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.
Living in America as an African is quite different from living somewhere in Africa. If anything, Americans will make you forget your own insignificance on earth.
Irrespective of what anyone thinks, I have decided that the hair I was born with—this coarse, springy, dark hair that grows towards the sun—is special, not because of its length, thickness, texture, or any reason other than because it is my hair and I have decided to love it.
Half a century ago, I inherited my parents’ longings for Freetown, Sierra Leone. Unknown to me then, a two-week voyage home would became a lifelong journey. Read more.
This site uses cookies to improve your experience. Click here to learn more. CONTINUE
Show More
Privacy Overview
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these cookies, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are as essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may have an effect on your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.