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I stared down at the green and the red book. Weighing them in my hands, I began to understand that having two identities wasn’t a seesaw, or a pair of scales. I was British, and I was Nigerian. Both sides had equal weight in shaping who I was. Others would want me to choose between them. They would want to know on which side my heart, head and soul lay. Looking at the green and red books, I saw that was a false choice. I could rip myself in two trying to find an answer, or I could reject the question. I was both. I was an indivisible whole.
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