CHAPTER FIVE230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoGuhbOYjt4
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. 230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUbC7KfzqOa
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.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhJjjQ3AQSl
But he wasn’t hearing any of it.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd7QGyCHERZ
His eyes were fixed on the far wall.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeUhfsD2me4
The one they called dunda.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTHxuKnu8Cb
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.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1xhXiE1y3W
And last night, they’d crossed it.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk3iItII9ND
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.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ71GK3iV6PV
Musa turned from the window, eyes falling on the side pocket of his school bag.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFyDr0CfvJ3
Inside, folded carefully between the cover of a torn CRE exercise book, was the first letter.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI04GByhg6l
"To the girl with the sunflower hair ribbon..."230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCoytQe1NPY
He never got to send it. Someone had beaten him to the wall.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAEso81IMIt
But now it was too late.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡushw7Jus4L
Because last night, something changed. For months now, Musa had crossed it.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJtHIWiB9KX
Quietly. Carefully.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUL9TAWaCf2
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.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ92k94LOaaN
And sometimes… more. Otieno had someone. Musa had... no one.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB8NQY9FhQI
Except the smile.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgQMacWylLr
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.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0nOBod0jgR
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.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjjPoez0RvQ
Never the girl with the sunflower ribbon.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8cngM15DD4
And as his feet hit the ground, he whispered to himself—barely louder than the wind:230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoY4LDYBrid
“I’ll find you. One day.”230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf6aXBkPWsP
He didn’t know her name. Never heard her speak. But he remembered her.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzWi9sZgrzM
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.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA7afdnQdnO
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.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpC5dMdE94K
But what caught Musa wasn’t how she stood. It was what she wore.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0zDsRisDQL
A yellow ribbon, tied around her bun.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTGWmgxlpCc
Not school regulation. Not loud either. But defiant.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxPwgFc5LCO
A silent flare of color in a world that punished difference.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtZNAJtdw0W
And then—she laughed.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfJQz2iAeVG
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.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLAJbUVSajf
She didn’t look his way. Probably never would.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtsVf9mf0bL
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.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtvVZf3YPhm
Just a little.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZrktMWpLt8
In case something waited on the other side8964 copyright protection226ＰＥＮＡＮＡsUwIipOh7P 維尼

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