This is what it feels like when home is no longer a place you can return to. In this conversation, we speak with Monica from Benue who shares what it means to carry the weight of memory, the fear of return, and the ache of belonging to a place that no longer feels safe.
- What memory of home do you miss the most?
It’s rather sad that I can’t in good faith call Benue my home. It’s my parents home so I can say Benue being home is by proxy. My favourite memory of Benue as home was far back in 2005, as a three year old child. My oldest memory dates back to that trip to the village, I remember nothing before trip.
It was the first and last time I met my granddads, and my aunties and uncles( the ones not in Lagos)
I went to the farm with my cousins, roasted yam, went hunting with my grandpa, bath in the stream.
It’s my favorite memory and I miss it and the people.
- When was the last time you felt safe in your hometown and what changed?
The last time I was in Benue, my village looked abandoned. The population was made up of old people and very sick people. I didn’t feel safe at all, I only spent one night in the village and left the state the following day.
- How do you carry the fear of being from Benue with you today?
I carry both fear and shame. Fear that my heritage might soon become nonexistent or tied to another tribe.
Shame that the government does nothing to solve the problems of the state, I’d say they’re complicit.
- Have you ever had to explain to someone why going home is not an option? What did you say?
My friends always had stories every new year about how Christmas in their village was fun and how they never wanted to come back to school or leave the village.
I could never relate, from primary school till date.
So when they ask, “what about your village?“ I have to explain that my parents are most of their siblings don’t stay in the village so there was no point travelling that distance for no fun.
Or I just say I told my mum I didn’t want to go.
- If you had the chance to say something to your hometown, what would it be?
I hope the land heals and it’s children come back to plant in it.
