I did not come to America as one unlettered in struggle or unfamiliar with toil. I came with eyes open, heart steady, and feet rooted in the faith of my ancestors — believing, as so many have before me, that this land would offer more than just refuge, but resonance. A place to build. To belong. To rise.And rise I did.
This country gave me my first platform in the global theatre — a chance to shape ideas, to labor with dignity, to love with depth, and to walk among a people as complex as the stars above the stripes. I became a citizen here — not only by naturalization but by contribution. I paid my dues, made my mark, planted seeds in the soil of sacrifice.
But as the years unfolded and the veil of nostalgia was lifted, I began to perceive the quiet erosion — of stability, of truth, of humanity’s most sacred values.
The America I once dreamt of — bold and fair — now grapples with shadows it can no longer ignore: a fractured economy, a politicized compassion, and a societal rhythm increasingly out of tune with the dignity of the human soul.
And so, I — Olujide Stephen Adesina — prepare my heart and household for another journey. Not in flight, but in faith. Not in disdain, but in discernment.
I move toward a continent where leadership still bows to principle, where institutions are not playthings of power but guardians of peace. A continent where the worth of a person is not defined by their accent, their income, or their ancestry, but by the content of their contribution and the constancy of their character.
This decision is neither impulsive nor romanticized. It is measured. Earned. And deeply human.
For my dreams — global in vision and generational in weight — demand a terrain where justice is not just preached, but practiced. Where families need not choose between food and freedom, nor futures and fairness.
Still, I do not denounce America. I thank her.
She trained my hands. She tested my will. She broadened my mind. And to her soil, I leave pieces of myself — in friendships, in legacy, in memory.
But I go now — to sow anew in lands where civility is not seasonal, where institutions do not tremble at truth, and where a man can still walk tall without fearing the erosion of his worth.
This is not the closing of a book, but the turning of a page. And when history looks back upon this departure, let it not say I fled — but that I followed the light of a higher calling.
Until then, America, farewell.
With reverence. With gratitude.
And with the eternal courage to choose hope over comfort.
By: Jide Adesina
Extracted from Tales of destiny
Short prose narrative: A Pilgrim’s Benediction
May 2025
