Transitioning…….......

It’s been about four months and that thing they say about being away from home was biting. Biting really hard. You find yourself looking for something familiar, something that resonates with home to hold on to. Nobody ever says how lonely it might get here. 

You convince yourself the umpteenth time that you didn’t miss home. There was nothing much to miss; you say. In the last three years, you had lived your life in way you could up and leave without any commitments. It had not always been like that when there was a woman in your life. However, since things took the downward spiral, you had avoided any form of commitment. Maybe that will change soon. 

The few female friends around you couldn’t understand why you were mostly unavailable emotionally or otherwise. In fact, only very few close people knew when you decided to up and leave. Even fewer understand why. 

Transitioning hadn’t been your plan from the outset. You always had one thing or the other ongoing back home at every point in time. Of all your close friends, you were the least expected to move and the last to do so. You were at least five years late to the party and it wasn’t exactly a palatable realization. You were starting all over – probably why it wasn’t an option you wanted to explore initially. But somehow it became part of a bigger plan.

You didn’t leave a lot behind besides an academic commitment which you are now struggling to keep. You tell yourself it’s one of the things that will make it all worth the while if you complete it. But you are struggling. Struggling hard. Even while back home, you were struggling. Your job gave you no space or time. But it was one of the things you truly wanted, truly desired and truly want to see completed. Silently, you hope you have not fumbled on that. 

Few days ago, you made the first Nigerian meal. Two packs of original indomie noodles pack with two boiled egg. It was your bachelor’s starter pack back home. You relished it with so much gusto. You haven’t had a Naija meal since you got here besides some dodo and egg stew meal you had at a close friend’s sisters home when you and your friend went visiting. You figured eating something familiar is definitely a good thing. You’d be making your second meal today. 

You find that the black stereotype still exists here despite the multicultural society of your city. On a downtown bound bus ride one Thursday afternoon, you brought a book along to read on the bus. You do this quite frequently when the bus ride will be long. Few minutes into reading, you see an older Caucasian woman staring at you with a “How come this black guy is reading a book. And on a bus” question plastered to her face. 

On another bus ride, it was an Indian woman with the same questioning expression on her face. You just couldn’t understand. You miss reading on bus rides now. 

Another time, it was older Caucasian man walking his dog who stopped in his tracks while you were walking ahead of him. Why? it was 6.30am and you had stopped suddenly to lace your shoes. You were on your way to campus with a cup of Tim Hortons coffee in hand. This older man stopped and wouldn’t move until you started walking again. You wondered what kind of criminal will have a cup of coffee with him at 6.30am. Next morning, same man and his dog will see you as you alighted from your car after parking and will give you a nod. You simply nodded back. 

You have started to get weary of people asking for your traditional African name. All your life, you have answered to an English name officially. Only family typically called you your traditional name. Yet some random guy here will question “why are you not bearing your traditional name” as if you were catfishing. You find that this only happens when you meet some random black guy probably of African origin. You made a mental note to avoid such ignorant conversation in the future.

The ongoing and rather humongous scandal of Nigerians crossing the border to declare asylum doesn’t do much for an already battered average Nigerian image. These days you hardly introduce yourself as a Nigerian unless totally necessary. In four months, you have observed how expressions and attitudes change when the word “Nigeria” rolls out. However, subtle or masked, the change in expression is always there. The average North American never wants to sound or look offensive even if he is. Some hypocrisy in there if you ask me. 

It’s funny how some of our age long prejudices are basically a result of our experiences. In just three months, you had let go of one of your misconceived prejudices about women who wear nose ring or with extra ear piercings. You just never liked it – you felt it was too outlandish. Would you date a woman who wears a nose ring now? Maybe not yet, but you’d go out with her. Few months back, you probably wouldn’t even saunter into a conversation with a woman with nose ring or with extra ear piercings.

Foye.

Ps. Decisions are hard to make. Making a big change even makes it harder to decide on. You recall how much you deliberated while deciding to transition. You realize now that you unconsciously go through a big change every other five years. You are already looking forward to the next big change.