Amadou sat by the window of his small apartment, watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the New York skyline in hues of orange and purple. The city was a cacophony of life, but in his mind, he was somewhere far away, back in Banjul, where his journey began.
The memory of Banjul came alive in his mind—dusty streets filled with vibrant chatter and the scent of street food mingling with the sea breeze. Amadou recalled the laughter of his siblings, the struggle of his parents to make ends meet, and the dreams that seemed so distant back then. "I always knew I had to leave, but I never imagined how far the journey would take me," he murmured to himself.
In a cramped room filled with packed bags, Amadou stood resolute at 26, ready to leave for the United States. His heart was a mix of excitement and fear. "This is for the future," he assured himself, clutching the acceptance letter from an engineering college. The promise of education was a beacon of hope, yet the weight of his family's expectations was heavy on his shoulders.
The bustling college campus was a world away from Banjul. Amadou threw himself into his studies, determined to succeed despite the mounting financial pressures. But as semesters passed, the burden became too heavy to bear. "I'm sorry, but we just can't afford it anymore," his father's voice echoed over the phone, a tone laced with regret and helplessness.
Standing in a recruitment office, Amadou signed the papers that would change his life again—a 10-year contract as an army reservist. It was a decision born out of necessity, a means to survive in a country that seemed both promising and unforgiving. "I'll make it work," he promised himself, embracing the dual life of military service and errand jobs.
Now, at 40, Amadou found himself reflecting on the path he had walked. The city outside was alive with possibilities, but his heart yearned for a purpose beyond survival. "Maybe it's time to find what truly makes me whole," he whispered to the night, as the distant hum of New York embraced him like an old friend, both foreign and familiar.
