love heart attack

Going to America

As the plane took off, I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me. Leaving behind the only home I had ever known, bound for the unfamiliar shores of America, where Harvard University awaited with a promise of a new chapter, one that I was both eager and nervous to begin.

Initially, I had opposed the idea of studying overseas. Why leave when I could find a reputable university in South Africa that's just as good? Well, maybe not as good; I mean, where else in the world can you find Harvard or Oxford except for where they have always been? But hear me out: going to university is more of fulfilling a bucket list for me than it is for anything else. For all the things people say education brings, I already have them, and for all the doors education is said to open, I already have the spare keys. So, my reasoning was, what does it matter which one I choose?

However, after careful consideration, lengthy discussions, and debates with my best friend MK, and a heart-to-heart with Kimberly, I decided to take the leap. Kimberly, my girlfriend of four years, was the biggest stumbling block. I didn't think our relationship would survive four years of separation. But she reassured me that she would be with me throughout, and we would stay in touch through social media. I loved Kimmy with every fiber of my being, and among all the other girls I had, she was the one with whom my fortunes were tied, in prayers, thoughts, and the future that I imagined. Securing her full support came with all the confidence I needed to fly.

As the plane soared over the Atlantic, I pondered the endless possibilities this journey could bring. The most exciting part was the clean slate I would have in the USA. I could make a name for myself without relying on my father's influence or aid; it was the greatest reset I would ever have, and one I had always wanted.

One thought that preoccupied my mind for most of the flight was that of being a basketball player. I don't have the talent for the sport, but physically, I'm built for it. With a bit of luck, training, and dedication, who knows? Maybe I could get drafted into the NBA and give LeBron James a run for his money and fame. God knows someone needs to humble that goat, or at least perish in the attempt. But I eventually dismissed the idea, knowing I wasn't into contact sports or anything physical like that.

Upon arrival at Harvard, nothing surprised me much. Everything was as I had expected from my online research. The first few weeks were spent trying to make friends, pairing up with like-minded individuals. But it was a challenging process, as most people were trying to live up to their family statuses, some being someone they thought others would like, and others being what they had read in articles.

As one of the few students from Africa, I faced stereotypes and condescending questions. People would ask if I knew someone from Nigeria or if I saw lions regularly in Africa. It was amusing, but also frustrating.

Eventually, I linked up with Malcolm, a slick and adventurous guy who was all about money. We got along instantly, and he introduced me to the streets of America. One thing that stood out for me was how everything seemed to work efficiently, from the healthcare system and facilities to the judiciary. The police were just as good and organized as their criminals, and the criminals were as great as their police.

One night, Malcolm took me to a club on the outskirts of town. The music was loud, and the crowd was rowdy. We made our way to the bar, where we ordered a couple of drinks. As we sipped our drinks, I noticed a group of guys from across the room. They were dressed in designer clothes, flashing expensive jewelry, and surrounded by beautiful girls.

Malcolm noticed them too and nodded in their direction. "Those are the guys we need to meet," he said, his voice barely audible over the music. We made our way over to them, and they welcomed us with open arms. They introduced themselves as Victor, Marco, and Carlos, old associates of Malcolm.

They were charming, confident, and seemed to have it all. The girls were flocking around them, and they were throwing money around like it was going out of fashion. As the night wore on, they invited us to join them for a night out on the town. Malcolm agreed without hesitation, and I reluctantly followed suit.

I had no idea where we were headed or what we were getting ourselves into, but I had a feeling that our lives were about to change.