By the time you read this, I should be on the road. It is a scheduled post. I do not know which way the road might lead, but it is surely not southwards just yet, except maybe they’ve removed that narcissistic governor of ours with several skin colours from the Government house, and then there would be something to rejoice about.

Now here are the choices: Abuja (again), Kano, Sokoto (the seat of the Caliphate), Katsina (where the Christmas bomber hails from), Jos (again, where I had my national youth service, and where the Red Cross had been working with the victims of the January and March clashes), and Nassarawa (where a friend had invited me to come and spend a few days).

None of this destinations is in the Eastern or Southern parts of the country. That trip will have to come later. And definitely not in these days of journalists getting kidnapped for a ransom of up to 30 million naira. And not the Niger Delta area soon either. I may not look like an American, but who knows what a random search of my bag might show.

In any case, I’m on the last leg of my tour and home is calling me little by little. I hope my dogs won’t be disappointed that I left them for so long. I have had my fill of Nigeria, almost. One of the best places of interest in this trip was the Anglican Church at Wusasa, a very prominent place in the history of Northern Nigeria.

The only thing my mother says she is worried about is that I (must have) been wearing “the same shirt all over Nigeria.”

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