The word home as a concept is quite complex. If it has not been at the center of many saddening and joyful stories, there is a feeling it would be considered a mere four lettered word. As a concept, it is a tough one. Houses have stood with homes crumbling. This brings to mind the need to question its makeup.
Opinions from all sides of life must be respected. Home for some is joy. It is a place of comfort. For others, it is sadness. It is a kind of place you go with your weapons of war. Home has defined living for many. Home is defining living for many. Home will define living for many. Every story contains a bit from childhood. And childhood home at its center. And life, as it is known, is not fair. Everyone receives different sides.
This is an article to challenge home. This is an article to be left to live a life of its own with no defense.
Home is many things for me. But at its core, it is only a single thing – I am home. It is not a location. A physical building cannot hold that level of influence over lives.
In the classical African setting, home is somewhere you tell your friends you are going. But for me, home is where I am. For a Nigerian medical student, it is somewhere to be at once or twice a year.
Home could be many things for different people at different times. In its fundamental basis, it is not complete without bringing in the concept of time. At different times, many things and places defined home for every one of us.
For me, home is waking up each day. It is fellow-shipping with God every morning. Home is dressing up for class and running to catch a cab to school. It is seeing the beautiful faces of my classmates. Home is as simple as receiving a call from a loved one. Home is something as beautiful as receiving a call from my mother. It is the sum of the people that shape my emotions daily.
Home is poetry. It is storytelling. It is therapeutic. Storytelling is therapeutic. Home is therapeutic. It is something that brings joy and happiness. A medicine to my wounded heart on days it feels everything is going to end.
Home is opening my textbooks and seeing a reflection of the patients I will take of in the future. It is remembering how my mother sat me down every evening to read and how I escaped to football field some days. It is how my father gave me novels to read.
Home is not split. It is a single place. Home is somewhere I can go without telling anyone.
We can do ourselves a favour by breaking down the cage we have put around things. And we can make things better by freeing up ourselves a bit. How can you make something physical home?
When next someone ask you where you are from be sure of their intention. If the purpose is to make a diagnosis of why you act the way you do, tell them home is you.
Everything you see in yourself is home. Home is not somewhere. It is a summation of everything that has shaped you. Home is you. Try this and see how free you would be expressing where you are from. Where you are from is not a location. It is a summation of things that have formed you. Home is the joy, the sadness, the tears, and everything you can name in you. It is not an experience of a place you cannot connect with. Do not let anyone define you with something you cannot connect with.
When next someone asks where is home tell them home is you. Be proud. Home could be reconstructed into something beautiful. Home is you. It means home is still the you under construction. The next question to ask is “how do I improve home?”