Tell us about your first day at something — school, work, as a parent, etc.

My first day in Kano, 1973

First time out of Europe

For the younger me

Quite a revelation

So much life to see.

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Six hour flight from London

And yet a world away

I’d often been a stranger

Lived a lot abroad

But Kano was quite different

To anywhere I’d been.

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Getting off the aircraft

It was the heat hit me.

I wasn’t used to heat at night

It felt a little strange.

And then, to state the obvious

Well everyone was black.

They belonged, were all at home

And I the odd one out.

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I was met there at the airport

By a British Council man

And drove with him

Through Kano streets

That first and memorable time.

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It felt like 3D cinema

The picture on all sides

Bewildering, lively, colourful

Too vibrant to be real.

Handcarts, cars and bicycles

Motorcycles too

And of course pedestrians

With bundles on their heads.

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There seemed no rhyme or reason

A bewildering busy throng.

The sights, the sounds,

the heat, the smells

Came at us from all sides.

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Kano is spectacular

A city made of mud

Well baked in Saharan sun

It’s quite as good as bricks.

There’s modern buildings too of course

But none that looked like home.

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I’m booked to stay that first night

in Kano’s Central Hotel

Unused to air conditioning

it is an awful row.

I don’t sleep well that awful noise

And strangely I’m too cold.

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It may have been that evening

Or perhaps the following day

That I was persuaded to venture out

With other VSOs.

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I’m never quite sure how it is

They mark you out as new.

Perhaps it is the pallid face

Or something in your walk

But every beggar in the town

Makes beeline straight for you.

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I did not know the money

Certainly had no coins

But embarrassedly looking

Was enough to make it worse.

You must be surreptitious

Or just not give at all

For any hint that you might give

Will just make things much worse.

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There were happier

more impressive sights:

The grace, the colourful clothes.

So many in traditional dress

Respecting who they were.

Two years of happy days spent there

But won’t forget my first.

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When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?

When did I feel grown up?

I’ll need to have a think.

It comes with independence

And living on your own.

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You could say as a student

I started to grow up.

I lived away but shamed to say

Would still take washing home.

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I’d come home to play football

So often back weekends

But kind of living on my own

And learning from mistakes.

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But when I finished college

At the age of twenty one

I volunteered, two years abroad

A proper break from home.

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Two years in Nigeria

A long, long way from home.

This was in the seventies

So only letters home.

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Back then you couldn’t FaceTime

E Mail hadn’t come

Phone calls cost a fortune

So much that I made none.

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So that’s real independence

And you are on your own

Two of us shared a government house

In Kano, far from home.

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The house came with a steward

Which kind of blew our minds.

We weren’t used to servants

But to sack him too unkind.

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Ali was the greatest

He’d cook and help us shop

But we were his employers

And so I guess grown ups.

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It was such a different culture

Colourful extreme

It felt at first like a film set

That none of it was real.

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We learnt to live a different life

We learnt how to adapt.

Kano was a special place

It helped me to grow up.

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We rode around on motor bikes

The first I’d ever owned

To own a driving license

Is a fairly adult thing.

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Our jobs were quite responsible

For kids right out of college

Filling in for Nigerians

All off to take degrees.

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I got more from Africa

Then it ever did from me.

A brilliant place for growing up

The best time of our lives.

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