The anticipation of my homecoming, to the land that gave me my name, my heritage, and legacy. Being away for a decade meant missing the warmth, the aromas, and sounds of my motherland. My youthful experience was mostly dreamlike as a young soul, living in blissful ignorance. Like any child, cocooned away from the realities of day-to-day life, I felt safe and protected with my family. This nurturing environment allowed for the creation of beautiful memories. My Nigeria was warm, playful, loud, and exciting with fond memories of warm summer days and cool nights. The familiarity of hearing Isoko, Yoruba, Hausa, or Pidgin immediately eased any bubbling anxiety in me.

As the plane descended towards the familiar, the harsh heat of Nigeria rushed over me. A surge of emotions came over me: anticipation, nervousness, and an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. Ten years had passed since I walked the streets of Naija. I was overwhelmed to experience this same but so different place. Reconnecting with the land, with my checklist of adventures and local meals, I had to indulge in to fulfill my nostalgia. After a decade of adventures, trials, and growth in distant lands, the moment had finally arrived. I was returning home.

As days turned into weeks, I found myself grappling with a strange sense of disorientation - a reverse culture shock. Hearing the stories of your ever-evolving nation, from the outside world versus experiencing it yourself is vastly different. The rhythms of daily life felt both familiar and foreign, and I struggled to reconcile the person I had become with the person I once was. Yet in that struggle, there was a newfound appreciation for the richness and complexity of my home and a deeper understanding of the forces that had shaped me.

Returning as a fully-fledged adult, older, and wiser, the realities of the outside had made me keen to experience my home as a different person. Uncover the realities and come out of the bubble, that kept me shielded for a decade. At first, I was a little apprehensive, it was a brand new journey to embark on. My discoveries healed me. For the first time in 10 years, I wasn’t misunderstood. I didn't see the stares or hear the silent whispers about my hair, my skin, or who I was. For the first time in a long time, my existence was simply that. I didn't have to find ways to exist, whether that was traveling far to find things I needed or having to search for a community when there wasn't any. This is my community; my identity was perfectly understood.

"Hi, my name is Nenritji," I would say, falling silent, waiting for them to either mispronounce it, call it exotic, or make a disgruntled face. One specific encounter remedied me. She turned around and said to me, "Oh, you must be from Jos. That's such a beautiful name. Nen means God, right?" This simple exchange healed me. After years of simplifying my existence and heritage for the outsiders' benefit, I was finally home.

For the first time, it wasn't just me; I wasn't alone, and I could actually disappear in a crowd. Wherever you are, try find your way back home. Allow yourself to vanish, exist in the quiet, connect to your home and your culture. Your existence does not need to be dissected, defined, or explained. You are whole; dwell in that.

While my journey may have brought me far from home, it has also brought me full circle, back to the place where it all began. And as I embark on this next chapter of my life, I carry with me the lessons learned, memories cherished, and a love that will always be a part of who I am. The whispering echo of the child I was, with a glimpse into the woman I am becoming.