My final days in Canada brought more family moments in Calgary, an emotional goodbye, a return to Toronto and the feeling of going home.
As my time in Calgary drew to a close, I found myself trying to see the city one more time before flying back to Toronto and eventually heading home to Nigeria.
A family friend of my sister took me close to downtown once again. We stopped by the mechanic before eventually finding an African restaurant called Ahinke. I ordered white rice with ofada stew and a hibiscus drink, or should I call it tea?
Honestly, the food was great, but what made the place special was how homely it felt. There were Nigerian vibes everywhere, especially in the warmth and hospitality of the people serving us.
The lady who attended to us was from the Philippines but had lived in Canada for some time and learnt how to cook Nigerian dishes. Somehow, she had also picked up the Nigerian accent, expressions and mannerisms. The way she spoke made her sound like someone who had spent years around Nigerians.
She was Filipino, but somehow, there was something so familiar about her. It was one of those moments that reminded me that sometimes, you can find a little piece of home in the most unexpected places.
I spent more time with my sister and my nieces. We went to the park, where I had a great time reliving my childhood through the slides and swings. I also watched my niece at her swimming classes before we went shopping for a few things.
Then came the packing.
At one point, I was genuinely tempted to pack my sister and my nieces inside my suitcase and take them back with me. The problem was that my suitcase was already full, and I was not sure the airline would accept three extra passengers as hand luggage.
The hours suddenly began to move faster than I wanted. Before I knew it, it was the morning I was leaving Calgary. I took another walk with my sister to a nearby garden, trying to enjoy one more moment together before I left.
I was overwhelmed with emotions, but the tears did not come.
Then the Uber arrived.
My sister and I hugged over and over again, while my niece looked at us as if to say: What exactly is going on here?
Eventually, I got into the car.
I had spoken to almost every Uber driver I met during this journey. I had chatted with them about football, culture, Canada, Nigeria and everything in between.
But this time, the words failed me.
I sat in silence as we made our way to the airport. I could not take any videos or pictures until we got close. By the time we arrived, I had already cried twice.
I was going to miss them so much.
Remember the flight from Toronto to Calgary where there was no food? My sister made sure I would not go hungry this time. She sent me off with food, snacks, fruits and water. We also got a cold bottle of zobo from a Nigerian store, although I could not take it through security because of the airport restrictions.
When I landed in Toronto, it felt like the referee had signalled for added time after 90 minutes of a football match.
I had only two more nights left.
After making calls and working for hours, I went to sleep, hoping I would still have time to take one more walk around Toronto or perhaps go for one last night-time ride around the city.
But somehow, I ended up spending the entire day indoors, working and arranging my things. That night, as I lay down to sleep for the final time in Toronto, my mind wandered back to my first night in the city, the night I had arrived and the beginning of everything.
So much had happened since then. While covering the World Cup, I had travelled to Calgary, visited Banff, spent time with family and created memories from places I had previously only seen in pictures.
I had only a few hours left before the final leg of my journey.
I had promised myself one final stroll around the neighbourhood before heading to Pearson Airport. I wanted to take in the streets one more time and have one last look at the place where this whole adventure had begun.
And then, finally, I would begin the journey home.
