As I stood with a tumbler filled with gin in my right hand, heightened nerves and trepidation overcame me. I was standing in front of the final burial and resting place of my Nigerian adoptive father. It was summer of 2022—the first time I was able to travel to Calabar and see my adoptive family since his passing in 2020. COVID was of course to blame, as it prevented me from traveling. Prior to this, I fondly recall phone calls (and messaging via WhatsApp) from my home in Ohio (USA) with my adoptive mother and the rest of the family about his passing. Yet even with my amplified anxiety as I stood there, I was also oddly calm and at peace. The comfort of my adoptive mother and brothers standing beside me helped subdue the restlessness I felt.
I was about to pour libation to my adoptive Papa with the...