Waking up the next morning, it took me a few seconds to remember where I was. This wasn’t Nigeria, oh! I actually slept outside the country. Still feels surreal.
I opened the curtains and was greeted by bright, blinding sunshine. Morocco is different, sha. The weather is sunny but not scorching, which I love. But here’s the twist: the sun doesn’t know when to go home. I mean, it stays bright till around 8:30 or even 9 PM. At that point, your body is confused: “Should I eat dinner or breakfast?”
Anyway, I got up, brushed my teeth, and went straight to my laptop to check emails and get some work done. Just when I was about to feel productive, my stomach reminded me that it had not been consulted. Thankfully, my boss, Mr. Calvin Emeka Onwuka, had advised me to pack cereal from Nigeria, life saver! Because, my people, food no dey. Just bread and snacks, everywhere you turn. The cereal held me down until I could figure out what next.
After work, I sat down and did some calculations with the money I changed the previous day. That’s when I started shouting “Omo! Omo!” like a Nollywood extra, that dramatic, you know? The taxis had swallowed most of it. I even told myself, “Na why I no dey use una for Nigeria!” But well, I still needed to tour the area, find food (real food), and check if my Nigerian ATM card would work here.
I took a shower, got dressed, and carried every form of ID I owned, including my accreditation tag, because I no wan hear story that touches. Armed with Google Maps and Google Translate, I stepped out like a full-on tourist. I walked around, admired the city, and took some photos. Sadly, I couldn’t find any place to withdraw money or eat properly. I saw plenty to admire, but nothing I could actually buy. Still no jollof, no eba (cassava), not even spaghetti in sight. So, I U-turned back to the hotel.
Back at the hotel, I finished the leftover snacks from the previous day and tackled more work. Later, I stepped out again, this time heading in the direction where I had gotten snacks earlier. Guess what? I walked into McDonald’s, not exactly comfort food, but at least something manageable.
I placed an order, sat down, and watched people come and go, eating, chatting, laughing. And let me just say, the donut I had there? Easily the best I’ve had in my entire life. Soft, warm, and just the right amount of sweet. But still, no English-speaking soul in sight.
Everyone around me was speaking either French or Arabic, and I was just there, quietly wishing I’d paid more attention in French class.
After chilling and surfing the internet (thank you, fast Moroccan network), I ordered takeaway and left. Stopped at a shop near my hotel to ask where I could change currency, the guy pointed, but it was too late already. I bought a few things and returned to the hotel to wrap up my day.
Now let me pause to give Morocco a round of applause:
Constant power supply? Check.
Wi-Fi that works like magic? Check.
Mobile data faster and working without stress? Double check.
At that point, I made a mental note to have a word with my network provider when I return to Nigeria. They’ve been treating me like I don’t matter, meanwhile, Morocco gave me VIP service in just two days.
Before calling it a night, I made a few calls, replied to messages, and got back to work, because who else will fund this new soft life I’ve been introduced to? I even updated my to-do list for the next day. On it? Visit the bank (finally), and hopefully catch the Super Falcons and Copper Queens of Zambia in training. It’s about to get real.
Oh! One more thing, shoutout to my journalist friend, Dr. Victor Ademola, who dropped some helpful tips on navigating the city and finally finding proper food.
Did I find it? Did the ATM finally cooperate? You’ll find out in Day Three of this adventure.
