My late Dad grew up in the remote town of Ede in Osun State. Somewhere in the South-western part of Nigeria. Ede must have been very remote because when I visit in recent times, I still feel it is somewhat remote as compared to Lagos City. My late Dad had some ambitions and was willing to take advantage of the opportunities presented by Lagos City so he moved to Lagos but I grew up to learn that as much as he missed the place of his upbringing- Ede, he dreaded going to Ede. It is noteworthy that my dad is from a polygamous home and maybe that contributed to his fears of going back to the lovely place he calls home. I think my dad loved Ede as he often refers to it as home but his fears hampered him from visiting Ede as much as he would have as compared to his contemporaries who in my opinion overcame their fears.

I often heard my dad talk so much about “Home”- Ede but rarely went home. As a matter of fact, he didn’t just refuse to go home, he shielded us (his children) from going there or getting involved in any activity in Ede while we watch other extended family members took their kids there and some even retired back to Ede, took public offices, built magnificent buildings and are very relevant or (without taking anything from my late dad) more relevant to the Ede community than my late dad was. Throughout my childhood, I only visited Ede once until I became a teenager schooling in Obafemi Awolowo University which is about 30 minutes away from Ede, then I took the laws into my hands and visited Ede anytime I wanted to. After all, I have cousins and grannies there. However, that freaked out my Late Dad.

Fast track to my recent adulthood, I have a colleague who grew up in Offa in Kwara State and he always expressed enthusiasm about going home (offa) every time we have a holiday and I wondered why he was very quick to refer to Offa as home. This is a married guy with kids so in my own opinion, I expected home to be where his immediate family is. Not his parent’s house, not his father’s home town, but where his wife and kids are. He reminded me of my dad except that as compared to my late dad, he was very confident and excited to go to this place he calls home whereas my late dad had the excitement about going home but was not very confident of it.

For a very long time I maintained that home is where my wife and kids are until I moved to Canada and found myself beginning to think like these two folks – My Dad and my colleague. Living in Canada made Nigeria home to me despite my wife and kids are with me in Canada. I developed this appetite for a place called home and Lagos became the home I crave. People told me it would pass but it has lingered. I constantly feel a strong pull and chemistry to that state of aquatic splendor. The one we refer to as the center of excellence. Yes with all of its imperfections, I anticipate going home and unlike my late dad and some of my diaspora folks, I have no fears. I regularly come across people like my Dad, they dread returning or visiting Nigeria, they recount the epileptic power supply, they are quick to highlight the lack of infrastructures, the risk that comes with living in Nigeria, one even decline a simple visit because his parents advised he may be kidnapped. While some of these worries may be legitimate, I wonder if this is the way to live. After-all majority of us lived over 30years before stepping outside the shores of that country. How hard can it be to spend a few weeks back there or even relocate back home? Well… it’s personal. You know what, I am putting my money where my mouth is. Sorry my pen this time around. #singing…I hear you calling, here I come baby…