The Day I Carried My Entire Village to the Airport
I still remember the day like it was yesterday.
My visa had finally come through.
-
Six months. Tourist. First international trip.
You couldn’t tell me anything. I was already seeing myself sipping hot chocolate in Hyde Park, accent on 100, coat blowing in the wind. I even updated my Instagram bio to “London girl 🇬🇧” before leaving the house. Pride? Overfed.
My flight was scheduled for 6:55am Sunday morning.
So, naturally, I waited until Saturday night at 10pm to start packing. Why? Because, as always, I thought I had it under control.
Big mistake.
By 2:30am, I was still packing. Not clothes, no. I had entered that typical Nigerian travel frenzy. My bags contained:
- A travel iron (because “What if the hotel iron is not original?”)
- Electric kettle
- 4 pairs of jeans for a 10-day trip
- My faithful bucket (which had traveled more than me)
- Garri, groundnut, and one roll of TomTom
- Two Ankara wrappers, “in case you enter cold,” according to my mum
I weighed the big box on our bathroom scale—28kg. I smiled. That smile didn’t last.
Fast-forward to the airport.
I rolled in with one large box, one carry-on, a backpack that looked like it was carrying secrets, and, of course, a Ghana-Must-Go I had stylishly disguised with a scarf. I thought I looked well put together until the lady at the check-in desk looked me over and said:
“Sorry ma, are you relocating?”
I laughed politely. “No, just vacation.”
She smiled back — that kind of smile that says, okay, let’s see about that.
Then came the scales.
Bag 1: 28kg
Carry-on: 12kg
Backpack: 9kg
Mystery Ghana-Must-Go: 6kg
She blinked. Then leaned in and whispered,
“You’re over by 21kg. You’ll need to either remove some items or pay ₦85,000 for excess.”
₦85,000? For what? For carrying my ancestors?
My heart dropped. I began opening my bags like a woman possessed. People watched as I tried to redistribute garri, offer sachets of Milo to strangers, and fold wrappers into my winter jacket. One woman beside me muttered, “This is why I book my trips through Konga Travel. They give you a full itinerary and proper prep tips — not this your one-woman relocation drama.”
Omo, I felt that.
In the end, I offloaded enough items to make it through without selling a kidney. My cousin came to pick up the extras (and is now the proud owner of a brand new kettle and 2.5kg of ogbono).
I finally boarded, collapsed into my window seat, and just stared out into the tarmac like a Nollywood star reflecting on life.
I learned never to carry my whole house on vacation.
Travel is meant to be soft. Stress-free. Stylish. Light.
Whether you’re planning a baecation, solo escape, family holiday, or any international trip, pack with sense, not vibes. And honestly, if I had sent an email to Konga Travel, I’d have had access to proper travel guides, curated hotel deals, smooth visa support, and even those fancy travel sets that make you look like a seasoned jet-setter, not a local champion on tour.
My next International trip? I’m doing it the luxury way. No more Ghana-Must-Go. And no more embarrassment. Definitely, no more kettles.
Just vibes, light luggage, and luxury, the way Konga Travel intended.
