.. this one is dedicated to my community, you know who you are, happy three years of Signed, N.A.! ..

Allow Me to Introduce Myself by Onyi Nwabineli is a masterful portrayal of community; an exploration of loneliness, community, and the ties that not only bind, but uplift.

The tale is centered around Aṅụrị, a twenty-something who has been severally disappointed by those biologically predisposed to love and protect her most. On the one hand, a result of simple, unadorned tragedy, on the other, an ambivalence so intense it reeks of malice, but is really just grief in pernicious disguise. Aṅụrị is the Igbo word for happiness, a name bestowed on this protagonist with all the best intent as the very fact of her existence is a miracle, but which the universe seems to interpret as a summons to the exercise of irony.

Despite the unfortunate circumstances that shadow Aṅụrị’s beginnings with the antithesis of her name, a hodgepodge of loved ones encircle and bolster Aṅụrị with an unmatched determination to see to her triumph. Even while battling extremely conspicuous yet illusively indescribable hardships, working through anxiety and addiction, and being weighed down by grief and sorrow, Aṅụrị’s journey is undeniable proof of the power of community. Loving grandparents who always provide refuge at a moments notice; an aunt with an unmatched ability to simultaneously exude annoyance, sarcasm, and maternal comfort; friends who are endearingly omnipresent; and a new somebody who might actually be willing to endure increasing levels of weirdness. Aṅụrị’s tribulations, while novel and niche, stand no chance against the bulwark of loving humans erected around her.

I devoured this enthralling book as my year of travels nears a close, and I found myself reflecting on the community I have built or reconnected with as I’ve bounced around the world. I made new friends in Mexico City and Bogotá, I rekindled with old ones in Toronto and Panama City, I met up with travel buddies in Cartagena and Salvador, and I was welcomed with warm hugs and tea time every time I returned to DC. Along this sojourn, my community has shown up for me in too many ways to describe, manifesting itself in people and places I never expected.

There was a time in my life that I lamented my inability to host a birthday party with all my closest friends, given that they were all strewn around the world. Barring a huge life event, there is nothing I could reasonably expect all of them to show up in one place for. The hilarity here is that I don’t even like parties, never mind hosting them! This random longing to wine, dine, and entertain was likely just an instance of envy, and I chuckle at the memory now. Nonetheless, I am now living a life I could never have a imagined, and my community consistently pops up to it-takes-a-village me in ways I could never have imagined. Turns out they were right where I needed them to be all along.

When I started this blog three years ago (today!), I took on the moniker N.A., nwanyị akwukwọ, acknowledging that I was embarking on a journey of learning and discovery of the unknown. This year of travel has been a spectacular extension of that initiative, and I’m confident it will continue to be. What I was not expecting however, was that a year I expected to be one of my loneliest yet – it many ways it has been as loneliness is pretty much unavoidable as a solo traveler – has also taught me so much about community. Similar to Nwabineli’s Aṅụrị, my community continues to gently nudge and lovingly uplift me into the realization of my name.

Signed,

N.A.