The journey home was about to begin, but the memories of the journey that brought me there would stay with me for a long time. Before leaving Canada, I took one final walk, took some pictures and tried to record a short video explaining how I felt.
I cannot remember how many times I restarted it. Eventually, I decided I might just post it exactly as it was. The failed attempts, the pauses and the awkwardness may actually be the most honest reflection of how I felt about leaving after covering my first FIFA World Cup.
The ride to the airport was another memorable one. My Uber driver was from the Philippines and, as usual, the conversation moved from my experience in Canada to where I came from, cultural differences and the places I had visited. When I mentioned Banff, he said, “Wow, in my 42 years in Canada, I haven’t visited there, even though I have family close to the place.”
Imagine me, a visitor to Canada, telling someone who had lived there for 42 years that I had visited a place he had never been to.
I eventually got to the airport, checked in and, thankfully, got a window seat. Since it was a night flight, watching the lights disappear beneath us as we took off was beautiful. But the best part of the flight was probably the passenger beside me, Nadia, a Moroccan woman based in Canada who was travelling home to visit family. She had watched almost every game of the World Cup, so naturally, we discussed the tournament.
When I asked who she thought would win, she said Spain.
“Do you know why?” she asked.
“Because of Lamine Yamal.”
Then came the explanation.
“He is Moroccan.”
I could not argue with that logic.
Perhaps the airline had heard me when I previously said I couldn’t get used to the food on flights. The meals on the way back were much better, and I had the longest sleep I have ever had on a flight. I was either exhausted from the World Cup or finally comfortable enough to sleep. Either way, I was grateful.
During my connection in Morocco, I also met a Nigerian architect who had travelled on the same flight from Canada. We discussed travel, work and, of course, the World Cup. I asked what he thought about the expanded 48-team format, and he was not a fan. He suggested that the top teams should play separately while the others compete for the opportunity to join them. What started as a casual World Cup conversation quickly turned into a full tournament restructuring proposal.
I later boarded my connecting flight and found myself beside another passenger with a remarkable story. He spoke about losing his wife, his first and only love, and how difficult it had been to cope with her death. It was another reminder that every person you meet carries a story.
By the time I landed in Lagos, I could only thank God for the tournament, the opportunity, the people I met and the experiences I had.
Nigeria, however, had a few surprises waiting for me. After completing a health declaration form online before travelling, I arrived to see passengers being separated over the same form. If you had completed it, you simply showed it and moved on. No further questions. No follow-up. Nothing. I still have no idea what the entire process was for.
I also still do not understand why airport trolleys cost money. Do you pay to use them where you live?
After collecting my bags, surviving some traffic and finally getting home, I was happy to be back. Nigeria is home, but I will miss Canada’s orderliness, organisation and structure. You notice the difference when you return.
Thank you to aclsports.com, my family, friends, supporters in Nigeria and Canada, and everyone who followed this diary series, from my first WAFCON diaries to my first World Cup diary and now the final one.
My first FIFA World Cup coverage is over, but the memories will stay with me forever.
Amara Obah, signing out….
