It has been precisely three years and four months since the first day Serena, her brother, and sister went to the Italian embassy in Lagos. Waking up at 4 a.m. to get to their appointment was always a long drive—anyone who has been to Lagos was without a doubt familiar with its hectic traffic: the countless people running to catch the bus, those selling beverages and biscuits and, of course, the ‘bus conductors’ screaming at the top of their voices Ebegda, Ebegda…, trying to convince passengers to get on their buses.
The narrative was always the same—the security officers dressed in their uniforms, standing in front of the embassy gate; although their duty was to ensure the safety of the visa seekers, they always managed to do more than that. Two things you had to bring with you when going to the embassy: your appointment letter and some extra money. Right at the gate, the security officers would not hesitate one instant before running through the same line: “Madame settle us abeg…”[1], as though you were under obligation; simply put, one had to bribe them to get into the building and without the obligatory backhander, your appointment letter was just a formality.
Those toings and froings came to an end in February 2009 when they finally got the call they had been faithfully praying for; their visas were issued—oh, what a joyful day it was in that household, the music was louder than ever! Their cousin had taken it upon herself to cook a very special jollof rice to celebrate the good news, but nothing could compare to the moment Serena held her passport in her hands, staring at the visa as though it was the best Christmas dress she had ever gotten. Their mother had called that evening from Italy, she too was so excited—all those years of sacrifices had paid off, but what she was most excited about was seeing her children after nearly 10 years.
The first couple of weeks were difficult for Serena. She felt lost because she couldn’t follow the lessons in Italian, and it was so frustrating that she would sometimes sleep through classes. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by the head teacher. Before long, Serena was given an aide (a classroom assistant) who was about 26, probably in her final year of university. She came in twice a week when Serena had History or Italian and translated what the teacher explained, and at the end of every lesson, Serena felt more and more confident, although she still had difficulties expressing herself in the Italian language.
In those early school days, when she often let her mind wander off and away from the confusion of a new life, she would remember her childhood with her hand resting on her chin – it was a moment of deep thought, and she was used to sitting in that position like the grown-ups would do when they were thinking about their past mistakes. Serena had always seemed older than she was – nothing like the other kids who had just come to the city from the village; anytime she opened her mouth, she would immediately fit in with the grownups, and for some reason, she felt comfortable in their midst.
[1] Ma’am, you have to give us some money (bribery)
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