Living life: A Regrowth

The discomfort inside the train I rode that early Monday morning was unbelievable. Kaduna was my origin, Abuja, the Federal Capital of Nigeria was my destination and an invitation to sleep during the ride was barely a few blinks away. It was only 6:30 a.m but tiredness was already waging a war against me, against my eyes. Noise from passengers on the overcrowded train was a blessing and a curse. A blessing to keep me awake on this trip which was a first for me and a curse because it prevented me from getting much needed rest. There was so much clutter of people's belongings along the aisle and luggage holds. Various things were scattered here and there owned by some untidy passengers. This was simply an amalgam of people from usual and not so usual backgrounds, often of different ethnicities and faiths cramped together on a trip.

I badly wanted to sleep since last night was a nightmare in the most simplest terms. I woke up more than thrice in last night, all tensed up and uneasy and then got up from bed as early as 4 a.m to prepare for my travel. The tension and stress about the job interview I was going for in Abuja all bottled up inside of me. Maybe it was the excitement of new possibilities or an apprehension of old challenges following me like ghosts of my unsuccessful life. Getting this job would simply be a life changer for me as until now I had been underemployed and seeking new avenues to jumpstart a new career and life in a different location other than my native Kaduna state. My prospective job offer was that of a sales representative for a mega telecom phone shop somewhere in the Central Business District of Abuja and I had to be there by 9 a.m for the interview.

There were two co passengers I sat with, a beautiful plump lady next to me who was occupied with tending to her baby's needs and a middle aged man seated at the far side. The man had an expressionless face that made me think he was in a world of his own filled with troubles. I could have named the infant with the lady, Restless, a boy that was probably six months old. He would whine, cry, scream or tug on his mother's blouse, apparently in some episode of baby tantrums. And in return his mom would pat him on the back, give him a snack or scold him in a threatening tone. I thought of engaging her in a conversation as a fellow woman but decided against it when I glimpsed a frown on her face. She was now on the phone talking in low tones to someone. A male voice could be heard on the other end and I thought it was either her husband, a boyfriend or just one guy she knew. It was only until she addressed the man beside her fondly did I guess that he was probably her husband.

My phone rang somewhere in the middle of the journey. The caller ID showed it was my mom.

"Tamara, how is the journey? Hope you ate well at the station before boarding the train?" she said in a tone that suggested I dare not respond in the negative.

I had called early that morning to greet her. She was aware of my journey some days ago and had wished me a safe trip.

"Yes, Ma. I ate well. But still nothing compares to your home cooked food, now." And that was the truth sincerely. The food from the roadside vendors at the station wasn't all as tasty and healthy as my mum's. But I couldn't complain much. On a trip like this you have to eat and be on the move. No time for sweet relishing of food.

"Well if you say so, that is good. Make sure you take good care of yourself and phone me when you arrive in Abuja," she said sternly.

She proceeded to reel out a list of advice, what I should do and not do when I arrived my destination. My mother was a strong pillar for me and during my struggles with university and work she supported me in so many ways. It had been five years since I left the tertiary institution and I had engaged in one menial job or the other to make ends meet. But now after six years I had gotten a call from a firm that I had applied to many months back and without any hesitation I left my job as a waiter in Kaduna to go for the interview. 

After ending the call with my mom, my co passengers, the lady and man stood up, gathered up their baggage and walked down with difficulty to the end of the coach. It was no surprise, the train was full with as many passengers standing as those sitting down. They both sat somewhere on the steps leading to the exit door. A young guy about my age who was standing by politely asked if he could sit beside me after the exit of the couple. He simply grabbed the chance for a seat before other people had noticed the available empty seats. I looked up at him, shrugged and said yes.

"Hi. I am Ben. What's your name?" he asked with a pleasing masculine voice when he had settled down on the seat. Beside him on the last seat by the aisle was another guy who didn't seem to want to acknowledge my presence. I presumed that the unknown guy was travelling with Ben.

"Tamara, but you can call me Tammy," I responded in the sweetest of my voices. 

I began to wonder when last I heard such a strong, masculine voice that was also from a playful personality. Maybe from Kiss Daniel, the singer or Kehinde my cheerful neighbor back in Kaduna who would serenade the compound with his brilliant singing. Before long, Ben and I were into a nice conversation. 

He talked about his computer business that he had in Abuja which he started some years back. Initially his ambition from secondary school was to become a botanist but later on he studied pharmacy at the university after realizing there weren't many career opportunities in that line in Nigeria. He told me his love for botany was kindled by a garden of flowers that an elderly couple from his hometown had kept. They had previously worked for some expatriate families in the big city of Lagos before retiring back to Kaduna and replicating the gardens of their bosses. He reached into his pocket and brought out a flower I couldn't recognize. Anyway I wasn't much of a flower expert.

"Do you know that this couple became famous for their stories of those foreign people they worked for? They would tell all their guests that came to visit them about their experiences with foreigners from different countries. Some were American, British, Italian and a few Australians and they all had different lifestyles," he remarked.

"So tell me about yourself. Where do you come from?" He was flashing a captivating smile while turning the flower in his hand.

"Kaduna but originally my

parents are from Niger state," 

I wasn't particularly comfortable around guys who made it their business to pry about a lady's life but Ben seemed different. His attitude was cool and unique, he didn't not have that overly bearing attitude with me as I knew with some other guys. And gosh he cologne was something out of this world.

Suddenly I thought the journey was taking longer than usual. I checked the time: 7:35 a.m showed on my phone. One hour more in the train before I reach my destination. Now the urge to sleep was gone. 

"So what are you doing today in Abuja," he asked, bringing me back to the present from my thoughts.

"Oh, just visiting. But specifically to stay with a distant cousin who is into car repairs for a short time," I said in the most causal tone. I didn't want to mention that my mission was a job interview otherwise he may ask more questions. Questions I wasn't ready to hear from a stranger nor give answers to. The scenery was changing Ben said his eyes looking out from the window. But I didn't notice what he was seeing, my gaze was on my former co passengers who had now moved again to a new seat.

Evergreen trees of oranges, mangoes, neem, etc lined the railside. I thought of my life, how dry and grey it was, much like the harmattan season that was worse in Kaduna and better in Abuja. It was slowly easing paving way for the coming rainy season.

"The trees are beautiful around this place. It's completely different from Kaduna," I said desperate to move the focus off me by changing the topic of conversation.

" Yes. This side gets more rainfall than Kaduna." Ben said looking at his phone. "We must be close to Abuja now." He then turned to me and asked if this was my first time traveling to Abuja. I told him yes.

He smiled. " I bet you will like Abuja more than Kaduna even if you are staying for a short time."

"Well, I will see about that. I personally think everyplace in Nigeria is the same. Same problems, same challenges but maybe different people," I replied glancing at the trees and vegetation moving by my window.

He agreed but argued that there would always differences between people in one place or the other and the different climates were to be reckoned with and not ignored. Climates in a country may be the same or different but certainly not the people. There will always be personal preferences by one person or the other. Things that made people struggle and others thrive. Ben stood up and told me it was time for him to leave. With my hand in his, he blew me a kiss before saying 'this is for you' and disappeared down the aisle. When he had gone I looked down to my hand and inside it was the flower Ben held earlier while we had talked. Uncertainty filled my mind, on one hand I desired for him to stay with me. For us to chat our time away in fantasies and imaginations that may end up only in our heads and not in reality. Stories that may forever be bound only by a trip on a train. On the other hand, I needed my space, my privacy, a desperate need to close old chapters of my life in Kaduna and open new and better ones in Abuja.

I moved back in the seat and brought the blooming gift to my face. Closing my eyes, I deeply inhaled the sweet fragrance of the flower. Just then I found myself in another world. This place was different, unfamiliar but yet pleasant and wonderful at least. I wondered how I got there or what brought me. Was it magic, my silent wish or a kind gesture from a sympathetic person? Somebody who knew my struggles, pain and concerns and was willing to give me a fresh start, an example of what my future could be. The place I found myself looked somewhat like a garden and was a world full of surprises and excitement. Surprises because this was a strange environment that should make me want to escape, to flee the unknown but yet exciting that it allured me, made me think of the possibilities out there for me. Under my feet was lush green grass, shimmering in the distance in the sunlight, there were pools of clear, blue water with agile fishes and water creatures and on surrounding bushes, trees and plants where numerous animals. They were moving around, flying effortlessly in the most breathtaking sights and in perfect harmony. Along a certain path I noticed some flower petals scattered on it almost covering the stone pavement and what looked like a person's figure in the far distance. Instinctively, I headed down the path in curiosity and amazement following the trail of petals, and what I later discovered where shining stones that felt surprisingly soft on my sensitive feet. As I continued walking I suddenly felt light and weightless. And in a flash I just realized that I was floating like feather in the wind, like a bird or butterfly.

"I am glad you are here. How do you like this place?" said a voice behind me. It sounded so familiar. I turned my head unconsciously and behold a few feet away from me stood Ben. Shock could have been an understatement to describe how I felt. And then, like a heavy load I felt like I was falling towards the ground. But just then, Ben reached out and held me in his arms. 

'He has saved my life,' I thought in my head.

'HE SAVED ME!' 

I turned round to face him when we both had landed on the ground in the most relaxed manner and style.

"Thank you. You saved me!"

"You are welcome. But please next time don't get shocked. It may spell doom for you."

The way he said those words suggested he probably wasn't angry with me or unhappy about the incident. Rather there was a look of concern in his eyes as he looked at me.

"So what brought you here?" he asked.

"I don't know. All I remember is that you gave me a flower on the train before you stood up to leave and when I inhaled the fragrance I came here through a passage."

I looked at him excepting a reply of joy and happiness. That he was as happy to see me as I was after our brief conversation in the train. I wanted to know if he had any feelings for me, if I made him feel different the same way he did to me. When we were seating side by side, exchanging ideas and thoughts in our our own world of talking.

But no he didn't. He simply said: come. No other word said or sound made. Instead he took me round on a tour of the garden naming each flower, their botanical name like a rehearsed song of history as long as the distance from the Earth to Mars.

After awhile he said it was time

for me to go back; my journey of droughts and unfruitfulness had ended. And a new chapter, a new season of freshness and showers was awaiting me.

I was back in the train now. No longer in the garden of flowers or magic, back to reality where I left it off. In the train other passengers were lost in their thoughts, in their ideas and plans. Maybe some came to Abuja to start a new life afresh like me, like sprouting seeds with the rains after a dry spell. A life hard to come by wherever they were before. 

It definitely will not be easy but surely my life will sprout again, be fresh and fruitful like the tropical forests in the southern part of Nigeria. Yes, I will not be suitable to live in the deserts of the north, nor the swamps of the south plagued by floods. No. I would not live in any of these areas for all the money in the world. I will thrive and survive beyond the reaches of extinction, an environment created to make me a nobody and invisible. I looked out the window relishing maybe for the first time in my life the greenery I saw by the railtrack fresh bursts of growth after a long harmattan. My impression of the beautiful scenery of grass, shrubs and trees with bold backgrounds of hills and rock formations was that of a good omen, portending new beginnings and success for me. I thought to myself, if plants and wildlife can still be resilient and beautiful in the face of unfavorable circumstances then why shouldn't I?