Once upon a time, there was a young man named Malik Kufuor, who lived in the proud nation of Ghana, in the heart of West Africa. Six feet three inches tall, brawny, handsome and dark-skinned, Malik Kufuor was well-known for his intelligence, courage, kindness and bravery in his hometown of Kumasi. One day, Father Jefferson Lloyd, leader of the stalwart missionaries of the local Roman Catholic diocese approached Malik, and told him of a great opportunity.
"Malik, my son, although you are Muslim, and I am a Christian, I do believe that we serve the same God, and He has much in store for you, you are a fine scholar and I believe your destiny lies beyond this place," Father Lloyd, a tall, chubby white man in his late fifties, told Malik one Friday morning. Malik had come to his classes at Saint Matthew Academy, and was quite surprised to find himself summoned to the priest's office.
"I'm honored you think so, Father," Malik said with a curt nod, wondering what the old man was talking about. The City of Kumasi, one of Ghana's biggest cities, was a place in transition. Caught between modern life and ancient West African tradition. The local Muslims were the most traditionalist of all, fiercely hanging onto their Islamic faith and its tenets while lamenting the fact that many West Africans were embracing the Eurocentric ways of Christianity. Malik, the son of a Muslim leader, attended Saint Matthew Academy mainly because there were few decent alternatives...
"In fact, the International Christian Scholarship Association is proud to extend to you a scholarship offer to study abroad, at any Christian school in America or Canada," Father Lloyd said proudly as he showed Malik a stack of papers. The tall young Ghanaian looked at the old man, then took the papers from him. Father Lloyd smiled, and watched as Malik folded the papers, and nodded.
"Thank you, Father Lloyd, for me, studying abroad has always been a dream," Malik said, in a voice choked with emotion. The young man thanked the priest for his offer, took the papers and walked out. The rest of the day went by like a breeze. Once Malik went home, his father Mohammed Kufuor, was overjoyed upon hearing that his only son had been granted the chance of a lifetime.
"The world is yours, my son," Mohammed said as he hugged his son Malik fiercely. Father and son sat at the dinner table and ate, and then had a long chat, discussing the future. Mohammed Kufuor, Imam of the Al-Jannah Mosque of metropolitan Kumasi, always dreamed of better things for his son.
From the get go, Malik had always been gifted, both physically and intellectually. Only eighteen years old, Malik had won every award that Saint Matthew Academy had to bestow. Captain of the gold-winning soccer team, first in his class academically, most outstanding volunteer, and so on. Yes indeed, Malik was destined for greater things.
Thus it came to be that Malik Kufuor graduated from the City of Kumasi's Saint Matthew Academy in May 2016, and then sent his transcripts to the Ontario Universities Application Center. Once enrolled there, Malik looked at the various colleges and universities in the Ontario region of Canada, and out of all of them, he selected Carleton University. The sturdy school with the international reputation appealed to Malik Kufuor immensely.
At first, Malik Kufuor thought about going to the United States of America, and he liked Liberty University in Virginia for its strong Christian roots and rigorous academic programs. America, the land of liberty and opportunity, appealed to Malik immensely, but the shooting of young black men by racist cops made him weary, so he opted for Canada. Malik received an acceptance letter from Carleton University three months after he applied through O.U.A.C. and then he applied for a student visa, which he got.
"Do us all proud, my son, and may the Creator bless you," Mohammed Kufuor said to Malik, with tears in his eyes, as he hugged his son in the crowded Kotoka International Airport in the City of Accra, Capital of Canada. The busy airport was full of people of all hues going about their business, but the Kufuor men might as well be alone. Malik looked at his father and smiled at the tall, dark-skinned, silver-haired man who raised him, alone, and all the love he felt for his Dad threatened to burst through his chest.
"Baba, I will make you proud," Malik said, and he hugged his father Mohammed Kufuor fiercely. Clad in a dark gray suit over a blue silk shirt, black tie and black silk pants, Malik dragged his black leather luggage and headed for the boarding area. The young man thus embarked on his journey toward a strange, distant land called Canada. In the City of Ottawa, Ontario, Malik Kufuor's life-changing educational journey would finally begin.
"Welcome to Canada, Mr. Kufuor, I am Beatrice Solomon, I represent the International Christian Scholarship Association," said a tall, chubby but attractive young white woman with long reddish hair and sparkly green eyes. Malik spotted the tall redhead in the dark gray pantsuit and white blouse who held the sign with his name on it as he walked through the waiting area, after going through customs at the Ottawa International Airport. In spite of being super tired after a long flight, Malik had to smile. This gal seemed so formal...
"Good to meet you, Beatrice, please call me Malik, Mr. Kufuor is my father," Malik said with a smile as he shook Beatrice's hand. The young white woman smiled and nodded, and they headed for the exit. A half hour later, Beatrice and Malik grabbed lunch at a MacDonald's restaurant located near Rideau Street in downtown Ottawa. It was Malik's first time in a fast-food restaurant, and the well-dressed young West African Muslim looked distinctly out of place in his well-tailored suit...
"So, how was your trip?" Beatrice asked Malik, and the young man smiled and told her about the busy airports of West Africa and Europe, and how refreshing he was finding the Canadian Capital. As Beatrice spoke to Malik, she noticed that a lot of people inside the MacDonald's, both minorities and whites, were looking at the two of them. Beatrice was dressed like a professional, and Malik looked like an athlete-turned-businessman with his muscular build and sharp suit.
"I hope things work out for me in the City of Ottawa," Malik said wistfully, and Beatrice noticed a faraway look creeping into his dark, handsome face. The moment passed and Malik fixed his gaze on Beatrice, who smiled. This young man's candor was quite moving, if Beatrice was honest with herself. Malik was handsome, confident and well-dressed, not to mention exotically handsome like only African men could be. Too bad he was several years her junior...
"Well, Malik, I'm here to help, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to call me," Beatrice said, and she scribbled her number on a piece of paper which Malik, who did not own a cell phone, pocketed. The two of them finished their meal, and then Beatrice drove Malik to the Carleton University campus, where he would reside at the Dundas dormitory.
"Thank you for your help, Beatrice, I hope to see you again," Malik said, and he bowed his head gently while Beatrice, stunned, smiled and nodded. Malik insisted on carrying his own luggage, and then went up to his dorm. Beatrice promised to show up the next day to help him with registration and Malik thanked her profusely. The young woman smiled to herself as she walked back to the parking lot. What a man, Beatrice thought.