CHAPTER FIVE219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw5WwPpiryT
The bell had rung twice already, but Musa hadn’t moved from the window. His shirt clung damply to his back, sweat from a sleepless night and the kind of fear that doesn't shake off by morning. 219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNcNfqJpNkb
The compound outside was waking up slowly—boys yelling half-hearted insults across the quad, buckets slamming against concrete at the water taps, the usual mtu ni mechi leo! —indicating a laid-back, carefree bravado bouncing between Form Fours.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFdiDKS0m4J
But he wasn’t hearing any of it.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk34846AwMR
His eyes were fixed on the far wall.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeFUbKXUnKg
The one they called dunda.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMzpIvruLW3
Not its real name, of course. But among a few of them—the ones who’d listened more than they talked—it meant something. A place where things crossed. Notes. Looks. Sometimes, people.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlpYY4nib8M
And last night, they’d crossed it.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf2aqIbV7p0
He still felt the burn in his arms from pulling himself up and over. Still heard the sharp breath of Otieno behind him, limping on the way back from that forbidden path.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ7W3F8masq
Musa turned from the window, eyes falling on the side pocket of his school bag.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡm67Kin0GaC
Inside, folded carefully between the cover of a torn CRE exercise book, was the first letter.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgquu7ABK88
"To the girl with the sunflower hair ribbon..."219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhsdSsunR2c
He never got to send it. Someone had beaten him to the wall.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiNiAqL8vER
But now it was too late.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7fZ6srIvtQ
Because last night, something changed. For months now, Musa had crossed it.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡERYLPEf4Bm
Quietly. Carefully.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdK4CyNTbY3
Never to meet anyone specific. Not at first. It had started with passing notes, coded jokes, half-written lyrics, little trades. Some of the girls would meet them at the vines in the wall during preps or when the bell rang late. Never faces. Just fingers passing folded paper. Voices whispered through leaves.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcVajuS224D
And sometimes… more. Otieno had someone. Musa had... no one.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz2QfMKmAHb
Except the smile.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVHiK9lgqgn
That one smile. From the Madaraka Day parade a year back. She had stood there, yellow ribbon in her hair, laughing quietly at something her friend whispered. That moment had carved itself into him like a signature on wet cement.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuymPQVjQdb
He had crossed the wall five times since that day. Whispered with at least three different girls. Swapped lines of poetry he barely understood. But never her.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQs7wWIUIiK
Never the girl with the sunflower ribbon.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW6UNOZGm4f
And as his feet hit the ground, he whispered to himself—barely louder than the wind:219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNnFJM4jBgF
“I’ll find you. One day.”219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf0TsjgQHBE
He didn’t know her name. Never heard her speak. But he remembered her.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJvRapSGv6S
It had been during the Jamhuri Day inspection the year before, when both schools were assembled on the Jaramogi Oginga Odinga Sports Complex grounds. The sun had been brutal, melting through blazers and brows, the kind of heat that blurred vision and time.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgI6xDiLmYj
Boys stood in lines on one side of the field. Girls on the other. A gulf of baked red earth between them. She had been near the front of the girls’ group—second or third row. Her posture was sharper than the rest. Back straight, eyes forward, the kind of discipline that made a student stand out.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF5y6cEyV0y
But what caught Musa wasn’t how she stood. It was what she wore.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1la3xYpRiO
A yellow ribbon, tied around her bun.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9XR0QIRf9d
Not school regulation. Not loud either. But defiant.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSqbGmMkncY
A silent flare of color in a world that punished difference.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVR1suX14lq
And then—she laughed.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVYmPdXBDYi
Quickly, quietly. Her friend must have whispered something. Her hand flew to her mouth, but the smile broke through. Just for a second. He saw it from across the field and something about it cracked open a window inside him.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrB12JTe8yJ
She didn’t look his way. Probably never would.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq0D2zolTF4
But from that day on, when he walked past the far end of the wall—the part the girls called dunda too—he always slowed his steps.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtl1HCyqVzY
Just a little.219Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4UOUxidi61
In case something waited on the other side8964 copyright protection215ＰＥＮＡＮＡFjJKHwaGKY 維尼

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