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Trust me, I struggled to decide whether to stay in Türkiye and invest the summer holiday in my growth or return home to feel whole again with my friends and family. I was reluctant to make the final decision. In the end, after a hectic semester, I knew I needed to revive myself mentally, and the only place that could truly give me that was home. Was I right? Absolutely! I never regretted going back. In fact, my stay was sweeter than Baklava, but sadly, holidays, like all moments in life, are never meant to last forever.

On getting back home, I was confronted with some hard-to-forget realities. While I would love to share my experiences with you, they might seem either relatable or unusual, depending on our different environments, backgrounds, upbringings, tribes, personalities, and more. So, here are my personal holiday reflections.

THE STRANGENESS OF FAMILIARITY

No matter how long you have lived in an environment, once you stop seeing certain habits, they can fade from your memory. When my family picked me up from the airport, on our way home, I spotted a guy chasing a “danfo” bus for a free ride. By free ride, I mean he had to tail the bus from behind and hang onto it while standing. Instinctively, I shouted, “Subhanallah!” My mom was shocked and asked, “Shey o gbadun? Are you alright?” Because honestly, anyone raised in Lagos should not be surprised by such a scene. But after two years in Türkiye, it felt unusual to me. Moments like this are common for anyone returning home after a long time away. It happens naturally without trying to create a scene. What used to be normal can suddenly feel like comedy.

THE JOY OF REUNION

We got home after the Isha prayer, when everyone was supposed to be asleep. But somehow, news of our arrival spread like wildfire. Before we could even settle in, people started showing up in groups to greet my parents. “Eku amojuba ooo! Eku amojuba ooo!” echoed from every corner. Some loved ones even travelled miles just to see my face again. I have seen grand welcomes like that in movies and when pilgrims return from Makkah, but experiencing it myself hit differently. At first, I thought it was not necessary, but later I realized how much a simple reunion could mean to everyone who showed up that night.

CURIOUS QUESTIONS ON REPEAT

I have sought forgiveness from God, saying Astaghfirullah upon Astaghfirullah, for how I used to scold my Turkish friends whenever they asked what I considered irrelevant questions about Nigeria and Africa in general. Omo! During my holiday, I realized that curiosity is universal and can humble your exposure, social class, and steeze.

Imagine hearing questions like these:

“Are there poor people abroad?”

“Can you drink snow the way you drink rainwater?”

“Why did you come home? (If na me, I no go come again!)”

“Do you eat swallow foods too?”

“Can you marry a Turkish girl?” (Me: You wan pay bride price for me? 🤣)

“Do you sit in the same class with Oyinbo?”

“Is it true that you can become rich after one month abroad?” (Me: Yeah… and that is the secret behind how I bought myself a GLE upon arrival 🥴)

“Did you meet Osimhen?”

“How can I come too?”

Of course, most of these questions sound irrelevant, and they come from different people with different perspectives on different days. However, they do not always reveal ignorance or lack of class. In fact, I have heard my Turkish lecturers and friends ask similar things:

“Is there water scarcity in your country?”

“Do teachers cane students?”

“Is it true that some people roam around naked?”

“Don’t you have universities?”

If you stumble upon this article as an international student, keep in mind that you will encounter such questions, whether at home or abroad. Kindly handle them with patience and a good sense of humour.

THE BITE FEELS DIFFERENT AT HOME

I am honestly a bit hurt writing this. Just a few weeks ago, I was a minister for food, plate after plate, without mercy. And now, I am here again, settling for my beloved Mantı and Makarna. But I know you are even more hurt, my friend, because unlike me, you have had no options in recent years. I am sorry, I truly understand your frustration (lol).

Maybe I am wrong, but I think it is worth saying that food should be one of the core reasons for going home. Trust me, it was the most valuable part of my stay. Even my family adjusted their plans when I was around. My dad would smile and say, “Ó má tó padà,” meaning he will return soon, let us prepare whatever he wants. That feeling alone is as satisfying as the food itself. Let me say it again: at home, “food na water.”

THE UNEXPECTED EXPENSES

I actually had plans to make my stay a remarkable one. What I would buy, where I would go, the foods I would eat, and the family and friends I would visit. But guess what I forgot to include in my plan? His Excellency, Data! Do not even ask how aimlessly I spent on that. A word, they say, is enough for the wise. “But if e reach your turn, no plan well.”

And of course, you already know those family members, neighbours, and “Egbon Adugbo” (the neighbourhood big uncle or aunty), who believe you are Dangote the moment they hear you boarded a plane. Please put them in your plan too. You cannot explain to everyone that you are just a student. Some people believe you are automatically rich and successful just because you live abroad. Planning for little expenses like this can save you from spending more than expected. May God make us even better than they think of us.

DIGEST THIS

To anyone reading this, especially international students, I do not know what your definition of home is. But if home, like mine, is a place where you find solace, and if you have a sponsor or the means, a valid residence permit, and family eager to see you (no be village people wey wan kill you oo), then go and feel whole again at home. But if your home is where you find yourself now, even if it is a foreign land, then focus on building yourself, creating your own happiness, and living in peace. The most important thing is to know your definition of  home and make it real for yourself.