How do you write a blog post about a country you call “home” but only inspires half our your existence?

We will try our best to describe our entire experience  in this post and why the main reason we went.

When my sister and I made our journey back to Nigeria, after many years of living in America, we were forced to realize the only things we could truly relate to were on a universal level i.e. music, food, and the latest fashions.

It had been years since we were last in Nigeria. The both of us were constantly being reminded that we were disconnected with a country we weren’t born in, yet had been calling “home”. It quickly became evident that as much as we call Nigeria home, we are not natives of our fathers land.

When we landed in Lagos the sounds and smells felt so familiar and reminded us of our childhood. When the heat and humidity hit us, we instantly felt that we were in a new environment. We both felt this overwhelming feeling of being home.

Upon our arrival, we spent a few days catching up with relatives in Festac, Lagos. We made quick trips to food eateries that were both Nigerian and American like Mega Chicken, Dominos, and Cold Stones. The both of us were shown buildings and businesses that resembled that of western civilization. It was as if our friends and family only wanted to show us the things they felt we could easily relate to and or be proud of.

After our brief stay in Lagos, we headed to Imo state, Owerri for a four-day funeral service and celebration of our late grandmother Regina Dureke in the village of Ogbaku. Each day was a new learning experience. People came from all over.

We met so many relatives we had not seen in years and many we couldn’t remember. Many friends of the family came one by one, to show respect and give honor to our grandfather and more importantly celebrate the legacy of our late grandmother.The most cherished memories during our time in the village were the precious moments we spent with our 91 year old grandfather. We had conversations on love, marriage, politics, religion and family history.

The imagery in the village left us feeling nostalgic about the loss of our grandmother. We kept reminiscing of her infectious laughter and her being first to greet us smiling and singing welcome home. Images of her face were plastered on every street and corner in route to the Dureke compound.

The quiet stillness and simplicity of everyday life in the village intrigued us. My sister and I were inspired by the traditional Igbo customs shown to us by the natives. Sounds of the rooster waking us up in the morning, the cook preparing our next meal, people speaking Igbo, talks of politics and the generator glaring. The architecture, vibrant colors, and rich textures matched the bright and high-spirited mannerisms of the people.

Every living thing seemed to have a set rhythm and knew what role to play. The sun knew when to come up and set. The drivers knew they were car drivers, and the cooks knew they when to begin preparing our meals. No one really attempted to step outside the boundaries of their professions. If you are a chief or politician, like our Grandfather, we knew to behave like one.

During our entire stay in the village, we learned many lessons like respecting your elders and following the system. Everything had an order. We learned quickly to listen, only to be seen and not heard unless spoken to. As women we had to follow the traditional roles. Overall, we really enjoyed our time in Obgbaku and time spent with our family was invaluable. The absence of family no longer existed and the emptiness had been filled.

While were trying to learn the latest Nigerian songs, dances, slang and fashion trends. Most people seemed to be fascinated with pop culture in America. If anything it seemed that young people living in Nigeria embraced American and or European culture. While we had been doing the complete opposite. We rarely had answers to the pop culture questions we had been asked. My sister and I were constantly trying to learn more about Nigerian culture and but conversations would slowly lead to the Khardashian beef’s with Amber Rose. It became clear after several conversations with relatives that as human being we naturally don’t appreciate the people and things in life that are easily accessible to us. Most of us go through life using these elements to find some sort of connection on a more human level.

It was good going back “home” to Nigeria. By the end of the trip my sister and I had to come to terms with the fact that we are Nigerian-American. Even though our parents were born in Nigeria that does not mean we will have the instant connection with Nigeria like they do. Even witnessing that our parent’s mentality and perspective had shifted to that of the American, made us more aware of our differences. We realized that will forever be on the outside looking with a magnifying glass in hand. Overall, our trip to Nigeria was strong with historical family themes and extremely necessary. My sister and I are now able to recognize that America and Nigeria are “home” to us, because both cultures have molded us into the women we are today.

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