Member-only story
The eye never forgets what the heart has seen
Part I
Unpacking her bag full of gifts and souvenirs that she had gotten from friends and family, she looked back and was proud of the choice she had made to take a gap year between high school and college to go home. She was ready to embark on her medical school journey at Pennsylvania State University, but home was the right treat she needed even though she felt her heart was now thousands of miles away from her body.
Standing five feet seven, her pearly white teeth well-arranged on her jawline, she walked shoulder-high, knowing that the first time she moved back to her hometown, she had always been the center of attraction. Her grandfather called her his precious jewel. Every time they left to work on the farm, he always narrated to her how he had spent his youth with the love of his life, her grandmother. Even though she did not understand Dholuo, the local language, in its entirety, she always listened carefully, not to miss even a word from his mouth.
Though her grandma was long dead, the flames of love she had ignited in her husband remained strong. She still held a special place in his heart.
She had gone through the tiresome three moons women’s initiation in the rocky countryside of Seme. “This is where we teach you to be a woman.” They told her.
