By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
Finally it was Thursday. I am not sure I slept a wink as the excitement had gotten the best of me. It was 7 am and before mom could even switch on the light in the room, I called out to her. ‘Ma Good morning” “Yes Morning, did you sleep at all?” she asked? I nodded and hurriedly climbed down from the bed to take a shower. It was our first time visiting Dad’s village and had to leave by 9 am for the bus stop. We got into the bus, took our seats, then my stomach just started rumbling. I am sure it had been provoked by all the food I had seen at the park or the fact that I barely had my breakfast. Even though she gave me that look only mothers would know, I still got the meat pie and apple juice I wanted. 45 minutes into the journey, Dad starts telling us the names of the different villages we would come across before I dozed off. I woke up after some time due to the heat in the bus and the continuous bumping of the car. Just felt like we were in the middle of nowhere. The road was so bad I wondered what kind of coma I must have gone into for me to only wake up now. No wonder mom always said I sleep like a log of wood. The sun was still brightly shining so maybe it poured few days back. That’s the only reason I can give for the amount of mud on the road. Then I noticed some guys were helping to push cars that got stuck for tips in return. My mind wondered how much they could be making at the end of each day. 20 mins later, we were now driving on tarred road. “Now you will see something that will blow your mind” Dad said. I looked in awe. Mind you I had already seen beautiful springs of water bursting forth from gigantic rocks, perfectly planted trees of palm plantations by the roads and now this, a beautifully built bridge with bamboo by the sides painted in green and brown that provided some kind of shade on the road. We then drove into a tunnel that led to a series of ring roads built around a hill. The road made us go higher around the hill where I could see the villages we passed earlier so far off downhill. The houses appeared like dots and the clouds were so close. Several other smaller mountains and hills surrounded us with trees and wild plants hanging from them like something you would see in Avatar. “How did they build this road?” I wondered We had been 5 hours into the journey and it took another 3 hours to get to the village bus park. At the entrance to the village was a huge statue of a man, barely covered with his hands stretched to the sky. He had a woman embracing him from behind, her face buried in the side of his neck with clay pots surrounding them. This monument was old, worn out and covered in red mud. Must be evidence from the test of time it had withstood. My clothes were soiled from sweat and food stains and I couldn’t wait to see my grand pa. It had been a long time since he visited us. I missed his stories and was here to enjoy all the fruits from his orchard. I looked at the children playing by the road with the smile on their faces and happiness in their eyes, the people going back home from the farm, the mud houses, the redness of the setting sun, freshness of the air and deep down I felt it was going to be a trip to remember. I would definitely have more stories to tell my friends next term when classes resume but most importantly let me rush into the arms of my grandpa. “Adamma…kedu?” grandpa greeted me I just looked at him and smiled. Did I mention I can’t speak the dialect? That’s a story for another day!