Path to the Dream Life

A Dream Deferred-1

A Dream Deferred

––––––––

* * * *

One month later Imma was on his way to take up the position of auxiliary teacher in his alma mater, Mount Saint Gabriel’s Secondary School, in Makurdi. Settling in for the long trip, he was bemused at the irony staring him in the face. Becoming a student here ten years ago was like being raised from the dead. And now he was going to be a teacher. Memories of Imma’s miracle – rescue number one – came flooding back.

Lifting up teary eyes to the heavens as the taxi dropped him off at the staff quarters of the school, Imma thanked providence. As a student, Imma studied hard. He shunned parties, movies, and all the teenage years’ troubles, finishing best in the school and winning several awards. He was glad that the awards justified the confidence cousin Mark placed in him. But today he was happy that they had earned him a job – and an escape from the village and the farm.

The ragged, red diary followed Imma to Makurdi, tucked away among his most prized possessions. Regularly he fished it out and re-read that December 5, 1979 entry. Never again.

Imma’s seventeen-month auxiliary teaching stint in Makurdi was packed with regular classes in the school and part-time evening and weekend tutorial jobs. The deprived label, and his vow, were front and centre in his mind. Two months in, he brought a younger sister to complete her education with his sponsorship. Déjà vu. And he regularly sent his widow’s mite home to support the family financially. Payback time. Deprivation relief.

One year after his godfather had planted that possibility in his heart, the going-to-America dream still had a grip on Imma. Jostling and hustling in Makurdi, he earned enough to afford multiple applications to American universities, re-register for GRE and register for GMAT. He threw wide the net for admission, larger scholarships, graduate assistantships and hence a visa. Shunning almost all social life, the city library became Imma’s second home.

The library rewarded Imma’s patronage. Newspapers didn’t fit into his budget but two chance readings of some in the library presented him with two opportunities to further pull himself up. In a United States Information Service advertisement for a Martin Luther King Jr. birthday essay contest, Imma saw a visa application booster. In a bank posting for management trainees, he saw a higher earning and savings opportunity. Vowing to let neither opportunity slip through his fingers, Imma logged more hours at the library.

One month later he made the eight-hour trip from Makurdi to Benin to write the bank job selection aptitude test. Finding himself in the midst of a sea of candidates for the advertised twenty positions, he broke into cold sweat. But that turned into a big smile as the questions began to look familiar. The countless hours on those GRE and GMAT practice questions were going to pay off even bigger!

What followed was a roller-coaster of events that nearly derailed this dream. The bank’s workers’ union protested against the recruitment of external candidates, and a lobby group demanded the exclusion of non-indigene employees. Nevertheless, twelve months after submitting his application, Imma thanked the Human Resources lady and collected his bank access card.

“Congratulations. You are a very smart and lucky young man.”

“Thanks so much.”

“From more than 2,000 applicants we employed only ten instead of the twenty candidates we had planned to hire – and just two of those ten were non-indigenes of the state.”

Thanking her again, Imma made his exit. A few metres away from the building he found a place to sit down and reflect. He was a non-indigene. What odds had he just surmounted? He fished the bank access card out of his bag and took a closer look at his photo with the words, “Staff, New Nigeria Bank, Benin.” Leaning over a fence he looked up to the sky, teary-eyed.

###