
KWALE, 1993.
Thunderstorms rumbled outside the thatched house of mama Awele as rain heavily pattered down to the old roof and unto the sandy ground. Every family in the small village was taking shelter in their huts, while some slept from the cold and relaxing feeling the rain brought, others warmed their afternoon meals in clay pots. Babies sucked at their mother’s breasts and fathers lay
with hands behind their heads, thinking of their farms and traps set far away in the bushes.
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