Can You Really Survive In America?

Chapter 1

The Weight of Anticipation: Bayo's Confrontation with Fate

In 1947, Professor Robert summoned Opeyemi Adebayo to his office. As Bayo walked down the hallway, he felt the weight of anticipation pressing down on him, and his steps intentionally quieted to avoid drawing attention. Bayo knew Professor Robert's reputation for taking academic matters seriously, and the summoning filled him with unease. His heart raced, and his palms grew sweaty as he wondered what had prompted the meeting.

Professor Robert James, the Dean of the Science School at Harvard, hailed from Belmont, Massachusetts. His upbringing was marked by tragedy, losing his father to trench fever after World War I and his mother to an industrial accident during World War II. The aftermath of his mother's death left him alone, scraping to survive until the United States provided aid, changing his perspective on justice and accountability forever. This backstory, Bayo had heard, explained the professor's unwavering commitment to diligence and precision.

Bayo, however, carried his burdens. Despite only a month passing since his arrival, rumors of his disruptive behavior had already circulated in his neighborhood. While the school's security had issued warnings, the incident weighed heavily on Bayo's conscience, compounded by his recent involvement in helping a classmate with a math problem to cope with his financial struggles. As he made his way to Professor Robert's office, he couldn't shake the nagging uncertainty about the purpose of the summons, each step fraught with apprehension and unanswered questions.

Bayo, a twenty-six-year-old from Ijebu-Remo, grappled with the weight of his past. Raised amidst a unique Yoruba dialect, Bayo was the eldest child of his deceased mother. Following his mother's death, his father sent him away to a white missionary, where he endured harsh teachings and physical punishment. Despite these challenges, Bayo remained steadfast and straightforward. His upbringing left him embittered and distrustful, harboring resentment toward everyone.

As Bayo stood outside Professor Robert's office, he reflected on his hardships back in his hometown. His heart raced, sweat dripped down his face, but he mustered the courage to knock.

"Come in," the voice from inside bellowed, its authority sending a jolt through Bayo. His legs stiffened, feeling like lead, as he hesitantly approached the door.

Bayo forced himself to move and opened the door, stepping into the office to be met by a figure exuding wisdom and authority. The man stood tall, adorned in a tuxedo, shirt, and bow tie that bespoke elegance and sophistication.

"He's Professor Robert," he managed to say, his clenched fist revealing his inner turmoil. Unconsciously, his body trembled as though he had committed a grave offense, a feeling he couldn't shake. Professor Robert cast a fleeting glance at Bayo, his eyes lingering on the unique brown Dada hair adorned with white beads. His gaze then swept over Bayo's worn-out Agbada and broken sandals, furrowing his brow in disapproval.

'So this is the man involved in this…' Professor Robert exhaled, the mention of the situation seeming to bring a curse upon his life. With a raised eyebrow, he asked in a blend of British American accent, "What's your name and origin?" Despite staring at Bayo's file, the tension in the room intensified, causing Bayo's legs to tremble uncontrollably, further creasing Professor Robert's brow.

Bayo nervously began, "My name is Adebayo," but before he could continue, Professor Robert waved his hand dismissively, indicating his aversion to Bayo's English.

"Do you…" Professor Robert's eyes darted from Bayo to the script on his table, his fist clenched as he continued, "... know why I called you here?" Reflecting on the gravity of the situation, he pondered whether such talent, though evident, was worth jeopardizing the credibility of education and hard work. He concluded that judging from Bayo's past experiences, it was a resounding "Big no!" Moreover, they had already completed the deed and were prepared to set sail with their actions.

Bayo couldn't decipher what was running through Professor Robert's mind, but his nerves only intensified. Despite considering various possibilities, he shook his head, trying to dispel his apprehensions. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself amidst the mounting tension. As he pondered his tumultuous life experiences, his gaze fell upon the red hat on the professor's table, silently casting judgment upon him. Its presence seemed ominous, foreboding a bleak outcome for Bayo's day.

Professor Robert furrowed his brows in response to Bayo's initial response. "You don't know?" he questioned a cold smile on his lips, incredulous at Bayo's apparent denial. Suppressing his rising anger, the professor clasped his fingers together, his tone measured. "The school has discovered your involvement in ghostwriting," he stated, leaving the implication hanging.

Observing Bayo's trembling lips and speechlessness, Professor Robert's scrutiny intensified. He asked, frustrated by what he saw as Bayo's carelessness, "Are you aware of the school rules?"

Bayo struggled to find his voice amidst the tightening in his chest, feeling he was choking on his words. As Professor Robert picked up the red hat, the background noise of the fan and the breeze masked his actions, adding to the moment's gravity. Placing the hat gently on his head, Professor Robert continued solemnly. He announced, shaking his head regretfully, "After the board's investigation, I, Professor Robert of the School of Science, must declare you expelled and deported."

Bayo's attempts to plead only met a dismissive wave from Professor Robert. "In three days, pack your belongings," he instructed, his tone tinged with uncertainty, "and make your way to the shore to continue your journey out of America."

...

Bayo returned to his dreary apartment in The Port, a stark contrast to the vibrancy of the bustling neighborhood. As he surveyed the dilapidated surroundings, frustration and despair washed over him, a constant companion in his tumultuous journey from Nigeria to America. The disparity between black and white residents of The Port was evident, with the latter holding sway over power and influence.

Entering his dismal room with its ragged carpets and peeling paint, Bayo couldn't escape the reality of his situation. His kitchen, a collection of broken appliances and rat-infested corners, offered little solace. Despite his meager surroundings, Bayo attempted to find comfort in the familiar act of cooking, longing for the taste of home-cooked Asaro, a reminder of happier times with his late mother.

As Bayo prepared his meal, a sudden intrusion shattered the fragile peace of his solitude. A mysterious voice pierced the air with an enigmatic question, "How do you make God laugh?"

Bayo paused mid-action, startled by the unexpected intrusion. "How do you make God laugh?" he echoed, his voice tinged with curiosity and wariness. The mysterious voice continued, its tone cryptic yet compelling. "Tell him your plans," it whispered, leaving Bayo to ponder the profound implications of its message.

As Bayo eagerly anticipated his meal, the dark humor thrown his way didn't quite sit right with him. He couldn't quite grasp the person's intention – were they trying to lighten the mood or make matters more serious? Despite his uncertainty, an unsettling feeling crept over him, leaving him with a sense of unease. Gathering his food and drink swiftly, Bayo walked towards the living room, seeking solace. As he closed the creaky door behind him, a fleeting glimpse caught his eye – an advanced man with a hunched back and a walking stick. He was the very person who had posed the enigmatic question.

Although others may have merely seen an elderly individual, Bayo sensed there was more to him than met the eye. Deep down, he knew exactly who this man was. With a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, he confidently uttered, "Èsù." He believed Èsù's presence signified impending trouble in his life. Confirming his suspicions, Bayo exclaimed, "Èsù Alaketu," acknowledging Èsù as the king of Ketu. Yet, despite his outward display of confidence, he couldn't shake the feeling of seeing a vulture, with the words "Èsù Orungbe ẹjẹ" echoing in his mind, translated as Èsù the bloodthirsty.

…

Glossary

Agbada means a wide-sleeved Yoruba robe.

Dada hair means natural dreadlock or knotted hair.

Asaro: A yam porridge dish that was cooked with palm oil, tomatoes, onions, peppers, and sometimes fish or meat.