The night was long and hot, PHCN held the power again. The morning seemed longer, woken up by knocks on the door by a concerned mother, advices given, words of prayer uttered what a loving mother she is. Luggages all packed, it’s lagos so leaving 4hrs before your flight isn’t a bad idea, It’s a really hot morning, as he boards the bus heading to the Local terminal, pensive but it’s not his first rodeo u might say. Finally at the airport the nice people at check-in tells him he can’t check in till an hour before his flight.
Back to the trenches he sighs, Nasarawa a state in the north-central geo-political zone Nigeria with an annoying temperature pattern and a diversity of people of different tribes. The Yorubas, Igbos, and the home people the Hausa’s then the lesser ethnic tribes like the Tiv people, etc. Nasarawa the state of solid minerals, he calls it “The Trenches”, normally not home to him but in service of his country he finds himself there, not by his choice maybe it fits into a Higher Powers divine plan. He takes his time in “The trenches” like a good soldier, never complaining, making good out of a seemingly annoying situation, conditioning himself to handle the heat, the cold and the distance from home. Its all part of the training, learning to serve, teaching in a form of giving back to the society that gave him so much. The kids at the school he teaches,really lovely mostly annoying kids, but you can’t blame them the didn’t get the right education, in his one year there its his job to try to inspire.
The Public address system announces his flight is now boarding, he stoically heads to the departure gate bags in hand, the world ahead of him, he utters under his breath “BACK TO THE TRENCHES”.

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