Chapter 1: Opening Image
Ada sighed. She had worked her ass off to get a scholarship, leaving her family and Lagos behind. She was moving into the International House, where she hoped she would meet students from different backgrounds and immerse herself into the mosaic multiculturalism this place had to offer.ada's eyes traveled towards the worn, polished books neatly stacked on the wooden bookshelves. They were all her prized possessions, acquired through countless hours spent hunched over in the library of Lagos University. "Determined" was the word she would choose to describe herself. Stepping off the elevator and making her way down the dimly lit, marble-floored hallway, Ada couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency swell within her. The American university was a far cry from the bustling, noisy university in Lagos she had left behind, but the electric energy of change tugged at her inside.Reaching her dorm room, she paused for a moment before placing her hand on the cold brass doorknob.Taking a deep breath, she swung the door open to reveal her new living space, which she would call home for the next couple of years. Ada's eyes immediately took in the familiar sight of her favorite Ghanaian wall art that she had brought with her, but her gaze drifted to the unfamiliar faces of the students who had already claimed their territory within the room.A young man stood in the corner of the room, his sandy blonde hair sticking up in every direction as he unpacked a box filled with textbooks.Michael, an American student hailing from the Midwest, took notice of the charming woman standing in the doorway. His gaze shifted towards her, taking in the striking features of her elegantly high cheekbones and her almond-shaped eyes framed by thick, dark lashes."Um, hello," Michael said, cautiously approaching her. "I don't believe we've met?"No, you haven't," Ada replied, her voice as rich as a velvet ribbon unwrapped."I just moved in."Michael smiled, offering his hand. "Michael. Nice to meet you."The scent of jollof rice and fried plantains lingered in her nostrils; a comforting reminder of home. The walls of her dorm room were draped in vibrant kente cloths from her village, juxtaposed against modern minimalist furniture.Ada shook his hand firmly, her eyes never leaving his. "Ada. I'm from Nigeria."Michael tilted his head, intrigued. "Ah, one of my classmates is Nigerian, too. He talks about Nigeria a lot. Said it's a really intense place - not just good and evil, but everything in between."Ada quirked an eyebrow. "Hmm, that's one way to put it.Nigerians are determined, resourceful people, always standing up for what they believe in," Ada affirmed, a spark in her eyes.Michael studied her intently, his gaze following the curve of her lips. "Well, Ada, it's nice to have another student from Nigeria around here. I'm studying Political Science, focusing on Africa. I'd love to hear your thoughts sometime."Ada nodded, a faint blush creeping up her neck."Of course, Michael. I'd be glad to share my perspective on things." She looked around the room, her eyes resting on the large window that let in streams of golden sunlight. "I promise, the real Africa is nothing like you'd expect."Michael smirked, "I'll take your word for it. I came here to learn, right?"Ada chuckled, feeling a surge of appreciation for this man's openness and curiosity. "That's the spirit.I'm glad to meet someone who's eager to learn," Ada replied, her voice resonating with warmth. She took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, crisp air that wafted in from the open window. Outside, the sun-dappled leaves of the towering oak tree swayed gently in the breeze.Ada gestured toward the empty space next to the stack of her boxes. "Make yourself at home," she offered. "I've only just unpacked my essentials."Michael hesitated for a moment before setting his box down beside her.She turned to face him, a warm smile playing on her lips." Thank you," she said. "It's such a small space, but it's home for now."He nodded, casting a curious glance around her room, taking in the tasteful blending of African and Western aesthetics. The camaraderie between the students in the room seemed friendly, yet there was a quiet, passionate intensity that lingered in the air."Do you mind if I ask why you brought all the African decorations?" Michael queried."I wanted to have a piece of my home – Nigeria – with me," Ada admitted.Her curly locks cascaded over her shoulders as she slipped off her pumps and settled on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. Ada's mother had gifted her with a set of intricate Yoruba beads, which were draped around her neck, the beads shimmering in the sunlight.Michael took a seat atop the desk chair, nodding in understanding. "That makes sense.I've heard that homesickness is a very real thing for people who move far away," Michael replied, his voice empathic.Ada propagated a low laugh, revealing a quick wit. "Homesickness is something I carry with me, but it's a weight I'm willing to bear. I've followed my dreams and will face any challenges that come my way," she declared with unwavering determination.Michael peered at Ada, fascinated by her indomitable spirit.The sun dipped lower in the sky, and the golden rays cascaded across her dark skin, illuminating the delicate patterns adorning her strong and regal features. He couldn't help but admire her unwavering resolve, knowing that he, himself, would falter in her circumstances."You must be a force to be reckoned with in Nigeria," he mused.Ada chuckled, "I try to make a difference in my own little ways.But I guess you could say I've been fortunate enough to inherit some of that 'intense' spirit you mentioned."Michael looked into her eyes, a mixture of admiration and curiosity. "So, tell me more about the Nigeria you grew up in. How do people cope back there?"As Ada spoke, her words came out in a lyrical, rhythmic tone. Her gentle accent reminded Michael of the sweet yet sharp voice of Erykah Badu, powerful and sultry. Every word she said was carefully measured, as if she were the keeper of an ancient magic.She spoke about the heart of Nigeria that beats in the bustling markets and the vibrant festivals that take place in her hometown, where villagers would wear their best traditional garb, each fabric representing a proud lineage steeped in rich culture."Nigerians have a unique way of dealing with life's struggles," Ada continued. "We have learned to put up fierce fights when threatened or disrespected, but we are incredibly affectionate and loving at the same time.Our words can serve as both our sharpest weapon and our sweetest comfort."Michael shifted, leaning forward in his chair with his elbows resting on his knees. He listened closely as Ada unraveled the stories of her upbringing in Nigeria. The way her voice danced when she reminisced about her childhood and the lessons she'd learned enchanted him."Our people harness the power of both the good and evil that co-exists around us, binding them together with a thread that runs through every Nigerian.With the natural flow of our dialect and the mastery of our tone, we use our words to charm, persuade, and defend ourselves."You know, I've never met anyone who paints such a vivid picture of home," Michael marveled, enchanted by Ada's storytelling as the late afternoon sun streamed into the dorm room, illuminating her dark skin and leaving her curls aglow.Ada smiled enigmatically. "I take pride in sharing the uniqueness of my heritage, where my spirit was born and cultivated.While Nigeria, like any other place, experiences its fair share of strife and hardship, it is the resilience and the remarkable ability to embrace life's challenges with laughter and determination that profoundly influences every corners of our existence.And so, with a promise to preserve the essence of my roots and hold fast to the lessons I've learned, I stepped forward, ready to navigate the winding path of university life. I found myself drawn to the quiet, earnest American student named Michael, who seemed truly interested in learning about my homeland.He had a presence that commanded attention, and yet there was an air of vulnerability about him. I couldn't help but feel protective of this gentle soul."Come with me," I told him, eager to share more about my heritage. We left my dorm room, weaving through the bustling corridors and into the cobblestone courtyard.Michael's gaze swept over the surroundings, the magnificent stone buildings, and the intricate carvings in their façades.He felt as though he'd entered into another world, a world far removed from the endless fields and serene Midwest landscapes he'd grown up amidst."This is beautiful," he murmured, the words barely escaping his lips. Ada just smiled. "Yes, it is," she agreed. "The most beautiful thing about Africa is its people - their strength, their resilience, and their rich cultural tapestry."They walked through the university grounds, the sun dipping lower in the sky, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.Ada reveled in this moment of tranquility, a calm harbinger of the myriad experiences that lay ahead; of the stories yet to unfold, the laughter waiting to burst forth. It was as if she could feel her roots, buried deep under Nigerian soil, and its strength surging through her, nourishing her with a steadfast spirit to embrace the changes that lay on her path.Arm in arm, Ada continued to lead Michael through the campus, feeling a growing bond and a connection between them.The vibrant hues of twilight danced across the sky, shimmering upon her ebony skin and casting pathways of oneiric light onto the ancient cobblestones beneath their feet."Have you ever visited an African market?" Ada asked, a wistful smile playing upon her lips. Michael nodded, his gaze taking on a distant, thoughtful look.
"I've been to Dixie Africa, a market back home that imports goods from various parts of Africa.