Sometime last year, I flew with Arik Air from Liberia to Ghana. I changed seats because they had put me by an exit door. The plane had a lot of empty seats and I relocated to the back. Not long after the seat-belt signs had been switched off, a fine specimen of an air host came to find out if I was comfortable and somehow the conversation drifted to my nationality and how I didn’t look Nigerian. Then we talked about Lagos and how I wouldn’t want to live there because it was too rambunctious for me. While he tried to convince me how lovely Lagos, I wondered whether he had forgotten that he had work to do. As if on cue, his colleague appeared, quietly her hands on his shoulders and pushed him off, apologizing that he had work to do. “we’ll finish this conversation later” he smiled as he let himself be whisked away.