I was one of the first people to board the aircraft and therefore, I had plenty of time to place my hand luggage in the overhead compartment, settle in and listen to some music before other passengers began to troop in.
From takeoff, I had drifted to my memories that had become jumbled and in disarray in the recesses of my mind.
I wanted to fully understand why my parents were the way they were and why their marriage went off the rails.
I knew I had promised myself that I wouldn't think about their problems or even care about them at all but every time I closed my eyes, the questions kept pricking at me.
So, I returned to the stories and numerous conversations I had with my parents from when I was able to completely understand spoken words, starting with my mother's side.
My mom, Zikorah Okorie didn't have the best life.
Growing up in post-civil war Nigeria wasn't a bed of roses.
