Rudolf Ogoo Okonkwo

New York City, USA

Saturday, October 1, 2005

It really pains me to bid you farewell. Since you have ceased to be accommodating, since you have listened to those misguided fellows at Whitehall, 10 Downing Street and Westminster Abbey, since you have allowed yourself to be a tool in the hands of all those who wish to embarrass me, I have decided to take my leave.

I had always suspected that the concept of our marriage and its associated commonwealth did not have a deep root in you. To you, it was not for better and for worse. Once Thames River got stirred, you panicked. I regret that I did not follow my instinct when I sensed the shallowness of your commitment. That was my Waterloo.

How you just decided to throw away precious memories, years of history during which we played and partied, is beyond me. Generation of politicians before me, Festus Okotie-Eboh, Adisa Akinloye, Umaru Dikko, etc. etc. landed on your lap to enjoy the perks of their offices. You welcomed them with open arms. From Harrods to St. Paul's, from Buckingham Palace to Soho, you pampered them. They rewarded you with silver and gold. Why are you turning against me now?

My generation did not do anything overboard. Despite what M16 and the Scotland Yard are saying, we did not acquire the Tower of London as a souvenir. We did not write our names on top of Albert Hall. And I swear by the Queen, we did not award the contract to build a replica of the Millennium Dome to John Major's 12 year old son. We did secure our future with Lloyds of London - which was an important thing to do. We simply took it a notch up. After all, this is the 21st century and we needed to take things to a new level.

Now, I have to find another city, in another country, that will provide equal fun. Trust me, I will. It may not be as dazzling as Piccadilly Circus. It may not be as sparkling as Victoria Memorial. It may not have a population of Nigerians as numerous as the pigeons of Trafalgar square- which means, less people to show off to. But it will do, for now.

I am looking at places as far away as Bangkok and Brasilia. I may not speak their language, but I sure know how to sip their wine. I may not read their signs, but I know how to serenade their women. I may not worship the same God as they do, but I am pretty sure they will worship me as soon as they see my suitcase full of dollar bills.

Ask them at the East End, they will tell you the economic importance of having me around. At Regent's Park, Hyde Park, Canary Wharf, my footprints will remain forever. Inside the Underground, at London Bridge station, I used to hear "mind the gap". Now I know what the gap meant. It meant that despite our age long romance, there is a gap between the idea and the reality.

I will miss you, London. I will miss your TV show, Coupling. But I know you will miss me more. In the long run, you will be the one that will regret this most. The Black cabs will miss my groupies. Rockwell at Trafalgar Hilton will miss my techno parties. Sunken Garden will be less splendid without me.

There are many other places to go for medical check up, if you do not know. I heard that in the Caribbean and across many islands, a welcome mat awaits me with well connected banks that ask no questions. They may not have a loud Big Ben, but what really matters is the Ben in my bag. They may not have an imposing Liverpool Street Station, but also, they do not have a nosy BBC, Evening Standard and News of the World that scared the House of Commons into screaming for divorce between me and you, my beloved London.

There are many other places to go and die, if you do not know. I heard that Damascus is not such a bad place, after all.

Your loss will apparently be someone else's gain. Just like you made your own Chunnel to Paris, I will find my route to a new place I will call home. For now, a home may be anywhere Chateau Petrus could be readily found with spice girls to help gulp it and blow off candles.

Wherever I decide to settle, you can be sure that I will send you a postcard. It may not have me sitting in front of Kensington Palace, but you can bet it will be a palace nonetheless.

Goodbye, London and thanks for the good time we had.

Rudolf Ogoo Okonkwo is a New York based freelance writer. His first book, Children of a Retired God, will be published by Iroko Productions.