The year I came to America began at the American embassy in Lagos. It is one of the many memories of my last days in Nigeria I recall vividly. We were all waiting like defendants for the judge’s verdict. Will it be favorable? Will it not? Were the questions that probably roamed our minds. We were anxious, even our brief infrequent conversations were tense. Quick vapid twitch of the lips replaced our smiles, there were no laughter. As typical of a regular morning in Nigeria, it was very hot and the shades of the dispersed coconut trees outside the embassy provided little respite from the sun. Besides, we were all…

Funke has always thought there was nothing as spectacular as a Nigerian traditional wedding, the wedding of Shola and Bimpe convinced her all the more. The traditional wedding was nothing but splendid. The day as if aware of its importance, chose to be bright and sunny but not too hot. The wedding day of Bimpe and Shola started in the bride’s room with much primping and prepping, by the time Amarachi and Nikki were done with her, Bimpe looked like a royal. “Omalicha nwa!” Chika praised in Igbo surveying their hand work. The make-up looked impeccable. “You wait till Shola sees you his head will spin” said Chika. “I had…

The whole essence of humanity is to travel. We all journey, whether from heaven to earth or earth to the place of death. This, I ruminate over as I sat down at an old fashion steakhouse, munching on my Kobe beef burger. The life of an immigrant in a foreign land far away from home, I mused. New home, I thought, as I looked around the restaurant at the other diners very engrossed in their meals, so different from Zainab’s tiny pub in Surulere, Lagos. The contrast between the little restaurant back home and this one reminded me of a conversation I once had with a stout man on the…