Cathy turned me on to Uber over the past few months. Admittedly, at first the notion of riding in someone's car to an airport not driving a yellow cab with the funny little light on the roof was a little unnerving. I'm not really sure how to explain it other than to say I am a creature of habit and am accustomed to hopping in a taxi to my final destination.
After a long week in Toronto, Canada, I was looking forward to getting to my apartment, re-packing my backpack and driving the two hours to Green Acres--a.k.a. our Alabama house. Despite the wonderful folks in Ontario and the laughs many of us shared while there, to sleep in my own bed after a week away was something I longed for, and wanted to do as quickly as possible.
I ordered up an Uber on my new-fangled Uber app I downloaded a couple weeks prior. Notification was given that my driver, Obi, would pick me up in his black Hyundai four door car. He threw my bag in the trunk and I plopped my pack next to it, jumped into his Hyundai then clicked my seatbelt (safety first!).
Obi asked me about my flight and where I was returning from; the usual idle chit-chat between two strangers attempting to pass time until they part. I told him I had been in Toronto and was happy to be back in the United States as he nodded his head in the affirmative.
"Yes, there's no place like the U.S. It is the best country in the world."
His accent was smooth and fluid, not quite Caribbean, not entirely British, and certainly not French. His remarks made my ears perk up so I asked where he was from originally. "Nigeria," he replied.
I told him about my fascination with the African continent and how I wanted to spend a lot of time there. Obi explained how much the people of Nigeria loved visitors and how they open their homes to foreigners.
Our discussion drifted to how he came to America; he won a government sanctioned lottery that allows fifty thousand aliens to acquire green cards and work toward citizenship. The amazing thing? There were millions of applications and Obi was one of the chosen few--a golden ticket winner!
I asked him about Nigeria and he told me about the beauty of its people and the staggering corruption of the government. "We have oil and other resources, but the president and politicians keep da' money for themselves. They do not care about the people. In America, the government cares about its citizens, and that is why I am here.
"There is so much in America. We have all da' resources and the opportunity to succeed if you work hard. I just bought my own car and I work hard to send my mom and siblings a little money so they can eat.
"In Nigeria, the children are lucky to get one meal a day. They work all day instead of going to school, and that is sad because there are so many very smart people there."
Naturally, our conversation drifted to politics, but my mind was on what he told me about his home country. He asked who I was supporting for president and was quick to point out how adept the U.S. government was and how the American people took care of one another.
As he spoke, I continued to think about his mom, brothers, and sisters Obi left behind in Nigeria. I wondered how much food they had each day and whether or not he was able to send enough money to give them a second meal each day.
When our conversation (and ride) ended, I was so happy to have met such a gracious man. Some day I hope to run into him again, but in the meantime I allow my mind to drift to Africa...
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