Returning to Nigeria after 2 years

Within 24 hours, I’d collapsed twice.

The last time I saw my mum was July 2023 and I remember where I was the night before I returned to the Netherlands. I sat right across her in a kiosk and we had a conversation around my life in the Netherlands, what I should be prioritizing and how my life was structured at the time. It felt surreal then, as the country I’d called home for so long was now a vacation spot.

I left that conversation asking myself what the whole point was, why I decided to go on this journey. I didn’t have to. In her words: “If you feel you cannot stay there anymore, come back home”. She promised to receive me with open arms if I ever decided to make a u-turn and return to Nigeria.

I left then, and didn’t return for almost 2 years.

2024

I didn’t go for almost two years because in 2024, I was projected to spend an inhumane amount of money in moving houses and furnishing the said house that I did not think it sensible to also drop bands of money on flight tickets.

I did not see my parents or any family members in 2024, and I feel this was one of the most interesting years of my life. I made about triple the friends I made in the year prior, I travelled a bit more, I went out more. I moved houses and moved closer to the city, I essentially blossomed in 2024 but something was missing — my parents.

My only goal in 2025

I remember writing a Year In Review at the end of 2024 and I said my only goal in 2025 was to see my mum. I said if I could achieve that and my other goals stalled for whatever reason, that’d be enough.

I meant it, which is why as early as November 2024, I’d purchased tickets looking to March of 2025 where I was finally going to see her. Finally.

Packing

I was excited to see her but was I excited to pack? No. Honestly, I think my last two trips have taught me so much. I end up packing more than I need, and that’s always frustrating because on my way back, I started uncovering items I packed but never used once.

I had two suitcases, one filled with my clothes and the other had clothes I wanted to give out in Nigeria. This also meant on my way back, I’d have an empty suitcase — right. The plan was to fill the entire second suitcase with food items and I promise, I tried my absolute best in that regard.

Packing was relatively easy since it was just clothes.

Flying

A 6-hour flight, while fasting. I was in the air when it was time to break my fast but I did not break my fast until about 7.30-7.45pm because being in the air meant I could still see the sun for extended periods. Call me delusional but until that sun set, I did not break my fast.

Arriving

I let out a huge sigh right before I started this paragraph. It took me right back to the airport — stepping out and immediately breathing in this thick, heavy air that clung to my skin.

Aderolu described it best: “Like being suffocated by a sweaty man’s armpit.” One who hadn’t showered in days.

It sounds dramatic, but that’s exactly how it felt. The air was tense, almost soupy. Stagnant. Breathing wasn’t automatic anymore — I had to actually think about it, like I was reminding my lungs to do their job. I don’t know if that makes sense, but in that moment, it did.

The last time I was in the country (2023), I could not find my bags at baggage claim for a few minutes and I thought my bags were left in the Netherlands until someone walked up to me and asked what type of bags I was looking for.

I told him, and you guessed right, he appeared out of nowhere with my bags. After handing over the bags, he asked me to “appreciate” him and asked for 40 euros. I was dumbfounded, I cannot remember how that interaction ended but I definitely parted ways with him and not 40 euros.

This time around, something similar happened. I struggled to find my bags again and someone shows up out of nowhere asking for my bag specs, I told him and he went in search of them. As he left, I saw my beautiful blue bags get pushed through the opening of the carousel and I ran as fast I could to get them off.

I got them off and made my way to the exit.

The walk to the taxis.

I’ve always been an advocate for enjoying moments and not spoiling them by bringing out a phone to take pictures or videos. I take it back, I wish I had a recording of my walk to the taxis somehow because something amazing happened here — I saw my mum.

She stood outside the parking lot waiting for me to appear. I had to walk for what felt like an hour but really was about 7 minutes. She saw me inch closer to the parking lot and she ran as fast as her legs could take her, wrapping her arms around me for as long as she could.

It was so good to see her, I did not expect to see her at the airport for different reasons but that moment sold me a dream as my experience took a nosedive with the events that followed.

First sign of calamity

It was 11pm the same night, I was finally home. I went into the mosque to pray and the moment I got myself into a bow, I felt a sudden rush of blood to my head and it felt like I’d been hit by a tsunami.

I was in trouble.

First collapse

Writing this now, I cannot remember the first time I collapsed but my symptoms built up within a day and I fell hard. I felt nauseous and dizzy, had migraines and I’m glad I was off on those days because it was just so hot and I could not understand what was wrong.

My first guess was heat exhaustion which was true for the most part, so as a precautionary measure — I took it easy.

Seeing grandparents

I lied. I did not take it easy, I was out seeing people a day after. I tried to take it easy but I’d made plans with people already and I did not want to disappoint them. I saw my maternal grandfather and a few people. They were in different towns in a different state so I did a lot of moving on this day.

This did not feel right, I was really weak and just tried to see it through. I’m glad I did not collapse outside as that’d have been very dramatic. I made it back home, thankfully.

It was super nice seeing them, I had not seen some of them in 3+ years so that was wholesome.

Second collapse

Calamity struck twice and I collapsed again. This time, I cannot remember how it happened. I was in one of the bedrooms when I suddenly felt light-headed. Within a split second, I was on the living room floor which was at least 15 steps from the bedroom.

I was on the floor and people around me had to rush to help me up. I did not know what happened, I tried walking and realised I’d sprained my knee. I must’ve hit it against something or maybe it was the impact from my 100kg body hitting the floor.

(I’ve gone above 100 kilos by the way, but I’m still in denial)

Visit to the hospital and tests

I did not go to the hospital immediately, for whatever reason. It’s all a blur at this point but few hours later, I collapsed again in the bathroom. It’s so crazy because all of this happened within 72 hours of landing.

I fell in the bathroom and I spent sometime on the floor, came to my senses myself, stood up and walked out. I needed help and I needed it now.

Could it still be the heat?

I went to the hospital to get some blood-work done, let’s come back to this as the results weren’t immediate.

Going to Lagos

Did I rest? Obviously not. I was out again to see a friend as we had to shop for an event that was happening in a week. This was a few days after my visit to the hospital and I’d already been feeling really good here.

It was nice to be out after being in for so long, I was on a bike when the breeze hit the side of my face and I was so happy to be finally out.

I almost got scammed, of course. My friend believes it was just an error on the seller’s side but I believe he tried to scam me. Anyways, he inflated my actual costs by about 20% for no reason. I was about to pay when I realised the cost did not just make any sense.

We calculated the costs together and found out he added some money to it, it might’ve been a mistake but the country already had me on edge at that point from how expensive everything was. It had me looking twice at things to make sure I was not hallucinating and for the most part, I was right.

Donating blood

I was back at the hospital. My blood-work came back fine — except for one detail: my red blood cell count was too high. God forbid a few cells in my body decide to be overachievers. I was advised to donate some blood.

My experience at the hospital is a story for another day, but at this point, I’d already become accustomed to how hot the country was. It wasn’t that big of a deal anymore. I’m guessing donating some blood, coupled with my eventual settling in made for a recovery.

I’m happy to say I have not collapsed since then and life has been good.

Going to Lagos again

I had so much fun in Lagos the first time, that I went back about 5 days before I had to fly back to the Netherlands. I spent 3 nights and saw a tremendous amount of people.

I’d planned these meetings a long time in advance (I like planning), and it was fulfilling to see everything come into fruition. I saw old friends, rekindled connections and made new ones! This was one of the highlights of my trip. One of my closest friends also got married during this time and I was able to make it to the wedding.

My time in Lagos was amazing, until my last night.

Food poisoning

I met with the BuyFlowers team on a Tuesday evening. It was great seeing everyone and we went to a buffet. I did not eat a lot, but you do not need a lot to get food poisoning. Something must’ve been contaminated as I returned to my lodge and started feeling bloated and uneasy.

It was the same night Arsenal dragged my club through the mud so maybe that triggered it a bit but my team and I suffered a lot that night. Everything I ate at the buffet came out one way or the other.

The latest couple in town

I could not let that hold me down as I had to show up in all of my glory the very next day. My babies were getting married and I had to be there. Honestly, I felt just fine in the morning. I ensured I kept hydrating and by noon, I was ready for whatever the day was going to throw at me.

A big shoutout to Feranmi and the love of his life, Victoria. Happy married life! I love you guys. ❤️

Returning “home”

That was my last full day in the country as I made my way back to my parents’ house after the wedding. It was time to leave and return “home”.

By the time I got home, I saw my extra suitcase filled with everything from spices to fish to grains and many more!. I was looking forward to returning to the Netherlands but I was going to miss the country. More importantly, I was going to miss my parents.

We had so many intricate conversations and nothing beats a proper face to face chat. Speaking on the phone is alright but it feels different when you know they are a few steps away, and not three flights away.

It was really great seeing them, it was good seeing my friends and amidst all the unfortunate occurrences that kicked off my holiday in the country, I’m happy I was able to salvage it by spending time with some of the people that mean the world to me.

Next time

Will I be back soon? I feel like I say this all the time but I really don’t know when next I will be back. Maybe I won’t be the one getting on a flight next time, maybe they will, who knows? What I have learnt is that this is my home now, and it’s where I feel most comfortable.

Till my next flight,

Fouad.