Tell The Nations: My autobiography of 580 pages : The book I worked on for over 15 years, came off the press last July. Looking back, I wonder how the dream of completing the book came true. However, it is true. Here, I write of my background, my World view, in my village in Africa. I tell of adventures in life in: Africa – Europe – and – America.
TELL THE NATIONS
WILL AND WAY
That day was of its kind “… Destined to destiny” I determined…!
“No smoking” signs were on. I fastened my seat-belts, so to be loyal to the order. Air Hostess was instructing through the sound system. Delta airline’s jet was still swaying in the air. At this point we were descending towards our destination: Los Angeles International Airport.
Los Angeles looked larger and larger. Buildings grew bigger and bigger, from the ground. Freeways, those above the buildings and those on the ground: Both were wider, when we neared to the ground. The sky was smoky, hazy sky.
* * *
That morning, July 25th 1993: I was still on the other part of the planet. The day I was ready and well equipped to face over twenty hours in the air.
Heading home, after several years in The States, was a sense of relief to me.
* * *
Portland was my departure point. Los Angeles was the stopover. Amsterdam would the city to spend the night. Moreover, my destination was supposed to be my home: Kilimanjaro International airport.
I was convinced that I had to confront three continents – America – Europe – Africa.
* * *
Skylines were smaller from the sky. I cast a glance. Through the flight’s glassy window, I could gaze the city moving backwards. Meanwhile, monstrous mansions of Malibu looked like cottages. Freeways were no longer wider. Strange streets of Los Angeles looked as, roads for rats. Vehicles were moving. But they appeared to be like toys.
KLM airline flight soared higher and higher. Then the large, Los Angeles City was lost behind and below.
* * *
That evening, post my departure my mind flashed back… My mind took a trip to my very first tour to abroad: Voyage that took place over decades ago. For my very first time I crossed my continent. Cairo was left behind below. London was ahead. Munich was supposed to be the destination.
Since my first trip serial trips had taken place. And, post this particular one, several came to pass.
While on the way – still in the sky – I couldn’t forget my books. I had published two of them. The rest manuscripts were but a distant dream. However, since it was a constant compulsion, I concentrated on….
Somewhere, above Atlantic, I was asleep.
* * *
I woke up, still in the sky – I longed to land. I was anxious to step on the soil. I was sick and tired with the sky. Above all, I was overwhelmed with westernization. I was homesick.
That morning, as we landed at, Schiphol International Airport, I acknowledged that I was almost half way home.
To Be Continued