From Africa To America: A Dream Torn Apart: A Story
"Woe to those who enact unjust decrees and who write oppressive laws to deprive the poor of justice and to rob the afflicted of my people of their rights…" — Isaiah 10:1-2
Prologue
The sky over Las Vegas burned orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. Neon lights flickered to life, illuminating the dark corners of a city that never slept. To tourists, it was a playground—casinos, bright lights, and promises of fortune. To others, it was a battlefield.
Naomi pulled her thin jacket tighter around her shoulders as she sat on the cold pavement outside a shelter. She had once believed in the American Dream. A land of opportunity. A fresh start. A place where faith and hard work would open doors.
Instead, she had found doors slammed in her face.
She had fled Africa for safety, prosperity, and belonging. She had walked away from a past filled with pain, with faith in God’s promise that He would make a way. But here she was—homeless in America.
"How?" she whispered to the wind. "How did I get here?"
The question echoed in her soul like a haunting refrain.
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Chapter One: The Exodus
"I will bring your children from the east and gather you from the west. I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’ and to the south, ‘Do not hold them back!’ Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth." — Isaiah 43:5-6
Naomi had boarded the plane with nothing but a single suitcase, a heart full of dreams, and a Bible worn from years of desperate prayers. The stories of those who had left before her filled her mind—men and women who had made it, who had built lives, who had found favor in a land flowing with milk and honey.
She clung to the words of the prophets, believing that God had led her here. America was supposed to be the Promised Land, the place where her suffering would end, where she could provide for her son and live without fear.
But the moment she stepped off the plane, reality greeted her like a slap.
The friends who had promised to help her vanished. Job opportunities were mirages, evaporating as soon as she reached for them. She quickly learned that an African accent could turn a job interview cold in an instant. Landlords demanded three months' rent upfront. Without a credit history, she was invisible.
"Is this the land You promised me, Lord?" she prayed one night, watching her son sleep on a shelter cot.
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Chapter Two: The System is Rigged
"You sell the innocent for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals. You trample on the heads of the poor as on the dust of the ground and deny justice to the oppressed." — Amos 2:6-7
Naomi's first mistake was believing that hard work would be enough.
She labored at jobs that paid pennies, wages so low they barely covered food. She watched as landlords turned her away, choosing tenants with "better credit." She stood in government offices, shuffled between clerks who treated her like an inconvenience.
The homeless shelter had rules—rules that made no sense. She had to check in at a certain hour, but jobs demanded she stay late. If she missed curfew, she lost her place. The cycle was relentless.
And then came the predators.
Men who saw her vulnerability as an opportunity. Some offered “help” with strings attached. Others used their power to make her feel small.
She learned to keep her head down. To move quickly. To pray harder.
"Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed." — Psalm 82:3
But where was justice? Where was mercy?
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Chapter Three: When the Righteous Cry Out
"The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; He delivers them from all their troubles." — Psalm 34:17
One night, Naomi sat outside the shelter, staring at the bright lights of the Strip. A city drowning in wealth, while she had nothing.
A man passed by, laughing into his phone. He casually dropped a hundred-dollar bill at a casino door.
Naomi’s stomach twisted. That money could feed her son for weeks. But to him, it was nothing.
"How can You allow this, God?" she cried silently.
The question burned in her chest, threatening to consume her.
And then, a voice—not audible, but clear in her soul.
"I see you."
Naomi shuddered.
"I have not abandoned you."
Her eyes filled with tears.
It wasn't the answer she wanted. But it was enough to keep going.
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Chapter Four: The War for Her Soul
"They dress the wound of my people as though it were not serious. ‘Peace, peace,’ they say, when there is no peace." — Jeremiah 6:14
The hardest battle wasn’t with the system. It wasn’t with poverty.
It was with despair.
The whispers in her mind told her to give up. To stop trying. To become numb.
The temptation to believe that God had abandoned her grew stronger with each passing day.
But then she remembered Job. She remembered Moses, wandering the desert for forty years. She remembered Joseph, thrown into a pit, sold into slavery, unjustly imprisoned—until the day his breakthrough came.
"The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still." — Exodus 14:14
She gritted her teeth.
No. She would not let this city break her.
She would not become another statistic.
She would rise.
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Chapter Five: The Turning Point
"I will restore the fortunes of my people Israel, and they shall rebuild the ruined cities and inhabit them." — Amos 9:14
The road to redemption was slow.
Naomi fought to get out. She found a job—not much, but something. She saved every penny. She found allies—people God placed in her path, those who saw her not as a burden but as a sister in need.
Little by little, the tide began to turn.
The first night in her own place, she sank to the floor and wept.
Not just for herself, but for everyone still trapped in the cycle.
For every immigrant who had been lied to.
For every mother still sleeping on a shelter cot.
For every soul crying out, "How can I come from Africa and be homeless in America?"
She vowed that one day, she would tell their stories.
Because silence was no longer an option.
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Epilogue: The God Who Sees
"But you, God, see the trouble of the afflicted; you consider their grief and take it in hand. The victims commit themselves to you; you are the helper of the fatherless." — Psalm 10:14
Naomi was no longer homeless.
But she would never forget.
And she would never stop fi
ghting.
For justice. For dignity.
For every forgotten soul in the land of broken promises.
Because the battle wasn’t over.
And God was still watching.