A Long and Winding Road...
I’m finding it difficult to organize my thoughts, my feelings…finding it difficult to explain myself to myself, let alone to anyone else. And I find myself retreating into, taking refuge in, the comforting familiarity of my former life, the life in which I have been dwelling for some years now…perhaps for half a lifetime. I don’t know…I don’t remember…I can’t make sense of any of it. The images in my mind run rampant…the long, dreadful walk into the bowels of Kibera along the muddy, filth-strewn, germ-laden path past houses which could not even lay claim to that name…dirt-floored hovels without windows where empty-eyed, snot-nosed children in rags sat in doorways, staring as we walked by, the “rich” muzungus, heading to Tabitha’s Clinic, an oasis of cleanliness and sanity in a world seemingly gone mad. The dark stairway leading to the apartment home of Julius and Beatrice and their children, the hall smelling of urine and damp with mold, as neighborhood children crowded around us...
