So How Did I Get From Nigeria To Shark Diving, You Ask? Let me tell you about Nigeria first…
After breathing in the suffocating air in the non- AC Murtala Muhammed International Airport, I take my place in the long security line. According to the couple in front of me, the line hadn’t budged in the last 20 minutes. I take out my phone and so begins my current Diner Dash addiction. Roughly 10 minutes later, a man approaches me with the ever so tantalizing “Sista! Sista! How long have you been waiting?” I give him my since-perfected-Naija-“fuck off”side-eye and with one glance at my Nigerian passport, he moves on to the family behind me. FYI–I can’t speak in Nigeria, once my “Americanah” accent comes out, it’s a wrap for me.

Returning Back To Lagos
I hadn’t been back to Lagos in about 14 years and it was about damn time I went back to my motherland. I was a child when I left Lagos, so most of my memories consisted of being ruler slapped by teachers for disobedience, eating yummy street meats, the smoldering heat, and okadas (dangerous motorcycle “taxis”. Don’t do it if you like mobility of your limbs). I moved to The States late 1999 and have both a Nigerian and United States passport. Honestly, I let my Nigerian passport expire and predominately used my US passport for most of my travels. I decided to visit Lagos in 2015 and that was when I renewed my Nigerian passport. My first impression when I walked out of the airport was a moment of pure confusion. The heat instantly creates a film of sweat on your skin, drivers yelling to find their passengers, friends and family screaming in laughter as they reconcile. Such utter chaos and I’d never been so excited to be with my people again! First things first, what Lagos feels you feel. The city changed my mood in 0.5 seconds depending on whom I was speaking to. Nigerians are a very expressive people (all Nigerians must be Leos), and can influence your mood faster than you can say Prozac. So if a hawker was aggressive towards me, I just had to breathe through it. Otherwise I found myself on the losing end of a screaming match in the middle of horrible traffic. By the way, the traffic in Lagos is so real it sometimes felt hella personal. The only great thing about the traffic jam is the plantain chips, sausage rolls (that always tastes better than the ones in stores), great Nollywood movies, Mentos, and car chargers you can buy while waiting in Lagos traffic. On the other hand, when I’m surrounded by happy Nigerians, I feel like I am bursting with glee. The happiness and laughter is literally so contagious, not even Eeyore could be depressed. Where do you find happy Lagosians you ask? Any gathering that contains food and/or music. Lagosians are the definition of turning up (even though we are at minimum 2 hours late for most social events).
Returning to Nigeria made me realize two things:
1) People can and will abuse (meaning: tease) you so I had to develop my quick tongue and drop the sensitivity. 2) The food is so amazing that I had an extra jiggle in my thighs. But with the sweating from the heat, it evens out right? I became a suya addict, a popular delicious street meat, but I use the word ‘meat’ loosely because you might be eating cow…you might be eating donkey…what doesn’t kill you right? All in all, I enjoyed each and every seemingly infuriating thing the city had to offer, because for every annoyance there were probably 5 redeeming moments around the corner. In the midst of the traffic and all the wahala, Lagosians were extremely lively and hilarious people at heart who wear their hearts on their sleeves. I came in with little expectations, but left with a new love and respect for my country and its people.
But wait, did I tell you this Nigerian also traveled to South Africa? Talk about breaking a black stereotype moment..kinda…
SO I can’t swim, but I went shark diving.
During my trip to South Africa, I found myself in a car on the way to Gansbaai, one of the largest homes to Great White sharks. My travel friends wanted to go shark cage diving. I was completely opposed to the idea but I’m a team player. I get on the boat, enjoy a drink, and get my melanin on while these fools decide to test their fate shark diving.
- I’m already here
- I already paid for it
- Don’t be a baby and so forth.

“SHARK!! GO DOWN, GO DOWN”
The shark diving guide yells and down I go! I plunge myself into the FREEZING water and I swear my heart stopped. I felt terror, anxiety and uncertainty all at the same time. Almost instantaneously two looming sharks whizz past us lunging at the bait! Instinctively, I screamed (still underwater by the way) allowing a wave of gross salty, chumm-y sea water into my mouth. Flailing everywhere I pull myself up for air and start laughing uncontrollably. (Apparently, in terrifying, knee-weakening situations, laughing like a maniac is my coping mechanism.) I caught my breath and after a chiding from the shark diving guide for flailing everywhere, I was ready for round two!

I mean, if I can go Great White shark diving in South Africa without knowing how to swim….Who gon check me boo?


About The Author
Taiwo is a Nigerian blogger who runs the site Made In Nigeria and writes for various airline magazines. She also works as a business consultant and wants everyone to know she married a doctor. You can follow her sarcasm and funny jokes by following her on the social media buttons below:
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