BRYAN sat on the seawall watching the smooth,rolling waves of the Atlantic Ocean as the sun set in the west, its magnificence beyond compare, a perfect conclusion to the day.
The water lapping gently against the rocks seemed somehow to speak to him and sometimes he would smile and answer quietly,
“What are you saying to me? Have you brought tidings from Mother Africa?”

Far, far beyond the horizon, ships had sailed centuries ago with human cargo and the young man of African descent mused, “A long way, we have come, now stranger to you, dear Mother, but within your bosom lies our true identity.”

Bryan’s mind was always searching for something to connect, to find something unique. He couldn’t be sure what he was looking for, but often when he sat by the ocean he could hear the pulsating beat of the drums, telling stories of hunting and harvesting. He saw the bonfire in the village square, the small huts and the women dressed in rich tribal wear.
Today though, something was different.

The beat of the drums changed to a slow tempo and from the dim shadows, she stepped out – a most beautiful girl, her body slowly moving in rhythm to the drum beats. It was the first time she had come into the picture of his mind and Bryan watched entranced by the soft passion in her eyes, as she danced, her smooth, ebony skin glistening from the glow of the small bonfire.
“A real African beauty,” he whispered, “I wish I can meet someone like her.”
“Who are you talking to, man?”

Bryan looked up almost startled into the faces of his two best friends, Naren and Jason.
“Not speaking to anyone,” he said, jumping nimbly to his feet.
“Why are you sitting here in this lonely spot?” Jason asked and pointed to farther down the seawall, “Look at the scene that way.”
The afternoon lime was in full swing, with music and drink bars, food stalls, barbeque and games for children.
“Just like a quiet moment sometimes,” Bryan said casually, “So, what’s up with you guys?”
“Just come out for a lime,” Naren said, “Haven’t seen you in a little while.”
“Busy at the workshop, studying, and a few other things,” Bryan said.
“Okay, just forget that for now,” Jason said, playfully punching his friend on the arm, “Let’s go grab some beers.”
The three friends settled down with a few cold “Banks,” talking about their works and life just as they did as boys in high school on ambitions and careers. Jason and Naren had always been fun-loving and mischievous, and Bryan the cool, practical one.
Now young men, he was not a part of everything in their outgoing lifestyles because of his strong religious background, but that did not affect their friendship.
He went to a few Bollywood shows, Soca concerts and car-racing events, interacting and celebrating the different cultures with his many other friends, for not only did ships sail from Africa, but from the Asian continent and Portugal. So the beautiful tropical land became home to many different races.
Bryan, tall and athletic, and quite good looking worked part-time in his father’s mechanic shop whilst pursing a degree in mechanical engineering at the University of Guyana. His mother, a woman of God, instilled good values in his mind from young on race and religion. Maybe it was her teachings that helped him to understand his African heritage and gave him a strong sense of belonging.

Now he knew what the something special was that his mind had been searching for in that continent.
“But would I find a girl like her?” he wondered.
He knew not the answer then, and his dream stayed private within him, as he waited to find her.
In the month of August, more than a year later, his mother fell ill and Bryan found his days tasked even more with work, studies and some church duties she requested him to fulfil for her. His social life seemed on hold and his dream it seemed drifting somewhere far.
Then one morning at breakfast, he wondered aloud, “Do I have to go to Africa to find her?”
“You’re going to Africa?” his five-year-old nephew questioned, fear in his big, brown eyes.
“No, Ethan,” Bryan assured him, “It was just a thought.”
“You can’t go there,” the little boy advised, “The rebel fighters will kill you.”
“Where did you get that from?” Bryan asked with surprise.
“The TV,” the child answered.
“Before you go to Africa,” his sister interrupted with a teasing smile on her face, “Can you take the kids to the zoo today?”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re their uncle.”
“They have other aunts and uncles.”
“I know but they like you because you’re more patient and fun to be with.”
“Lord,” Bryan groaned, as he left for the workshop, “Where is my life?”
He took the children to the zoo during his lunch break, much to their delight.
They were standing by the lion’s cage watching the cubs play with their mother when he heard other children’s excited screaming and laughter and a patient voice trying to calm them down. He turned to look and saw her by the zebra’s cage, surrounded by a group of little children.
She was slim and beautiful with her kinky hair falling to her shoulders. An incredible rush of a new feeling filled his heart as he looked at her and he whispered, “It’s her.”
She turned, walking with the children towards the lion’s cage like a dream come to life.
“Uncle Bryan,” the children were pulling at his arms, “We want to see the anacondas.”
He walked the other way with the two kids, turning back to look at her, and at that same moment she turned and looked at him, with a hesistant little smile.
“Yes!” he exulted, “And it begins with just a little smile.”
He walked around with the kids who were now hungry, and as he was buying snacks for them, he saw her under the benab in the gardens sharing snacks to the children with her. It was the perfect time to talk to her and taking the kids with him, he asked her, “Can I help you?”
She looked at him, hesistated a little and then smiled and handed him a tray, “Sure, thanks.”
“Who are all these children?” he asked, noting how loving and attentive she was with them.
“From my class.”
“A teacher, that’s nice,” and he introduced the two kids with him, “My niece and nephew.”
“She’s beautiful,” Ethan said.
“She sure is,” Bryan agreed a little apologetically.
She smiled warmly and turned as a child called for her attention, “Miss Anjalie.”
A surprised look crossed Bryan’s face, “Anjalie?”
She tried not to laugh at the look on his face, “What’s wrong?”
“You have an indian name?”
“It’s a funny thing really,” she said, “When my mother was pregnant with me she saw Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and liked the heroine’s name.”
Bryan laughed a little, somehow thrilled at the uniqueness of an African beauty with an Indian name.
He held out his hand to introduce himself, wondering now that if they something special he had been searching for, he had now found.