Fade to Black. A Barbershop Story

Kwame, a master barber from Kumasi,Ghana, watched Tunde sweep the hair on the floor. The young Nigerian approached every task with such focus. He had been impressed with the 15-year-old when he walked into his barbershop on Karangahape Road in 2004 looking for a haircut. The man sitting in the chair in front of Kwame glanced over at Tunde as well “Dokita!” He bellowed. “I hope you always impress the bosses when you become a doctor.”

As the conversation erupted around him on what you needed to become a doctor and whether institutional and systemic issues made it possible for a black immigrant to achieve this dream, Tunde swept up the last of the hair α

As the 2035 Big Gay Out parade filed past Kwame’s shop, participants called out and floated over on gravity disks to hug him. He was a K-road fixture and had created a sense of community for Afro-kiwis in the barbershop, the restaurant next door and the Kente fabric shop Businesses all owned by Kwame

A dark-skinned boy with soft black bouncy curls and an aquiline nose that betrayed his Fiji-Indian and Italian ancestry ran out of the crowd towards him.

“Baba Ghana!”

Kwame felt a surge of emotion wash over him as the 9-year-old hugged him tight “Femi! I’m not as young as I used to be o!”

“My dad says you’re a new man after your surgery.” Femi replied.

“Yes, he is.”

Kwame looked up at Femi’s Dad, Tunde as he presented his left wrist to the personal robotic assistant hovering mid-air next to Kwame The robot pinged twice and intoned, “Dr Babatunde Adeyi, Consultant Head of surgery Auckland Hospital Access authorized.”

Kwame looked amused as Tunde checked his progress since his hip replacement “Enough of that now,” Kwame waved Tunde off his robot. “Let’s get this young man a haircut”

∞

As Tunde’s travel pod descended to street-level, he glanced at the hologram of his granddaughter. He tapped his ear to cut off analysis of the current 2065 election on his internal audio device. He wasn’t comfortable with the chip in his ear, but it was a requirement to continue practicing medicine after his 70th birthday They didn’t let him cut anyone these days The androids were better at that He didn’t see his granddaughter as often as he would like. Femi and his husband were always off on location around the world.

Whenever they made it back to town, Tunde always made sure to take his granddaughter to Kwame’s barbershop. The shop was a symbol of the enduring power of a community space, where people could come together to share ideas, comfort each other, network, and of course, to cut their hair

Tunde waved to Femi and his granddaughter as Kwame’s voice boomed a welcome in the familiar Ghanaian accent. Kwame passed away years ago. But the A.I. that ran the shop was based on his brainwaves and memories. To Tunde, it felt like coming home