CHAPTER 4

Depression;

The university officially opened, and everyone came back. The campus was full. Us freshmen had an orientation day. My next-door neighbor was a Filipina called Marchie. She was also a freshman, so we went to the event together. The moment we arrived she went on to greet everybody. She was active, lively, the life of the room. Me, on the other hand, just went to an empty chair and sat. Socializing isn't in my blood, not even in my bones. 

I watched Marchie as she marched from one group to another, talking and making people laugh as if she knew them her entire life. And it made me wonder; am I normal, or is that normal? Why can't I be like her? Am I really going to make friends? I was just existing in my bubble. It was peaceful but I could feel invisible eyes staring at me in disappointment. Should I change? Do I have to?

Orientation began and ended, and I felt worse than before. I learned that most people think Africa is a country. And for those who know that it's a continent think the only countries are Ghana, Nigeria and Uganda. You tell someone you're from Tanzania and you see them nodding with a question mark plastered on their faces. The organizer of the event, the head of the international students' office, thought it'd be better to play songs from Africa to ease the air, and he ended up playing traditional songs our ancestors used to summon their gods. I didn't know how to feel. There were only 3 African students at the event, me included. And we gave each other glances which said a lot. 

Each day I asked myself one thing, "When is it going to get better? When will I finally feel like I'm in the USA and live that fabulous life? I went weeks without smiling, or even laughing genuinely. I was becoming less and less happy with each passing day. 

Back at school, my grades used to make me so happy. So, I thought I'd do that again. Maybe if I soar in my classes, it'd be a good start. First day of class came and only 2 black people were in that class, me included, and a Ghanaian girl. The rest were white, grown, and enthusiastic human beings. At first it didn't scare me. But I was so dumb to think that I was studying about Aviation fields and services, only to find out that I enrolled in the course for pilots, engineers and Air traffic controllers. I wanted to be a flight attendant, so, obviously the course was long, tough and expensive for nothing because it's not what I actually wanted. I had made it clear to my family and my half-brother that I want to be an international cabin crew, and he assured me that that was the major. Well, no it wasn't. Well then, I was stuck learning something I didn't understand and eventually hated.

Professors came to class, and everyone was excited to learn except me. A question would be asked and almost every hand would be up, except mine. I watched calculations written and wiped off the board and I had no idea what we were actually talking about. Back in Tanzania, I was the best student in the English language, speaking, writing and listening. Now I'm sitting in an English-speaking country and in a sentence of 10 words, I'd only catch one word. I was frustrated. One day I was late for my college writing class because the campus was huge, and the map was confusing. 

Days kept getting tougher and my once strong and stable mental health began crumbling. I cried more than I smiled. Nothing made me happy, not even talking to my family. Covid-19 had hit the world and people were losing their jobs. My mom was a housewife, so we depended on our dad for everything. My dad was expecting a business deal that would change our lives for the best. Matter of fact, it was that deal that gave him the confidence to send me to the States. Suddenly, Covid hit, and the deal didn't happen. Our family's economy crashed like an engineless plane. All the phone calls after that were trouble after trouble after trouble.

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