Diary Of An Illegal Immigrant: America at Last

Five hours and forty-three minutes after the plane landed, I was finally free. I was in America. Tunde was waiting and worried.

“What happened?” he asked as soon as I walked out of Customs.

When I told him, he laughed so hard tears were streaming down his eyes. Then, he grabbed me in those firm, muscular arms of his and lifted me up right outside the arrival hall.

“Welcome to America, my darling,” he said in a soft, happy voice.

I looked at America in the fading light and shrugged in surprise. I had imagined a sunny city with people so happy it’s infectious. I had even glimpsed the sun and seen the people from the customs area.

Now, it was dark and gloomy and a little bit chilly. It was late September. I’m told this is the fall season – the prelude to winter. People were wearing knickers and shorts. But, I was freezing.

If it ever gets this cold at any time of the year in my country, they may well declare a national emergency. Not that it would help much though because the last time a president declared a national emergency, it was about the infrequent power supply. At that time, we had power six hours every day. After he declared it a national emergency, we were lucky to have power six hours every week.

But, why worry about the cold, I told myself. I was with the love of my life.

“I told you, didn’t I? Our children will be Americans,” Tunde said, reminding me of a promise he made to me on the phone during one of his thousands of calls.

“And I told you, there is no place like home. We will stay here for a few years and go back home,” I responded.

“You call that place a country! With all those illiterates in power,” he hissed.

At that moment, Nigeria was the farthest thing from my mind. I was in God’s own country. Why worry about the devil’s backyard? I pulled Tunde closer and kissed him. His lips were cold and chapped. But, it was the best kiss I’ve had in four years. Heck, it was my first kiss in four years.

“I’ve made the best plan for your start in America,” Tunde announced. “Tonight, we sleep at the Hilton. Tomorrow, we’re going to Atlantic City for the weekend. It’s going to be a blast”.

I wanted him to keep talking. I loved that he was still a romantic. I loved the sound of his voice. I even loved the faint lisp that creeps into his speech sometimes. He was cute. He could be sitting on a toilet right now and I’ll think he’s the cutest thing on God’s earth.
Continued at http://bosediary.com


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