Mark Ademola looked through the window of the plane as it continued its descent. The atmosphere was clear, it was going to be an uneventful end to an uneventful flight, which was good. He was back to his world, the place where he belonged.
Lagos was home; crazy and sometimes frustrating but home all the same.
He craned his neck to see if he could spot his street or his house. It was a habit he had that was yet to yield any results. Though he saw several roads and several houses, he never saw his own. Leaning back in his seat, he wondered why he kept trying; it was never going to happen.
A few minutes later the plane stopped and the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign went off.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Murtala Muhammed Airport, Lagos.” The Captain announced. “The time is 9:15am…”
Mark ignored the mumbling Pilot and unfastened his seatbelt. It was crazy that he still needed to go to the office after the strenuous week he just had but that was his life. He stood from his seat and reached for the overhead cabinet. He opened it and removed his luggage.
Chop! Chop! Let’s go.
“Could you help me get my bag, please?” A rather compelling female voice called from behind him.
He looked back to see who the voice belonged to. He stopped at the sight that faced him. She looked at him with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.