I got posted to Rivers state for my service year and had like 5 days to pack my bags and get on a flight. I had moved from Rivers state to Lagos when I was 9 with my family and had not returned since. Till I was government mandated, which is hilarious to me. I had lived in the city of Port Harcourt and was returning to that same city. So fast forward to my flight, I take an early one and arrive before 8:30am. My uncle is waiting for me outside the airport and as I roll my huge box down to his car, it caves in and loses a wheel. Unprovoked. Just decides to not complete the journey with me. The box wasn’t even stuffed to the max, which made its breakdown more confusing. But anyway, this mishap has placed me in a not good situation. I call my parents once we’ve dragged the dead box to his car and let them know what happened. They tell me to go to the house of a family friend to get my boxes switched. So, we set off.
I would like to make it known that after being in this city for barely half an hour, I witnessed what was definitely a crime. We had driven out of the airport and had been on the main road for all of 10 minutes when I spotted a parked car across the street, near a filling station. The car wasn’t what caught my attention, it was the people around it. Thre were two men slowly backing away from the car while a policeman stood yelling and signaling for them to step toward him. The doors of the car were open and lying on the backseat were multiple clear plastic bags, filled with a liquid that looked suspiciously like petrol. As my uncle spoke up to confirm my suspicions, the two men took off running with the policeman giving chase. Did I mention they were barefoot and one was shirtless? Well, now you know. If you haven’t figured out what was happening, they were moving stolen petrol but got caught. How that happened remains a mystery to me. An interesting way for a city to say “welcome home” to someone she hasn’t seen in over a decade.
I get to the house and switch boxes. Then we set off for camp, which is in a town whose name I no longer remember because I wasn’t there long enough to have it register. I bid my uncle farewell and start going through the checks. Everything is going smoothly until I get to medicals, then it all scatters. I present my medical report to the doctor and wait for her to clear me. Then she asks me if I have any health issues that didn’t show up in the tests. I tell her my heart rate speeds up easily but that’s all. Big mistake. Immediately she hears what I’ve said, she shouts and begins to write furiously with a red pen. I attempt to calm her, trying to explain that it’s not a big issue. She tells me she’ll decide if it’s an issue and tells me I must go home. Dear reader, my home is a whole plane ride away. I try pleading with her again, but she just shoos me away to finish registration and then start my exit. All this excitement and it isn’t even 11am yet.
I was out of camp in 72 hours and back at home in less than a week. Clearly, the city didn’t want me back and had made it clear from the moment I stepped out of the airport with my box, on that fateful day. But I’ll be back.
Wrong Problem Equals Wrong Solution.