“I have lived in Johannesburg for the last five years, even though I have spent a decent amount of that time travelling. Really, it hurts to live in another African city that could hardly be more different from the city where I grew up and which I consider home. Firstly, the basic elements of comfortable living are in place here – good electricity, constant water supply and fantastic road networks. Secondly, I am always amazed at the number of world-class shopping malls in the city; there seems to be a massive mall at almost every street corner, which makes shopping and entertainment readily accessible.
Interestingly, Johannesburg shuts down quite early in the day – most of the streets are empty by 7pm which is vastly different from other cities where I have lived, but a little similar to Ibadan. People speak often about the hatred that South Africans have for Nigerians, but I have experienced absolutely nothing close to that; I have felt welcomed from my first day in the city and I feel very thankful to live in a place that allows me to seamlessly pursue my dreams.
In all my travels away from home, I have had some experiences that made my heart cry for the state of affairs back at home. There was one day in 2013 when I was driving in Johannesburg and I got pulled over by a policeman. My vehicle license had expired the previous month and I had not gone to renew it. I was terrified to the bones. As the cop approached the car, I greeted him courteously and he asked why I was driving a car with an expired license. I told him that I planned to renew the license at the end of the month and he said “Please make sure you do so. Have a nice day”. I was too stunned to keep on driving. Was that a real encounter with a policeman? I had grown up to live in absolute fear of the Police; in my head, the moment I lock eyes with a policeman, I am in trouble. Every time I recall that experience, I wonder why the gentleman was so civil with me, considering my previous experiences in Ibadan. lol
Another experience that comes to mind was something that happened while I was in New York. It was five years ago, I was completing my Master’s degree in New York and I felt intense pressure from many corners to enrol for a PhD straight away. No one seemed to understand why I was even thinking about doing anything else. I spoke to several people about it, including some of my professors at the time. There was a professor called Tina Nabatchi (by the way, she insisted on being called Tina) who offered to take me out to lunch to discuss my options. She paid for my meal and sat through almost an hour of listening to my concerns.
At the end of the meal, she said “It will be my honour to someday call you Dr. Abiodun; I am sure you will make a great PhD candidate, but I have watched you in my class and you are a very practical thinker. You need to go out into the world and work for a minimum of three years. If you find yourself desperate to return to the classroom after that, please do”. I was completely overwhelmed by the candour with which she engaged with me. Coming from a system where a professor couldn’t understand why I was complaining after being unfairly graded in an exam because my GPA was still good enough, I couldn’t be more thankful to be surrounded by people who genuinely cared about me.
If there was something from Ibadan that I could carry along with me everywhere I go, it will be the hustle present in every Ibadan person. Whether it is the taxi driver with the tiniest car insisting on loading two passengers in his front seat, or my mum negotiating wholeheartedly for a large bowl of tomatoes to be sold at N50 at Bodija market, or the Okada rider flying a bike from Moniya to Mokola for next to nothing; Ibadan people go hard. I miss buying booli and groundnuts opposite UI gate, I miss the cool breeze on my face when I ride an Okada across the city in the evening, I miss everything that typified life on the UI campus back in the day.
Ibadan is always home, and I always look forward to returning, no matter how brief.”
[END]
