Eko Hotel and Suites

The sea weed sauce was bland, overly plain, and my tongue felt like paper.
Mother's taste was too aggravated, too bourgeois and I didn't want all that bowel gratification drama.

All I wanted was Chinese.

I had heard they had the best Sushi. We had, as usual, lodged at the prestigious five-star Eko Hotel and Suites for one of my mother's many detailed work conferences. It was funny how often she clutched me like her private purse to her many work travels.

"The world of opulence is like a large sandwich and you too need to take a small bite," she would say in her rosy bird, sing-song, high pitched English.

Twice we had visited the prestigious Eko Hotel and Suites. Last year, her Cousin Magnus from London had rented a grand sized hall for his wedding reception. I was blown away by the scenery, the luminescent encumbrance of the chandelier bearing down on everyone like a festival of lights, the posh intricacies of both corporate and aesthetic ambience meshed into perfection, the laudable drapes fastened to decored windows and graceful awnings, the air conditioned bliss of breathing in safe air. I had at that day immersed myself into the realization of a world of perfection, of realism and posh orderliness. That perhaps, Eko Hotel and Suiteswas one of Nigeria's finest.

And now, Sushi floated in my subconscious, a yearning for a taste of something bizzare yet true to the taste buds. Mother could read my thoughts, knew what I wanted. Finally she beckoned to the waitress, graceful as a swan, the waitress appeared, cladded in her crisp uniform void of crease.

"I'll have a plate of Sushi for my son here and please bring along a bottle of Veletta."

Within a minute or two I had my eyes glaring into a platter of sticky rice, vegetables, meat and fish, with my cutlery in hand, ready to stuff my eager mouth with Chinese.

The days that followed were colourful, mother had decided we take a tour to stretch our legs, to soak in relaxant air, to feel the gentle breeze nudging the palm trees that swayed as if paying obeisance to the Olympic sized blue coloured pool. The urban rise of the storeyed Eko Hotel and Suites building was a wonder to behold, the stately homes and gardens and parks were a display of artistry at its best. The layout of the mini planned streets plagued with mild mannered guests had me wonder for long if we were still in Nigeria. And I wouldn't forget too quickly that crushingly sad desire not to leave, that detailed consciousness of dwelling within a vicinity blessed with serenity, beauty, grandness and bliss.

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