It was a busy afternoon at the airport. People rushed around with luggage some laughing, some arguing, some tired from long journeys. Flight 227 to West Africa was ready to board. A few passengers waited in the first-class lounge, sipping drinks and scrolling on their phones. Among them sat a quiet man dressed in a plain black kaftan. His shoes were clean but not flashy. His bag was small, his face calm, unreadable. He said nothing. He watched everything. He held a first-class ticket.
A few people looked at him once, then twice. A Black man alone in the first-class lounge, dressed simply. He didn’t seem like a businessman. Didn’t look rich. Didn’t even have a laptop bag or a wristwatch. But he sat there peacefully, waiting for his flight like everyone else.
When the call came—“First-class passengers, please proceed to gate 4”—he stood up and joined the line. The flight attendant at the gate was a…..Read Full Story Here……………………..
