A Little Like Home

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zerah4 days ago5 min read

The cold that hit me that morning as I stepped out of the train station was the kind of cold that sneaks under your jacket to settle inside your bones. Sunderland smelled of wet snow pavement and a quietness that felt too heavy for me especially as a Monday morning. I was already used to the hustle and hustle of Lagos life that a quiet one felt different. I breathed into my hands and rubbed them together to get myself warm a bit. Then I hugged my coat tighter and forced myself legs forward. My knees felt weak at the joint.

I had imagined this differently. From the movies I had thought the western world will be filled with people minding their business.

But I was wrong, the city was bright, welcoming, soft around the edges. I noticed the people would smile at me on the road. In fact it wasn't long before I fit into my class. My heart would settle and my mind would breathe.

The only thing I was struggling against was the air that felt like it didn’t want me here.

My fingers were stiff with cold and already numb even as I had my gloves on. It wasn't long before my eyes caught a small sign. “Nkiru’s Home And Abroad.” For the first time since I arrived I saw a familiar name on a signboard. I smiled, I needed no soothsayer to convince me before I pushed the door open to this warm room aromas that reminded me of home.

Inside, the store looked like someone had decided to teleport me back home. The walls inside had African prints on it. A soft high life tune of Ada by Flavour n'abania played from hidden speakers on the wall.. Wooden shelves lined the room, holding different African delicacies and spices I was familiar with. Behind the counter stood an African woman who looked like she had lived several lives and carried the wisdom of all of them in her eyes. She was dressed in Bubu gowns made with Akwa Ete Fabrics, and on her head sat a headscarf like a crown. She glanced up at me, her gaze sharp but warm. It reminded me of something immediately, Mama Chinedu. That was the exact way she used to look at me whenever she suspected I wasn’t eating well.

“Close the door properly, my dear. The cold is not our friend,” she said.

I smiled. Her voice caught me. It had that same firm gentleness I thought I left behind in Lagos.

I turned around and closed the door quickly and stepped forward. “Good morning, ma.”

She nodded, studying me in a way that felt too accurate. “Johnny just come?”

I laughed. Although it was somehow rude to use such words, I nodded, understanding what she meant. “Yes, ma.”

She returned my smile and licked her eyes on mine. “Welvone. So what do you want? .”

I blinked. “Something to make soup. It's been weeks I tasted one last”

“I could tell immediately you look like a girl who’s missing home,” she said, as if it were the most ordinary statement in the world.

My throat tightened. “Is it that visible?”

"Nobody can hide it. If it doesn't appear now, maybe later." She replied with a gentle voice. "How long?"

"Sorry?" I asked to scan the room with my eyes.

"How long have you stayed here?"

"A few weeks. If not a month."

Her cheeks stretched further into a curve. "Still a newbie." She paused. She had this motherly look on her face. "Go on, pick what you need."

I turned and picked a few things I needed to make Egusi soup. Honestly, I didn't plan such impulse buying. I was just happy to see the foodstuffs I was familiar with and couldn't help the cravings that hit me immediately.

I finished and walked to the counter to pay.

“You know what, it's your first time here. I'll give you a discount." The lady said even before I would ask for the price.

"Really?"

She nodded. "I hope to see you next time."

I smiled and nodded. "Sure."

She proceeded to pack my purchase. Scanning them through the system. “What is your name?”

“Zerah.”

She smiled. “Beautiful. My name is Nkiru. Student?”

I nodded. “Yes, ma.”

“Hm.” She pushed the bag with my purchase to me. “How are you coping?”

Her words hit me like a gentle slap. I swallowed hard. “It's still early for me to complain right?.”

She laughed. “We all expect abroad to wash away our pain,” she continued softly. “But, reality check, the pain doesn't go away with the distance. Just the same life and suffering.”

A small laugh escaped me, the first real one in days. She smiled when she heard it.

I grabbed my bag. "You really do remind me of someone back home".

"You left a heart back home?"

I laughed again, shaking my head. “No, ma. Not that kinda heart. More like someone very important.”

She leaned on the counter. "Someone important must be a lover."

I checked my time. I was almost late for my class “More like a mother.”

"Ohh. I see." She stretched herself. "Don't let that relationship die with distance." She advised me.

I nodded and thanked her. Then I turned and walked to the door.

“Come back any time,” she said. “You don’t have to fight loneliness alone.”

I nodded, clutching the warm loaf to my chest. As I opened the door and stepped back into the cold, the air didn’t feel as sharp anymore.

Sunderland still wasn’t home for me yet. But maybe,just maybe it was becoming.

One step at a time.