They were designated for Earth where they would soak in their ways and, perhaps, forge a friendship. For themselves and therefore for their warring peoples. Both elves hailed from worlds that warred against each other for centuries. Both elves grew on legends of the war-heroes they now desire to become and better. So either elf saw the other as enemy. But their fathers, fearfully aware of the lessening wealth in people and currency of their kingdoms, decided a dramatic attempt at peace: they sent both their heir-apparents to Earth who was the last planet not well-known in their galaxy. If both could return back in a year, together and peaceably, then it is evident that their gods have desired peace.
But as they neared Earth, their spaceship was shot at and crushing through the Earth’s atmosphere. As they plummeted, one suspected the other as the cause of this misfortune. Eventually, and unsurprisingly, they crashlanded at an American city.
But Nwabunike did not complete the story. He was once a boy perplexed and arrested by American science fiction. He was now a man who was no longer. He now wrote stories of his own experience and dreams: of railways that interconnected Africa, of the realisation of the Eco currency that singularised West African economies and could compete with the Euro, that Nigeria became the basketball capital of Africa, that Nollywood produced village movies of the foreign-educated prince who returns home with plans and connections to transform his village into a metropolitan presence in the country; stories that showcased the now of Africa and prophesied a soon for her as well—interestingly and not without entertainment.
He had shifted from what had inhabited his mind in his boyhood days—that to be considered one had to produce works that had Western signatures. But that was not what the world was to him anymore: it wasn’t Western, it was also African.