you see mommy, run towards her and give her a very tight hug” I said to myself.
We arrived at the airport and we didn’t see my mom. I began to panic.
“I thought she said she had arrived?” I asked the driver.
“Yes she did. At least that’s what she told me” he responded.
At this point, I started fidgeting. Thoughts of something bad happening to her kept flooding my mind. We kept searching for her. During our searching spree, she called to ask where we were. I was a bit relieved as the call indicated that she was okay.
The driver kept trying to explain to her where we were till I felt a warm touch on my shoulder. In a split second, I turned around to see who it was and for like a minutes, I didn’t recognize my mom. She looked entirely different
“Mama” she called out softly with a little disappointment in her voice. She was a bit sad as she thought I wasn’t excited to see her.
I, on the other hand was trying to figure out who the stranger in front of me was, till I heard my mom’s familiar voice.
“Mommy!” I screamed after I finally realized that it was my mom who stood in front of me. I gave her the very big hug which was long overdue. She swooped me up to give me a tighter hug, then she asked
“Did you not miss me love?” This was the golden moment. A moment to tell her how awfully beautiful and different she looked. I went on and on, describing evert single new thing she had on, Starting from her head to her toes. She came back with a new hairdo, she wore a straight gown with African prints. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined my mom wearing a straight gown. She also had this beautiful sandals on. Wondering how I knew these things were new? Well, I packed her box with her, every step of the way.
Funny fact, while we were initially searching for my mom, we had passed by her a couple of times and we didn’t recognize her. For some reason, she didn’t see us pass by her too. I went back home smiling for two reason; one was because my mom was back safely and two was because she looked different and twenty years younger. I don’t know what the Ghanaians did to my mom but I liked it! We called it the “Ghanaian make-over”
With love, wongi✨
