ENTANGLED

Bukola arrived at the Murtala Muhammad international airport in Lagos, Nigeria, and was just pushing her luggage out of the departure wing, when she heard a loud shriek, "Bukkie!!". She raised her head and from a distance could just make out her father, brother and sister. Her sister, Adetayo, was bouncing up and down the place. She had been just eight years old when Bukola left for England, and she was super excited seeing her sister again. Bukola walked up to them and hugged each of them one after the other, her sister squeezing her ever so tightly and holding on just a moment longer. "I have so missed you sis" Tayo, as she was called by everyone, said to her. "Missed you too Tee. Missed all of you" she replied, before asking "where's my mother?". Her father replied, "she wanted to stay back and prepare your favourite meal. We all asked her to come, but she refused and wanted to make your favorite meal. A proper meal in years", and they all burst out laughing. Her brother, Shola, picked up the heaviest luggage, leaving the rest for the others, as they set out and walked towards their father's car. "Still using this old jalopy?" Bukola asked her father in a mocking tone and laughed, her siblings joining her. "We have told him countless times to change this car, but you know your dad. Once he's attached, it takes the Lord's doing for him to let go" her brother, Shola said, drawing more laughter from all of them. "You shut your mouth" their dad reprimanded Shola jokingly, wagging his index finger at him. "If I had sold this car, what would you be picking those little babes with, and showing off?" their father added, making Bukola glance at Shola, who was now shy. "I see we have two men at home now" Bukola said and smiled before adding, "you have to be careful now Shola, don't get any girl pregnant", as Shola shuffled from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. As they all got into the car, their father added, "I have warned him, except he wants to be a father at an early age", then he turned the ignition and started the car, taking them away from the airport and towards home. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Mrs Clara Adejo was in the kitchen, trying to clean the place up after she had finished cooking. She heard the thumping of doors closing, so she raised her head up and peered through the window to see who it was. As she sighted her daughter, she let out a loud shriek, and ran out through the kitchen door, enfolding her daughter in a tight embrace. She started thanking God in her local dialect, praising Him for watching over her daughter and bringing her safely home. "Mama, how are you, and how have you been holding up?" Bukola asked her mom, holding her at arms length and looking her over. "I have been fine my daughter, the good Lord has been faithful" she replied Bukola. They started taking out her luggage from the vehicle and taking it inside the house, her mother telling Bukola to leave the other bags, "your sister and brother will bring them in", before leading Bukola inside the house. Bukola glanced around as she entered the house. The sitting room was looking a bit different from the last time she saw it. They had a new television set, and the walls had been repainted, and quite recently she observed. Her father had gone out of his way to welcome her and she knew it would have surely dented his pockets. All the same, she appreciated the effort and told her dad so. "We eventually had to give the house a facelift though,, it was overdue" her father said as he dropped his keys on the table in the sitting room and went outside, to probably see their next door neighbor, and sit out with him, till dinner was served. Bukola entered her room, and saw that it had also been worked on, fresh paint on the walls, a big industrial standing fan was placed near the bed and she noticed that the floor had been recently tiled, so she poked her head out of her room door and called out to Shola and Tayo, "seems like you guys have been living the good life in my absence" and then she went back inside the room, not waiting for them to answer. She took off her clothes, went into the bathroom and showered, before throwing on some clothes from inside one of her bags, too exhausted to start taking them out and arranging them. She just wanted to eat the amala and ewedu she had perceived upon entering the house, having severely missed her mother's cooking. She joined her siblings in the sitting room, the TV was on and she sat down with them and started asking questions, trying to catch up on all that she had missed. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Their house was a little crowded with neighbours who had come to welcome Bukola back home. Some of the kids she used to know before travelling were now grown. She said several hellos here and there and tried keeping a smiling face. But eventually, she got tired and signalled to her mom that she needed to sleep. Her mom pleaded with her to tarry a little bit longer, "you know these people are here because of you, and if you are not visible, it would seem rude" her mom said. "But this is not the right time mom," Bukola told her, "my eyes are tearing up and I feel like I am going to have a headache. Plus, I have to go into the city to meet the commissioner for health. I have proposals I have to submit tomorrow" she added, rubbing her forehead with her palm. "If that is the case, then it is okay. I'll speak to your father and explain to him and whoever you have not exchanged pleasantries with, so they won't feel slighted. It's going to be detrimental to keep you longer than you can cope with", her mother agreed, and they hugged each other, as Bukola bade her good night and went into her room to rest. In the morning, Bukola woke up sharp and bright, having slept for almost eight hours. She checked her box and rummaged through it, and brought out her notes and research she had carefully prepared and was going to present to the commissioner later in the day. She checked the time and saw that it was almost half past eight, and it dawned on her that she was back home in Nigeria and that, unlike the United Kingdom, working hours started from eight in the morning and she was already thirty minutes behind schedule. She quickly scrambled for her phone and put a call through to the office of the commissioner. After several rings, the call was picked up by a woman, who had a cheery voice. "I'm sorry the commissioner will not be coming in as earlier hoped, he has an urgent meeting with the governor. But hopefully, before midday, he will be in the office. You can come in then", the woman, who had introduced herself as the secretary to the commissioner, informed Bukola. She thanked the secretary, and hung up, relieved that she didn't have to be in a mad rush to get to the ministry. She had time to get herself ready and go over all she had to discuss with the commissioner. At exactly fifteen minutes to twelve midday, she was already seated on one of the couches in the waiting room, having introduced herself to the secretary and her appointment cross checked. She had made the appointment via email while still in England and was surprised to have gotten a quick response, having heard about how one had to, in local terms, 'rub' the back of some people, before one could get an appointment. The commissioner, Dr Tunde Bakare, came in with several people and they all walked into his office and held a closed-door meeting for about thirty minutes, the secretary gesturing towards Bukola to exercise patience. Then, moments later, the door opened and people started leaving one after the other, and it got to the last person. As the door opened, Bukola saw the commissioner for health and a man, who was white, but whose skin had grown dark and tanned from the constant heat of the African sun. He was tall, about six feet three and his voice filled the room like it was coming from speaker boxes. As Bukola raised her head towards their voices, her eyes locked with the white man's and the man who had been talking, immediately lost his voice, staring back at Bukola. The commissioner, seeing that his guest was distracted, turned towards Bukola and back towards his secretary, who quickly stood up and said "sir, this is Miss Bukola Adejo, she has an appointment with you. She is the one from England who wants to join hands with you and collaborate to improve our health care in the rural areas". The commissioner flashed a smile that beamed brightly at Bukola, walking towards her with his right hand outstretched. She shook his hands and was surprised that his grip was a tad loose and she could hear him say "pleasure to meet you ma'am, my secretary will usher you into my office, while I walk my guest outside. I will join you shortly". Bukola said "thank you sir" but he waved it away and said "call me Tunde. Around here they like to remind me that I'm still a doctor before a politician, so they retain my title and call me Dr Bakare, but between you and I, Tunde is just fine" he finished and smiled at her once again, before joining the white man, who, all these while, could not stop staring at Bukola. They moved out of the office and Bukola was led by the secretary into the commissioner's office, and she asked "care for anything, water, tea or..?". "Water will be just fine" Bukola replied and watched as the secretary left the office. When the commissioner finally came back, he sat down heavily and was about to loosen his tie, before he remembered that she was there and so he apologised, "forgive me for being so casual, I'm so tired and the day is just half way gone. Nobody warned me being a politician was this tedious" he said, a smile lining his face. After arranging his table briefly, he looked up and sat back with a sigh before saying, "So Mrs Adejo, what can we do for you?". So Bukola took out her file and proceeded to give the commissioner details of her plans and where she needed the state to come in.