It was a normal working day on a hot and usually dusty afternoon in Yaounde when I got the call to come and collect my Visa for my upcoming trip to Italy. I was elated. It had been 17 years since I had last seen my foster aunts and cousins. I was beside myself. I distinctly remember my trip back to wish my father goodbye and how emotional I was because I knew that somehow I will not see him for a long while. I remember the bus trip back to Yaounde and how surreal it all felt (especially since there was a job interview lined up in Munich). Me on the bus (in the middle of nowhere) on my way back to Yaounde. Clearly I was too excited to sleep (like someone next to me). I was already missing my lovely Cameroon. On the news, the coronavirus (covid-19) was beginning to show its ugly head in Italy and various other neighbouring countries. My aunt even told me to postpone my trip, but it was too late. I was already packed. Don't mess with a black man and his luggage! Me, mysel...
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