Omo Omi.
It was approaching nightfall at the time I started walking back to my group. I was told by a mallam that the last boat leaves the dock around this time and I should hurry back or preferably run at this point. I took the part where he said to hurry and didn’t see it necessary to run, I was confident I wasn’t going to be left behind. I set off for my stroll back to our beach hut which was quite a distance so I decided to take it slow and steady. I was soaking up the ambiance of the beach, the sun was setting and I could see a hint of the moon. I’m sure it was brighter but not having my glasses really messes with my eyesight. As I walked, I could hear men and children groan. I turned to look over. I saw the mallam and other locals struggling with their banana boat from the shore, I stood and watched them struggle even harder until the boat reached shore and they all hopped in quickly. Before they could dash off I waved them goodnight and smiled. There was no response. I only got a look of disgust and the mallam shook his head in disappointment. I thought my thick accent was what threw him off but I tried my best to be polite despite the hassle it took for him to understand that all I wanted was a cigarette.
