This week seems to have moved faster than all the other weeks I’ve been here, and for this I am grateful because by the end of this week, I might just be travelling back home.
Everyone in our repatriation group has their fingers crossed throughout the week, trusting that today our flight back home to Kenya will finally become a reality and that we will finally, finally, be reunited with our families, families many of us haven’t seen for three months or more.
My second Covid-19 test results are not out yet, but this time round, I am not very worried because after explaining the difficulty of getting tested as well as getting certified results that we could present, Kenya Airways finally heard our pleas and allowed us to get tested once we land home. This communication was made through an official email, and therefore there is no speculation – what peace of mind this gives us!
In our WhatsApp group, everyone is positively looking forward to Friday. People have even made arrangements for quarantine accommodation back home. We look forward to those 14 days in isolation, which we believe will be nothing compared to the many weeks we have been stranded here.
At least we will be closer home. In spite of our optimism, however, we wish that the number of people scheduled to travel is bigger – we are 35, others having dropped out due to the steep cost of the ticket.
We are, however, positive that we will still travel. Meanwhile, back home, everyone — family, friends and church family — is excited that I will soon be with them, even though I will have to isolate for 14 days. After that we can have a proper celebration.
After three months of nothing but waiting, I feel a strange calm relief. I have been through a sometimes harrowing period marked by a roller-coaster of emotions, panic, fear, loneliness and desperation, but I pulled through. The challenge has made me stronger and given me a chance to know myself better.
As I sit on the balcony enjoying, yes, enjoying the heavy rain that marks the beginning of the rainy season and the cool almost cold breeze, I can’t help but feel a slight hint of sadness. I will miss the peaceful silence of this balcony that has become my second home. The place that allows me to escape my solitary existence for an hour or two every day, observing people going about their business below.
The one thing I won’t miss, though, is the constant noise of power generators. Due to the frequent power blackouts in this area, almost every home has a generator. Depending on the size, there are varying levels of noise that can sometimes sound like they are in the head. Sure enough, my thoughts are rudely disrupted when tens of generators around the neighbourhood come to life when the power goes off.
Last night, there was a party in the lounge by a group of young people. One of them wanders to the balcony. “Sasa?” He greets me in Nairobi Sheng. I respond, “Poa”, quite surprised because he doesn’t look Kenyan, not by a long shot. Seeing my surprise, he tells me that he lived in Nairobi for almost two years. He therefore knows a few Swahili words. He almost married a Kenyan girl, he adds, but her parents did not like the fact that he was not Kenyan, so he decided it was best to let go of the relationship. He adds that he has several Nigerian friends in Kenya, and who are married to Kenyan women. He returned to Nigeria when his papers expired.
After some chit-chat, he rejoins his friends indoors to continue enjoying themselves.
I watch the news bulletin back home and then catch up with what people are talking about on social media before I finally call it a day and retreat to my room. This night, I dream that I am back home, sleeping on my bed.