Introduction to My Strange Reality


I didn’t even look up.

My once frightened and forever fidgety interior had become an icy, straight-faced exterior.


This time, out of annoyance, I looked up. I saw a beautiful, shiny little dark brown face, her head wrapped entirely in delicate, deep purple cloth, pressing firmly against the window of my beat-up, clunker of a Honda Accord. The beautiful child begged for money. So many times before, my heart had broken. This time was different.

I looked back down at my phone, aimlessly scrolling through the first world problems of my Facebook friends back home, as I lived, day to day, in what many still call a third world country.

I thought for a moment about how I had become downright careless. Not careless meaning that I absolutely should not have had my phone out while in traffic. Not careless in the way that I had forgotten that smash and grabs are quite common in Lagos, Nigeria– the traffic “go-slows”, as the locals call them, give nefarious characters the time and opportunity to smash windows, snatch valuables, and make off like bandits, all while being armed with nothing more than perhaps a crowbar and athleticism honed by years of darting in and out of moving traffic all day.

No, I was careless in the way that one has fewer cares. Six months ago, when I first arrived in Lagos, fresh off the plane from Houston, Texas, everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING, was absolutely terrifying.

But today, I both carelessly and without cares, made eye contact with the innocent, begging child, but only for a brief moment. Because although I did not react in a heart-warming way to my surroundings and those in it, my heart had not completely become cold.


One thought on “Introduction to My Strange Reality

Add yours

  1. While reading this, I got this hilarious visual of you hiding your necklace under your shirt like dude did in “Friday” when Debo came pedaling up the street. LMBO!!!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: