Day two

Some moments in life are like shadows, you see them, you feel them, but their meaning only reveals itself later.

It must have been July or August, mid-summer holidays, when I first sensed that life could be both beautiful and painfully fleeting.

Ma Nyongho’s family had a gathering that Sunday. Relatives came from far and near, food was cooked, drinks were ready, and as neighbors in our African village, we were excited because we knew we’d get to share in the feast. To me and others, it seemed like just another family event.

But the next day, shocking whispers began to spread 😭. Ma Nyongho was no more.

That Sunday evening, I saw a procession: women carrying little baby things. At the time, I didn’t understand what was happening. It seemed like a feast but little did I know, that the previous family gathering had been a final farewell for that beautiful little soul. She had been taken to a nearby river, and that was how she was left, with whispers that she had “turned into a snake by the riverbanks.”

We never saw Ma Nyongho again.

My heart aches every time I think of her radiant smile, the way she would light up whenever I called her name 😭😭.

And yet, even in this heartbreak, Ma Nyongho taught me something profound: life is fragile, but love leaves a mark that time cannot erase. Her brief presence reminded me that every act of kindness, every moment of compassion, no matter how small, matters.

The love we give and the dignity we show to others can ripple far beyond our sight.

Tomorrow, I will share how that memory shaped the path I would take, a journey devoted to serving and celebrating the lives of children like Ma Nyongho.