Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 1 (A Black Panther FanFic)

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First (Chapter 1)

Chapter 1

"Handheld seduction hijacking my point of view....

Everybody's watching

Checking for minutiae

And I wish I cared less

But, I wanna be on your mind"

Joi - "Stare At Me"

N'Jobu Udaku could be stubborn when he wanted to be. For several weeks he refused to attend any Black Student Union meetings on the UC Berkley campus while he was completing his masters in Political Science. His roommate Bakari Dunduza (ne, Julius Greene-he changed his name to Bakari to embrace some nebulous unknown African heritage), kept pestering him about being involved in Black campus politics.

"Bakari," N'Jobu would sigh, rolling his eyes at him, "I am Wakandan, I know who I am and where my people come from. Why do I need to be part of an organization that is so fixated on heritage?"

Bakari often gave N'Jobu an exasperated glare, his round glasses slipping on his nose as he stared at the arrogant exchange student with the regal bearing and penetrating dark brown eyes. This time was no exception.

"We're all African, and we're trying to survive America," Bakari said.

"You are American, and you are trying to survive your first semester exams," N'Jobu answered sipping on a cup of English Breakfast tea and perusing the New York Stock Exchange and Wall Street Journal simultaneously. His breakfast of lukewarm scrambled eggs and slightly burnt toast sat untouched while they sat inside the University cafeteria after the seven-a.m. morning rush.

Bakari sat across from him, a stack of Black Student Union flyers in his hand and a soggy bowl of cereal pushed to the side on the table.

"What's wrong with getting in touch with our heritage while we also organize around issues that impact us?"

"What issues impact you, hmm? You are on an elite campus in the UC system. Your parents are both lawyers at private firms. You vacation on Martha's Vineyard every summer. What exactly is your struggle, brother?" N'Jobu's voice was teasing, his bright clear eyes shining with mischief.

"Man, fuck you," Bakari said, picking up a plastic spoon and swirling limp flakes around his cereal bowl.

"You mad?" N'Jobu asked.

"Naw, forget it bruh," Bakari answered, pushing his bowl away again, still clutching his flyers tight.

"You're mad. Seriously?"

"Look bruh, just go to one meeting. It's a good way to meet other Black people on campus, network...and, on my mother man, the finest honeys be there. There's always good snacks too."

"Do you ever not think of food?"

Bakari reached over and snatched one of the burnt pieces of buttered toast on N'Jobu's plate.

"Food is my drug, man, for reals," Bakari said stuffing the blackened wheat toast in his mouth, munching loudly.

N'Jobu picked up one of the green Black Student Union Flyers from Bakari's stack and looked it over. The meeting was only for one hour. Food was being provided by a local Ethiopian restaurant. The agenda was simple: talks of Spring Elections for officers, plans to march at an upcoming Mumia Abu Jamal rally, and then an open discussion of continental Africans and the Diaspora.