But as I said, I did have my doubts. Those doubts started to grow and my desire to make the journey did start to dwindle. Also… the cost didn’t help. It was around £1k to go (£750 for the flight and £250 for the accommodation) Before I went, all I could think about were the other places I could’ve travelled to instead, for over half the cost and a guaranteed good time! (European city breaks; Prague, Amsterdam, Barcelona, Rome, I’ll see you soon!)

So even before I’d stepped foot in Lagos, the trip was full of uncertainty. My mind was spinning with different possibilities. [Add note about Mum’s story about the laptop & airport] I wasn’t even sure if I was going to be able to get my visa sorted in time, word to the notoriously slow Nigeria High Commission. But ultimately, I realised that all the things that I’ve been told about the country could easily happen anywhere, especially in the UK; politicians are just as corrupt (shout out the Tories), traffic is horrible if you’re trying to get down the M25 and fraudsters have tried to rope me in a few times so who am I to judge?

At the end of the day, Nigeria is a place I consider a part of my essence, a part of who I am. I asked to come because I wanted to feel closer to my roots. To be in a country where I’m surrounded by those who look just like me. I had to go back home.