For days, I struggled to grasp this somewhat unsettling realization that a member of my family would leave not just Nigeria, but Africa, miles away from home and family.
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I digested the pain on my brother’s face
His heart is the territory where silence is spoken
But blood recognises love from a distance
& in his eyes were unshed tears
Held back for departures.
—Departures, Ifesinachi Nwadike (2023)
Benin City, Nigeria
Japa began to seem real to me the day my brother called from Lagos in October to confide in me about his arrangements to travel abroad before the end of the year. Some weeks earlier, a friend’s brother—a skilled tailor I saw often each time I visited their home—had travelled to London in a twinkling of an eye. I was particularly astonished by the swiftness of his migration because one minute, there he was, standing at his table, measuring cloths and the next minute, he was in London. Even though I was not very close to him, I shared in the nostalgic feeling that followed his peregrination. However, this feeling became palpable the moment my brother said to me over the phone, ‘Bro, before the end of this year, I will be in the United Kingdom.’
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