I traversed through the north of Nigeria, rushing through forests that hid caves and tall hills. I watched the clouds and the sun sail with the fading day. Evening took the cakes and made them sour, while bananas ripened under the blazing sun. The wind was lively, blowing fine dust and gathering soot from distant burning bushes. At times, we engaged with the Fulani and their cattle—marching through thickets with livestock, crawling over the dark floors of lush forests. Waterfalls, bridges, and the sound of pebbles hitting the water accompanied us, along with birds flying in echelon above the fast-moving bus. We entered Abuja, Nigeria’s center of unity. Abuja was welcoming and told me many stories—ones I may never forget quickly.

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Bridges connected land over water, and we rode swiftly through this land. Benue seemed dull, while her tributaries glowed in the strange heat and bright sunshine. I saw two goats fighting savagely near Lokoja; their horns locked, with no intention of separating, causing deep wounds. Drops of blood marked their struggle near a river, while another goat drank peacefully from the water.