The goodbyes are the worst.
I spend the first 10 minutes arriving at the entrance of any travel, looking at the many goodbyes that people get to experience. It’s typical that in most African settings travelling to the western world merits the company of the “whole family”; uncles, aunties, brothers, sisters, cousins e.t.c. It’s like winning big on the lottery; people pray, laugh, kiss and tons and tons of advice.
I am not the best at goodbyes and growing up in a family with eleven (11) brothers, two (2) sisters and 4 (moms) and a superman of a dad that’s a big problem. My goodbyes are awkward, quick and sometimes rude to hide my emotions but i almost always turn back around when everyone is back on their way.
The tail lights of a car is my “true story”. I like to imagine that they are looking back too.
That’s the thing about travelling, you meet awesome people all the time and saying goodbye becomes an art. Eventually there are less and less and sometimes no one to say goodbye to.
That’s why i stand at the entrance. Every tail light reminding me of a moment back home. Hoping that somehow they are still looking back too.