I got myself a white little dress with a gold buckle down the middle. I got me a pair of black low heel shoes. I packed them in my little camouflage green rucksack. I was driven down to the airport by my good old pal Grace. I checked myself in using the little machine.
I got myself thoroughly checked at the security and migration gate.

I kept in touch with a few friends while at it because the airport has a good and free wireless internet connection.
Then I checked my boarding pass and confirmed the boarding gate. When I got to gate B28 I checked my boarding pass again. Then I looked at the waiting area. No one in sight. I asked a security guy around. He had no idea what I was talking about. Then I got into a mini panic. I could not see anyone or anything that implied my flight was in sight. I checked the boarding pass another time.
Clearly I was at the right spot but in the wrong place. I panicked some more.
I could not imagine missing the flight.

I prayed deeply and finally was informed of another gate which was far away!
I started to run. I have seen folks running at airports before; perhaps I have even reprimanded a few in my head and here I was running for dear life, searching for the new gate.
Please note that I had forgotten my travelling jacket and fleece blanket at home. I had grabbed alittle blanket from one of the airport shops.
When I finally got to the ‘right’ gate I was out of breath. The muzungu man and wife who received me on the other side smiled reassuringly. The flight had not left me and yes! There was a mix-up on the gates. The flight was delayed by two hours.
I was not too sure what to feel. Relief or frustration? It took me a while to regain my breath. Ooh my!

I walked around some more just to allow myself breath normally. My head was full of complaints! Did these people have an idea how anxious I was not to miss the flight?
The flight had many infants and many were screaming with irritation as the aircraft hit the run way. You would understand.

The flight was meant to have taken off at least two and half hours ago. Even I as an adult would have been significantly irritated was it not for the guy from Haiti who had decided that I was good company. He kept me engaged as he shared loads of pictures and stories of his lovely wife along with three daughters. I listened and smiled in our mainly one sided conversation.
I like folks like him. They talk and talk while I listen and listen some more and learn.
I throw in a question and get lengthy detailed answers. It is a great way to pass time.

- mirembeabola@gmail.com